A
DIALOGUE
Betwixt
TOM AND DICK
The former a COUNTRY-MAN, The other a CITIZEN,
Presented to his EXCELLENCY and the COUNCIL
of STATE, at DRAPERS-Hall in LONDON, March 28. 1660.
(To the Tune of I'le never love thee more.)
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Tom. NOW would I give my life to see,
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This wondrous Man of might.
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Dick. Dost see that Jolly Lad? That's he;
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I'le warrant him he's right.
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There's a true Trojan in his Face:
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Observe him o're and o're.
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Chorus.
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Dick. Come Tom, If ever GEORGE be base,
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Ne're trust good-fellow more.
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He's none of that Phantastique Brood,
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That murther, while they pray:
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That trusse, and cheat us, for our good;
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(All, in a Godly way,)
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He drinkes no Bloud, and they no Sack
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into their gutts will poure.
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Chorus.
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But if GEORGE does not do the knack;
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Ne're trust good-fellow more.
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His quiet Conscience needs no guard;
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He's brave, but full of pitty.
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Tom. Yet, by your leave, he knock'd so hard,
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H'ad like t'awak'd the City.
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Dick. Foole, 'Twas the Rump that let a Fart,
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The Chaynes and Gates it tore.
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Chorus.
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But if GEORGE beares not a true heart,
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Ne're trust Good-fellow more.
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Tom. Your City-blades are cunning Rookes;
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How rarely you collogue him?
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But when your Gates flew off the Hookes,
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You did as much be-rogue him.
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Dick. Pug'h. ------ 'Twas the Rump did onely Feele,
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The blowes the City bore.
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Chorus.
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But if GEORGE be'nt as true as Steele,
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Ne're trust Good-fellow more.
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Dick. Come, by this Hand, we'll crack a quare,
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Thou'll pledge his health, I trow.
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Tom. Tope boy, Dick ------ A lusty dish my heart,
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Away w'ot; Tom. ------ Let it go.
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Drench me you slave in a full Bowle,
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I'll take't, an' twere a score.
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Chorus.
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Dick. Nay, if GEORGE be'nt a hearty Soule,
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Ne're trust Good-fellow more.
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Tom. But heark you, Sirrah, we're to loud,
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He'll hang us, by, and by.
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Dick. Me'thinks, he should be vengeance proud?
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No more then thee, or I.
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Tom. Why then I'le give him the best Blade,
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That ere the Bilbo wore,
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Chorus.
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Dick. If GEORGE prove not a Bonny Lad,
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Ne're trust Good-fellow more.
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Tom. 'Twas well he came, we'd mawll'd the Tayle;
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------ We've all throwne up our Farmes.
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And from the Musket, to the Flayle,
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Put all our men in Armes.
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The Girles had ta'ne the Members down,
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Ne're saw such things before.
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Dick, If GEORGE speak not the Town our owne,
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Ne're trust Good-fellow more.
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Dick. But prethee, are the Folke so mad?
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Tom. --- So mad, say'st; ------ The're undone,
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There's not a penny to be had,
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And ev'ry Mothers Sonne
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Must fight, if he intend to eate,
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Grow valliant, now he is poore.
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Chorus.
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Dick. Come ------ yet if GEORGE don't do the feate,
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Ne're trust Good-fellow more.
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Tom. --- Why Richard, 'tis a Devilish thing,
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We're not left worth a groate.
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My Doll, has sold her wedding-ring,
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And Su has pawnd her Coate.
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The Sniv'ling Rogues abus'd our Squire,
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And call'd our Mistresse Whore.
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Chorus.
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Dick. Yet ------ If GEORGE don't what we desire,
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Ne're trust Good-fellow more.
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Tom: --- By this good day; I did but speak;
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They took my Py-ball'd Mare;
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And put the Carri'on Wench to th' squeak:
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(Things go against the Hair).
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Our Prick-ear'd Cor'nell looks as bigg
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Still, as he did before.
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Chorus.
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Ric. And yet if GEORGE don't humme his Gigg,
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Ne're trust Good-fellow more.
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'Faith, Tom: our Case is much at one;
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We're broke for want of Trade;
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Our City's baffled, and undone,
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Betwixt the Rump, and Blade.
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We've emptied both our Veines and Baggs,
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Upon a Factious Score.
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Chorus.
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If GEORGE Compassion not our Raggs,
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Ne're trust Good-fellow more
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Tom. But what doest think should be the Cause,
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Whence all these Mischiefs spring?
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Ric. Our damned breach of Oaths and Lawes;
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Our Murther of the King.
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We have bin Slaves since CHARLES his Reign,
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We liv'd like Lords before.
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Chorus.
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If GEORGE don't set all right again,
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Ne're trust Good-fellow more.
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Tom. Our Vicar --------- (And hee's one that knows)
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Told me once, --------- I know what: ---------
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(And yet the Thief is woundy Close)
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Ric. 'Tis all the better; ------ That.
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H'as too much Honesty and Witt,
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To let his Tongue runne o're:
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Chorus.
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If this prove not a lucky hitt,
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Ne're trust Good-fellow more.
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Shall's ask him, what he means to doe?
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Tom. --------- 'Good faith, with all my heart;
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Thou mak'st the better Leg o'th' Two:
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Take thou the better part.
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I'll follow, if thou't leade the Van.
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Ric. Content; ------ I'll march before.
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Chorus.
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If GEORGE prove not a Gallant man,
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Ne're trust Good-fellow more.
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My Lord: ------ in us the Nation craves
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But what you're bound to do.
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Tom. --------- We have liv'd Drudges: Ric. --- And We Slaves;
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Both. We would not die so too.
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Chorus.
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Restore us but our Lawes agen;
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Th' unborn shall thee adore:
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If GEORGE denies us his Amen;
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Ne're trust Good-fellow more.
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