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OATES
WELL THRESHT.
Being a Dialogue of Country-make
Betwixt a Farmer, and his Man-Boy, Jack.
The Good Man, who had lost much by the Grain,
Hears Presbyter-Jack to Plead for it in vain.
The Tune, Which no Body can deny, etc.
The Burden must be Twice Repeated.
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Jack.
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OUr Oates, last Week not worth a Groat,
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Have, Sir, (which all do wonder at)
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Abomination thrivd of late;
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Which no Body can deny, Sir.
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Master.
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[?]e all the Tribe of Oates Accurst,
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[A]nd the Old Dotard too, that first
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[T]he Brat within his Hedges nurst,
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And sowd such Wicked Seed, Boy.
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Jack.
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[G]ood Master, pray your Fury stop;
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[F]or, as the Saying is, I hope,
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[Y]oull shortly see a Doctor-Crop,
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And many more besides, Sir.
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Master.
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[?] Curse on every thing, thats height Oates;
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[B]oth Old & Young, both Black & White Oates,
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[B]oth Long & Short, both Light & Tite Oates:
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I hate the Viprous Breed, Boy.
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Jack.
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Your Oates, now Ripe, Sir, do appear;
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For they begin to hang the Ear;
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The Time of Cutting them draws near,
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If my Skill fails me not, Sir.
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Master.
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Then down with em, and all their Train;
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Let not a Blade of them remain,
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Our poor Land to infect again;
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Tis pitty one should scape, Boy.
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Jack.
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Where shall I reek them, (the Sithes Edge
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Theyve felt) in Barn, or under Hedge?
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For they are fit for Cart, or Sledge,
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And a Roping only want, Sir.
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Master.
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Een if thou wilt, lodge them in thy Barn;
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For they shall ner come amongst my Corn;
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Or Cart them, if thou wilt, to Tyburn;
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And there too Truss them up, Boy.
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Jack.
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Th are housd, Sir; But the Trash all Sense
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Exceeds, thats in em: By what Means,
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This Filthy Oates shall we ere cleanse?
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From all that Roguish Stuff, Sir?
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Master.
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Go, get a pack of Sturdy Louts,
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And let them lustily Thresh their Coats;
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Too well you cannot Thresh Damnd Oates;
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Which no Body can deny, Boy.
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Jack.
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Th are thresht, & wimbd, & made as clean,
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As hands can dot; but all in vain:
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For still Base Oates behind remain:
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What shall we do with em, Sir?
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Master.Let em divided be (like Martyrs
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Of Royal Justice) into Quarters;
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Then ground in Mill, or brayd in Mortars:
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So Oates ought to be servd, Boy.
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Jack.
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How shall I use the Straw? Tis good
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Only to cast out in the Road,
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And under Foot to Dung be trod;
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And there to lye and rot, Sir.
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Master.
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Burnt, like an Heretick, in Flame;
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And Expiate so our Guilt and Shame,
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For giving Long-Taild Oates such Fame,
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Abhorrd by all but us, Boy.
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Beyond Sea th are kickt out of Door;
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But held with us Here in such Store,
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That Oates we even do Adore:
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But Curst be Oates, say I, Boy.
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Jack.
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What shall we now at last, Sir, do
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With this Same Paultry Oates, by You
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So hated, and admired by few;
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And those both Knaves and Fools, Sir.
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Master.
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Let Oates be cast to Ravenous Hogs,
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Or ground for Meat for Hungry Dogs;
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And no where Sown, but in deep Bogs,
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Or Bottom of a Jakes, Boy.
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Or to the Fowls o the Air be thrown,
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By Vermine to be preyd upon;
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Or out o th World by Whirlwinds blown,
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To th Devils Arse of Peak, Boy.
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Let evry Tongue, and Tail i th Ile,
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Of Man, of Bird, of Beast, defile
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Oates so Detestable, Oates so Vile;
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And twill be so, thoult see, Boy.
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Or if to Popery thou incline,
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Thou shalt have Oates encagd in a Shrine,
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And shew about that Trash Divine;
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And this will get thee Pence, Boy.
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Jack.
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Let it, Good Master, pray be so,
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And Ile amongst the Papists go,
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With my O rare Shite, & my O brave Show,
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Till I a Pension get, Sir.
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And then Ile Coach it up and down,
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From Country, and from Town to Town,
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Till ore the World Ive made Oates known,
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For a very R------ in Grain, Sir.
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