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EBBA 32295

Huntington Library - Bindley (formerly Luttrell)
Ballad XSLT Template
:
AN
Excellent New Ballad
BETWEEN
Tom the Tory, and Toney the Whigg,
To the Tune of, Shittle-Come-Shite, etc.

GOod People all, both Great and Small,
Come listen to my Story;
There was a Fray, the other Day,
Between a Whigg, and Tory.

For all their Distance, now they met,
Joynd in the Stocks together;
You may be sure, twas for no good,
That both of them came thither.

The Torys Name was Lashing Tom;
The Whigg was called Toney;
And yet the Urchin, most Men say,
Wants neither Wit nor Money.

At first they surly were, and grim,
And stiff as as any Quaker;
They lookt much like in Hangings old,
The Panther, and the Baker.

A while they only hufft and pufft
At one another, growling:
At last the Curs did spend their Mouths,
And thus they fell a Howling.

Tom.
(Quoth Tom) to me, thy Company
Is now as sweet as Honey:
Tis the first Day, I ere could say,
To me thourt welcome Toney.

Since in this Wooden-Cage we meet,
Lets Con our Notes together:
And prithee Toney tell me how
The Devil has brought thee hither.

Toney.
(quoth Toney) spare thy Complement,
Thou soon shalt be Confounded:
Has thou forgot, thou vapouring Sot,
By whom thou wert Impounded.

We tryd a Better, and a Worse,
I fairly thee did Master:
I am not Conquerd, but Betrayd
By Rogues, to this Disaster.

Tom.
Those Rogues (quo Tom) thy Creatures were,
Unjust is thy Complaining;

Since to this Pen, thourt hunted in
By Whelps of thy own Training.

Thy Wickedness, turnd thee to Beast,
And hither thee did hurry:
And in this Guise, Acteon-wise,
Thy Hell-Hounds thee shall worry.

Toney.
Thou wants not Wickedness, but Wit,
To turn it to thy Profit:
Who but a Sot, would hatch a Plot,
And then make nothing of it?

Twas I was fain to Rear thy Barn,
And bring it to Perfection:
I made the Frighted Nation sue
To me, for my Protection.

Tom.
I know (quoth Tom) thou lovst of old,
The Name of a Protector:
But now with all thy Might and Slight,
Thou art a Baffld Hector.

With all thy Treats, and all thy Cheats,
Still thy Designe does faulter:
Thoust got (poor Wretch) some Fees for Ketch,
And for thy self a Halter.

Toney.
Name not (quoth Toney) that paw thing,
Till thou thy Heels Recover:
For who can tell of Thee or Me,
Who first will be Turnd over?

Tom look to it, when Commons Sit,
Left then I take thee Napping:
I nothing fear, who am so near
My Honest Friends of Wapping.

What more they said, or what they did,
Deserves not to be reckond:
Then come away; but first lets pray,
God bless King Charles the Second.


FINIS.
LONDON, Printed for R.H. in the Year, 1678.

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