The Lamentation of Seven Journeymen-Taylors, being sent up in a letter from York-shire and written in verse by a wit.
Givinga true Account of a Wench, who being with-Child, laid it to seven Journey-men Taylors, who at length was forc'd to contribute each Man his Penny a day to defray this extraordinary Charge; with other Circumstances which this had like to have incurred upon the seven distressed Journey-men Taylors: This being published for the good of all Journey-men Taylors, lest they unhappily do fall in the like distress.
To the Tune of, I am the Duke of Norfolk.
Entred according to Order.
ATtend and you shall hear,
New News from York-shire,
Of a Letter that was sent up in Rhime;
Wherein they plainly show,
Seven Taylors Overthrow,
And this was in Cowcumber time.
These Taylors they agreed,
And a Wench it seems they feed,
That they all might have a finger in the Pye:
Their Wits they were so wild,
They got a Wench with-Child,
And believe me it is no Lye.
Then the Taylors and their Miss,
Went before the Iustice,
And all along the Street as they went,
Then the People they did feer,
And the Taylors stunk for fear,
There was a most horrid Scent.
O but when they did come near,
Before the Iustice to appear,
Their hearts they began for to fail,
With many cruel fears,
Hanging down their Ears,
Like a Dog that had burnt his Tail.
The Wench she made it out,
That each Taylor had a bout,
But yet could not certainly say,
Whether William Tom or Dick,
Or who might do the trick,
So the Child to them all she did lay.
The Iustice to them said,
You have wronged this poor Maid
Therefore then without any fail,
You must bring to me,
Some good Security,
Or else you must all to a Iale.
The Taylors answer To the JUSTICE.
Good Sir hear us what we say
We work for a Groat a day,
And like your Worship we can earn no more,
Though we have done amiss,
I pray excuse us this,
For we never did the like before.
Thats neither here nor there,
For the Child you shall take care,
And also the woman too indeed,
They sent and got a friend,
and soon did make an end
The Taylors with the wench they agree'd.
As we do understand,
Each Taylor set his hand,
To give each man his penny a day,
And thus among them all
Their Charges was but small
They went most contentedly away.
But when they did come home,
Their Wives did fret and some;
For it seems they had heard of the thing,
Their Tongues they did not spare
But like Thunder in the ayr,
They did make the whole Town for to King.
Their Wives did huff and snuff,
They did both kick and Cuff,
That the Taylors was almost undone,
Then all about the Town
They did kick them up and down,
The poor Taylors knew not where to run.
Then to their wives they bow'd
And Solemnly they vow'd
If they would their fury refrain,
then they would spend their lives,
In pleasing of their Wives,
And would never do the like again.
Thus by this sad Disaster
Their wives became their masters
Which makes the poor Taylors now to mourn,
For as we understand
Their wives they bear command
Now they dare not say their soul's their own.
This Letter it was sent,
With an honest good intent,
To all the poor Taylors far and near,
That they might mend their Lives,
And prove honest to their Wives,
Least the like of this fell to your share.
Printed for I. Deacon, at the angel in Guilt-spur-street.