The Jolly Gentleman's FROLICK: OR, The City Ramble.
Being, An Account of a young Gallant, who Wager'd to pass any of the Watches, without giving them an Answer; but being stop'd by the Constable at Cripple-gate, was sent to the Counter, afterwards had before my Lord Mayor, and was Clear'd by the Intercession of my Lord Mayors Daughter.
To a Pleasant New Tune.
GIve ear to a Frollicksome Ditty,
of one that a Wager did lay
He'd pass any Watch in the City,
and never a Word he wou'd say
But, Dal, derra, rarra, &c.
The Constable spake to his Watch-men,
brave Boys, it is my Delight,
And Orders have for to catch Men,
who Ramble too late in the Night.
The Humour, &c.
The Streets do Eccho, we hear, Boys,
with Mad-men coming along;
My Staff is ready, ne'r fear, Boys,
we'll make 'um alter their Song.
The Humour, &c.
Stand, stand, says the Bell-man,
the Constable now come before,
And if a just Story you tell, Man,
I'll Light you home to your own Door:
The Humour, &c.
This is a very late season,
which surely no Honest Men keep,
And therefore 'tis but just reason,
that you in the Counter should sleep.
The Humour, &c. (Sad.)
Take away this same Fellow,
and him to the Counter convey,
Although his Frollick is mellow,
he something to Morrow will say.
The Humour, &c. (Sad.)
Open the Gate, make no scorning,
take Charge of your Prisoner there,
And we will soon in the morning,
appear before my Lord Mayor.
The Humour, &c. (Sad.)
A Bottle of Claret I'll fill, Sir,
some P [...]pes of Tobacco, beside.
And if that it now be your will, Sir,
a Bed for you soon we'll provide.
The Humour, &c.
This Frollick soon Eccho'd the Prison,
the Debters his Garnish would have;
Without demanding the reason,
whate're they-requir'd, he gave.
The Humour, &c.
The Constable soon the next day, Sir,
this Comical matter to clear,
The Gentleman hurrys straightways, sir,
before my Lord Mayor to appear.
The Humour, &c.
My Lord, give ear to my Story,
while I the truth do relate,
The Gentleman standing before ye,
was seiz'd by me at Cripple-gate.
The Humour, &c. (Sad.)
I nothing could hear but his Singing,
wherefore in the Counter he lay,
And therefore this morning I bring him
to hear what your Lordship will say.
The Humour, &c. (Sad.)
Come Friend, the Case does appear now,
that you was in a Mad Fit,
I hope that you may be clear now,
since Sleep has restor'd you your Wit.
The Humour, &c. (Sad.)
This Gentleman sure is Distracted,
he's over-heated his Brain,
Since he thus silly has acted,
to th' Counter I'll send him again.
The Humour, &c. (Sad.)
A Prison sure it will tame him,
and bring him soon to his Sense,
There's nothing else can reclaim him,
from this his notorious Offence,
The Humour, &c. (Sad,)
O then bespake my Lord's Daughter,
and for him did thus Interceed,
Dear Father, you'll hear that hereafter,
this is but a Wager, indeed.
The Humour, &c.
Therefore be pleased, kind Father,
to hear one word more of me,
And shew to me so much favour,
this Gentleman may be set free.
The Humour, &c.
Well, Daughter, I grant your Petition,
the Gentleman home may repair,
But yet 'tis upon this Condition,
of paying my Officers there.
The Humour, &c.
Come Sir, your Fees we require,
you free'd are now by the Court,
And all that we do desire,
you'll find out some other new Sport.
The Humour, &c.
Thus seeing he might be Released,
if he his Fees did but pay,
He then was very well pleased,
and so went Singing awa [...],
The Humour, &c.
Printed for C. Bates, at the White-Hart in West-Smithfield.