The Merchants SON,
AND THE
BEGGAR-WENCH of HULL.
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YOU gallants all I pray draw near,
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And you a pleasant Jest shall hear,
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How a Beggar Wench of Hull,
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A Merchants Son of York did gull.
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Fa, la, etc.
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One morning on a certain day,
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He cloathd himself in rich array,
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And took with him as it was told,
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The summ of sixty pounds in gold,
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Fa, la, etc.
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So mounting on a prancing steed,
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He towards Hull did ride with speed;
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Where in his way he chancd to see,
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A Beggar Wench of mean degree.
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She asked him for some relief,
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And said with tears of seeming grief,
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That she had neither house nor home,
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But for her living was forcd to roam.
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He seemed to lament her case,
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And said, Thou hast a pretty face;
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If thou wilt lodge with me, he cryd,
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With gold thou shalt be satisfyd.
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Her silence seemd to give consent,
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So to a little house they went;
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The landlord laughd to see him kiss,
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The Beggar Wench a ragged Miss.
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He needs must have a dinner drest,
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And calld for liquor of the best;
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And there they tost of bumpers free,
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The jolly Beggar Wench and He.
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A dose she gave him as tis thought,
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Which by the landlady was bought;
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For all the night he lay in bed,
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Secure as if he had been dead.
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Then she put on all his cloaths,
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His coat, his breeches, and his hose;
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His hat, his perriwig likewise,
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And seizd upon the golden prize.
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Her greasy petticoat and gown,
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In which she rambled up and down,
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She left the Merchants Son in lieu,
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Her bag of bread and bottle too.
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Down stairs like any spark she goes,
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Five guineas to the host she throws,
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And smiling then she went away,
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And neer was heard of to this day.
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When he had took his long repose,
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He lookd about and mist his cloaths;
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And saw her rags lie in the room,
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How he did storm, nay fret and fume.
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Yet wanting cloaths and friends in town,
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Her greasy petticoat and gown
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He did put on, and mounted strait,
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Bemoaning his unhappy fate.
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You would have laughd to see the dress
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Which he was in, yet neertheless,
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He homewards rode, and often swore,
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Hed never kiss a Beggar more.
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