A
Pleasant JIGG
Betwixt
Jack and his Mistress:
Or, The young Carman's Courage cool'd by the
suddain approach, of his Master, who found him too kind to his
Mistress.
Tune of Mary Live Long. Licensed according to Order.
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A Carman of late,
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Who liv'd in the City,
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A sorrowful Dity,
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His wife was too great
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with their Prentice Boy,
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But a swinging young Spark
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At a wench in the dark;
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Now this his Dame knew,
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And therefore stout Johnny,
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And therefore stout Johnny,
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Must tickle her to.
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It happen'd one day,
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His Mistriss came to him,
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No question she knew him,
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To be e'ry way,
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a Lad for her turn;
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Where's your Master, she cry'd?
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With a friend; he reply'd;
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She then void of shame,
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Said Johnny come kiss me,
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Sweet Johnny come kiss me,
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Make much of thy Dame.
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Sweet Mistress I fear,
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A woful disaster,
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The wrath of me Master,
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If once he should hear,
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I play'd with your Lute,
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He would liquor my hide,
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You're a fool, she reply'd,
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Take courage for shame,
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O fear not your Master,
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Boy fear not your Master,
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But pleasure your Dame.
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I count it no crime,
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To dally in pleasure,
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We'll Toy out of measure,
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Tis not the first time,
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Nor sha'nt be the last,
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Therefore come on my Boy,
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Let us Pleasure enjoy,
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Take Courage for shame,
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'Tis sweet Recreation,
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'Tis sweet Recreation,
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To pleasure thy Dame.
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Thy Master, I'll swear,
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If once he should Cavel,
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We'll send to dig Gravel,
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With Friends to Horn-Fair,
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He dare not say no,
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But at home we will stay,
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Then in order to play,
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The Frolicksome Game,
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Boy do not deny me,
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John do not deny me,
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But pleasure thy Dame,
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Thy Corral and Bells,
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And Whistle I know it,
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If thou wilt bestow it
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For pleasures excells,
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The lest in the Town,
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Thou art Lusty and strong
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And can lay me along,
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Take Courage for shame,
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Thou here in the Stable,
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Thou here in the Stable,
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Shall pleasure thy Dame.
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His master by chance,
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Then being near them,
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Did soon over-hear them,
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And strait did advance,
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With fury and Rage,
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Like a Fellow Horn-mad,
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He fell on the Lad,
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His shoulders he paid,
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'Cause John in his Pasture,
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'Cause John in his Pasture,
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a Tresspass had made.
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Ah! what hast thou done,
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So sad a beration,
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Was ne'r in the nation,
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Horn-mad I shall run,
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Without all dispute,
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Oh ye villain said he,
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I will not make you Free,
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But bring you to shame,
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Because you have wrong'd me,
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Because you have wrong'd me,
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and play'd with your Dame.
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