JOCKEY and WILLY,
The SCOTCH Rivals:
OR,
MOGGYS Constancy.
A Pleasant SONG.
To an excellent New Tune: Or, King Williams March in Flanders.
Licensed according to Order.
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I.
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Ise love my dear Moggy, said Jockey, so fair,
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So bright are her Eyes, and so shining her Hair,
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Ise gang oer the World, if shed love me again,
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But ah! she loves Willy, I see it too plain,
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What then must I do, must Ise languish and dye?
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Nay, rather to gain her, my broad Sword Ise try;
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If Willy be conquerd, my Manhood may prove
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A reason that Moggy poor Jockey may love.
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II.
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Geud Faith here he comes, where the Deel in such hast?
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To Moggy Ise warrant yene ganging so fast;
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Says Willy, where else but to Moggys kind Arms,
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Where kissing, embracing, Ise melt with her Charms,
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Whilst on her soft Bosome, my Head I do rest,
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Ise more than a Monarch do think I am blest:
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Says Jockey, these Favours to me are most due,
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Ise saw her, and lovd her, long time before you.
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III.
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With Curds, and with Cream, I have treated her long,
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Ise Piped to her often, and Sung her a Song,
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And thought she had lovd me, till you came to Wooe
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With new Fashiond Plad, on your Bonnet so Blue,
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But Ise not endure it, your broad Sword lug out;
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Says Willy, I fear you not, tho youre so stout,
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And often have worsted for Moggy Ise seet,
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And rather than quit her, Ise dee at her Feet.
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IV.
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Their dreadful Blades then they with Fury did wield,
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And by often wounding, did all bloudy the Field,
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But as Willy fainted, poor Moggy came by,
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And run in between with a piteous cry,
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Their Swords not regarding, but void of all fear,
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O Villain, said she, will you murther my Dear?
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Then took she the Sword from her Willys faint hand,
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And twixt him and Death most couragious did stand.
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V.
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When Jockey confounded at what he had done,
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Retird without speaking, yet scarce he was gone,
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But oer her poor Willy she weeping did fall,
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And gave him a Thousand kind kisses withall,
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Her Hair, and her Linnen, she tore off with speed,
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To bind up the Wounds that so sadly did bleed;
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When kisses revivd him, she Sighing did say
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Ah Willy for loving, thou dearly dost pay.
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VI.
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But oh cruel Jockey! how durst you impart
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A Wound to the Man that is lodgd in my Heart,
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Thou couldst not fauce Loon bereave him of breath,
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But at the same time give Moggy her Death,
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So linkd to each other, our Lives do remain,
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That Death striking one, will be sure of the twain,
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Chear up my dear Willy, to make thee now well,
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My Wheel, Churm, and Cheese-fat, and Wiggan Ise sell.
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VII.
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At this he lookd up, and did bless his kind Fate,
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That it had designd him so constant a Mate;
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Scarce kisses would give them the time more to speak,
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While Moggy to Crown him, a Garland did make:
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Poor Jockey saw this, from a Brake were he stood,
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And grieving for shedding a true Lovers Blood,
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He hasted, and on his Knees pardon did crave,
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The which on Conditions as freely they gave.
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VIII.
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That he never more should oppose the design
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They had in sweet Wedlocks embraces to join,
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Nor envy their Happiness, Joy, and Delight;
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Quoth Jockey, Deel take me if ever I Fight,
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Or trouble my Thoughts about Moggy again,
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In much love may they for ever remain:
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Then Home they did go, with such kindness, and joy,
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That Envy, nor Jealousie, neer can destroy.
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