A Pleasant New Ballad to look upon, How Mault deals with every man.
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MR. Mault is a Gentleman,
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And hath been since the world began,
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I never in my life knew any man,
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could match with master Mault Sir.
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I never knew any man match Mault but once,
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The Miller with his grinding stones,
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He pulld his flesh from off his bones,
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you never saw the like Sir.
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Mault Mault thou art a Flower,
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Beloved right well in every bower
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Thou canst not be missing one half hour,
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you never, etc.
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For laying the stones so close,
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Mault gave the Miller a Copper nose,
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Saying thou and I will never be foes,
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but unto thee Ile stick Sir.
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Mault gave the Miller such a blow,
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That from his Horse he fell full low,
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He taught him his Master Mault to know,
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you never, etc.
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Our Hostis Maid was much to blame,
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To steal Mault away from her Dame,
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And in her Belly hid the same,
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you never, etc.
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That when the Mault did work in her head,
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Twice in a day she would be sped,
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At night she could not get to bed,
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nor scarce stand on her feet Sir.
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Then came in Master Smith,
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And said that Mault he was a Thief,
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But Mault gave him such a dash ith teeth,
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you never, etc.
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For when his Iron was hot and red,
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He had such an ach all in his head,
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His boon Comrades got him to bed,
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for he was very sick Sir.
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The Carpenter came a piece to square,
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And bid Mault come if he dare,
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Hed thwack his sides and belly bare,
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and him full soundly beat Sir.
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To the fire he went well warmd with chips,
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Mault hit him right betwixt the Lips,
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And made him lame on both his hips,
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you never, etc.
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The Shoomaker sitting on his seat,
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At Master Mault began to fret,
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He said he would the Knave so beat
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with his sharp Spanish Knife Sir.
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But Mault came peeping through the Hall,
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And did his Brains so fiercely maul,
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He turned round and caught a fall,
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you never, etc.
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The Weaver sitting in the Loom,
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He threatned Mault a cruel doom,
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And make him to repulse the room,
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or throw him in a Dike Sir.
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Whereat a Court some Weavers kept,
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And to their Hostis boldly stept,
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Till chargd with double pots they slept,
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you never, etc.
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The Tinker took the Weavers part,
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Such furious rage possest his heart,
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He took the pot and drank a quart,
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his wits was very ripe Sir.
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For Mault the upper hand so got,
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He knew not how to pay the shot,
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But part without the reckoning pot,
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and found his Stomach sick Sir.
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The Taylor came to grind his shears,
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And shews to mault what spleen he bears,
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But soon they fell together byth ears,
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and sore each other struck Sir.
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And when his pressing Iron was hot,
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He pressed the Board instead of a Coat,
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And sailed home in a Feather-bed boat,
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you never, etc.
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The Tinker walking round the pan,
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But mault much feared his beer-mouth & can,
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Though he had conquerd many a man,
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and laid him in the Dike Sir.
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Yet was the Tinker gladly fain,
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With mault to have a bout or twain,
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Till he again was shot i th brain,
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you never, etc.
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Then bespake the Tinker anon,
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And said hed prove himself a man,
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And laid at mault till his Legs were gon,
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you never, etc.
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The Saylor he did curse and ban,
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He bid the boy go tap the Can,
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Ile have a bout with mault anon,
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you never, etc.
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Aboard they went to try the match,
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And long they plaid at hoop and catch,
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Till mault bestowd him under a hatch,
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you never, etc.
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Then came a Chapman travelling by,
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With cheapning long his throat was dry,
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And at Master mault did flye,
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and furiously him struck Sir.
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Till having laid at mault apace,
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Great store of blood was in his face,
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And he was found in such a case,
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you never, etc.
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The Mason came an Oven to make,
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The bricklayer came he his part did take,
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They bound him to the good-ale stake
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you never, etc.
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Then mault began to tell his mind,
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And plyd them well with beer and wine,
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They left the brick-axe, trowel behind,
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they could not lay a brick S[i]r.
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Then came the Labourer in his hood,
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and saw his two Masters how they stood,
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He took Master mault by the hood,
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and swore he would him strike Sir.
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Mault he ran and for fear did weep,
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The Labourer he did skip and leap,
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But mault made him into the morter to leap,
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and there he fell asleep Sir.
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The Glover came to buy a Skin,
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Mault hit him right above the Chin,
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Then Pewter John came tumbling in,
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you never, etc.
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And laid on heads and arms, and joynts,
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Took away Gloves and a gross of points,
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And swore theyd pay him in quarts and pints,
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you never, etc.
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Thus of my Song ile make an end,
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And pray my host to be my friend
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To give me some drink or money to spend
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for Mault and I am quiet Sir.
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