A Strange Banquet, OR, The Divels Entertainment
The tune is, Cook Laurell.
COok Laurel would have the Divel his guest
And bid him whom to Peak to dinner,
Where Fiend had never such a feast
Prepared at the charge of a sinner.
With a hey down down a down down.
His stomack was quesie he came thither coacht
The joggings had caused his cruets to rise,
To help which he cal'd for a Puritan Poarcht
That used to turn up the white of his eyes,
With a hey, &c.
And so he recovered unto his wish,
He sate him down and began to eat:
A Promooter in Plumb-broth was the first dish,
His own privy Kitchen had no such meat.
With a hey, &c.
Yet though with this he much was taken
Vpon a sudden he shifted his trencher,
Assoon as he spied the Bawd and Bacon,
By which you may know the Divels a wensher.
With a hey, &c.
Six pickled Taylors sliced and cut,
With Semsters and tire-women fit for his pallet
With Feathermen and Perfumers put
Some twelve in a charger to make a grand sallet
With a hey, &c.
A rich fat Vsurer stew'd in his marrow,
With him a Lawyers head and gréen sawce,
All which his belly took like a barrel
As though till then he had never séen sawce.
With a hey, &c.
Then carbonado'd and cookt with pains
Was brought up a Cloven Serjeants face,
The sawce was made of a [...]mans brains
That had béen beaten out with his Mace.
With a hey, &c.
Two roasted Sheriffs came whole to the board,
The feast had nothing béen without them,
Both living and dead were foxed and fur'd
And their chains like sassages hung about them
With a hey, &c.
THe next dish was the Mayor of the town
With a pudding of maintenance put in his belly
Like a Goose in her feathers in his gown,
With a couple of Hinch-boyes boyl'd to a jelly.
With a hey, &c.
Next came the overworn Iustice of Peace,
With Clerks like gizzards stuck under each arm
And warrants like Sippits lay in his own grease
[...]et over a Chaffing-dish to be kept warm.
VVith a hey, &c.
London Cuckold came hot from the spit
And when the Carver had broken him open,
The Divel chopt his head off at a bit
But the horns had almost like to choak him.
VVith a hey, &c.
A fair large Pasty of a Midwife hot,
And for cold bak'd meat in this story,
A reverend painted Lady was brought
Long Coffind in crust til now she's grown hoary
VVith a hey, &c.
The loins of a Letcher then was roasted
With a plumb Harlots head and Garlick
With a Panders Peti-toes that had boasted
[...]imself for a Captain that never was warlick,
VVith a hey, &c.
Then boiled and stuck upon a prick
The Gizzard was brought of a holy sister,
That bit made the Divel almost so sick
That the Doctor did think he had need of a glister
VVith a hey, &c.
The Iowl of a Taylor served for a Fish,
A Constable sowced pissed Vinegar by
Two Aldermen Lobsters laid in a dish
A deputy Tart and a Church-warden Pye.
VVith a hey, &c.
All which devoured, then for a close
He did for a draught of Derby call,
He heaved the vessel up to his nose
And never left till he had drank up all,
VVith a hey, &c.
Then from the table he gave a start
Where banquet and wine was not to séek
All which he blew away with a fart
From whence it is cal'd ye Divels [...]
VVith a hey, &c.
Printed for W. Gil [...] [...]