THE Unfortunate Fencer; OR, The Couragious Farmer of Gloucester-shire.

SHEWING How this huffing Spark went down into those Parts, Challenging any one at all sorts of Weapons; and at length shamefully Conquer'd by a Country Farmer.

To the Tune of, The Spinning Wheel.

Licensed according to Order.

YOu that delight in merriment,
be pleased to attend a while,
I hope to give you all content,
this very Song will make you smile;
'Tis of a Fencer, brave and bold,
Adorn'd with rich embroider'd Gold.
This Spark in pomp, and rich array,
from London rid with right good will,
That he young Lords might learn to play
all sorts of Weapons by his skill;
And wheresoe [...]er this Fencer came,
the drum, and trumpet, blaz'd his fame.
This huffing Fencer, fierce and stout,
to Glocester City did repair,
And for a Sign he then hung out
a Sword of grand Defiance there;
The which a Farmer did espy,
As he by chance was passing by.
The jolly Farmer, brisk and bold,
as soon as he the Sword beheld,
He cry'd, what is there to be sold?
what is your Room with Rapiers fill'd?
The valiant Fencer did reply,
I come my Valour here to try.
With that he did his Rapier shake,
and said let whose will here arrive,
I do a noble Challenge make,
to fight the stoutest Man alive:
The Farmer said, I'll answer thee,
If that you dare to Cope with me.
The Fencer cry'd you sorry slave,
here by this Rapier in my hand,
I'll send thee to thy silent Grave,
against my force no Clown can stand:
It shall be try'd the Farmer cry'd,
I value not your huffing Pride.
Next Morning they a Stage prepare,
the drums did beat, and trumpets sound,
Right joyfull tydings to declare,
this Gallant trac'd the City round,
Dress'd in his Shirt of Holland fine,
With Sword which did like Silver shine.
The Stage he mounted brisk and gay,
and eke the Farmer straight likewise;
To whom the Huffing Spark did say,
of you I'll make a Sacrifice,
This work in short, I shall compleat,
You should have brought a Winding-sheet.
No more that, but let's fall too,
I hope to make my party good
And e'er this World I bid adieu,
who knows but I may let you blood;
With that he cut him o'er the Face,
And thus began the Spark's Disgrace.
But when they came to[?] Quarter-staff,
the Farmer bang'd the Spark about;
Which made all the Spectators laugh
and with Huzza's they all did shout;
He made his Head and Shoulders sore,
He ne'er had been so thrash'd before.
Thus fairly did he win the day,
which put the Fencer in a Rage,
Who through the crowd did sneak away,
while the stout Farmer kept the Stage;
Huzza's of joy, did eccho round,
While he with Victory was Crown'd.

Printed for P. Brooksby, I. Deacon, I. Blare, I. Back.

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