The Jolly Chair-Men.
OR,
An Excellent New Song in praise of their Employment, which is
to be Preferr'd before Coaches, for the ease of those that can-
not bare Jumbling.
Tune is, Here I Love, there I Love, etc.
Licensed according to Order.
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COme listen well to a Jocular Song,
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The which does to honest stout Chair-men belong,
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Who Plys at St. Jamess and near to White-Hall.
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Where Gallants for Chair-men do commonly call.
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When Ladies of Pleasure, would visit a Friend,
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Why then for a Chair-man they hastily send,
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Who does the young Miss to her Gallant convey,
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Where they in their wanton Embraces may play.
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Whenever she lights of a Booty, O then,
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She's not ungrateful to honest Chair-men,
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But throws them a shilling for waiting a while,
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Of which she has earn'd by her labour and toyl.
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The Gallant whose Pockets are lined with Gold,
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He will all the Pleasures of Nature behold,
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The Chair-men are sent for to hoist them away,
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From Jilting, to Tennis-Court, Park, or the Play.
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Like Slaves through the street we run trudging together
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With this huffing Spark in our Cabbin of Leather,
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While thus he does Revel in Pleasure, perhap,
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He loses his Money but meets with a Clap,
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To houses of Pleasure we trudge on together,
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To carry the Sinners in Chairs made of Leather,
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Where the wit, and the money and vigour all spent,
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Full late they come Home, and as late they repent.
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But if this should happen 'tis nothing to us,
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You very well know that our Chair's ne're the worse,
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A Puritan Sister next way in our Chair,
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We carry indeed a kind Brother to hear.
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Chair, Chair, crys the Foot-man, away we all run,
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And happy are they that the Race have first won,
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Then in steps the Hector, claps hat upon knee,
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For none makes a Figure so modish as he.
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This Foppish Young Spark in a garb shall appear,
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As if he was one of ten thousand a year,
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When may be he ha'n't so much Coin in his Purse,
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That for our hard Labour should satisfie us.
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With many a fat Gut, and damn'd heavy load,
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Like poor Beasts of Burthen we travel the Road,
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Away we trudge with him full many a score,
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His Carcass weighs much, but his sins do weigh more.
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We carry the Ladies who carry again,
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We take up both Sexes, they only the men;
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They are no great burthen, we run with a slight,
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Since women ye know for the most part are light.
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When Lady to Lady their visits do pay,
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We Chair-men have business enough for that day,
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Surrounded with Foot-men some less and some more,
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We carry his Honour to visit his Whore,
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There is not a Coach in the world can compare,
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With these Chairs of Leather, for why I declare,
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For Coaches o'er Kennels do roar it like Thunder,
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As if they would shake an Old sinner in sunder.
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For there is some Gallants has had 'em of late.
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And these cann't endure to be Jowl'd at that rate,
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A Chair then is call'd for to ride through the Town,
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The which are as easie as beds of soft down.
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To the Court and the Play-house we carry our fair,
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Crack'd, Sound, and unfound, and all sorts of Ware,
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We carry the Lacy, Proud, Gout, and the Pox,
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And live by the carrying of Jack in a Box.
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