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EBBA 33598

National Library of Scotland - Crawford
Ballad XSLT Template
News from Hide-Park.
A very merry passage which hapned betwixt a North Country Gentleman, and a very Gaudy
Gallant Lady of pleasure, whom he took up in the Parke, & conducted her (in her own Coach)
home to her Lodgings, and what chanced there, if you'll venter Attention the Song will
To the Tune of, The Crost Couple.

ONe Evening a little before it was dark,
sing tan tara rara tan tivee,
I call'd for my Gelding & rid to Hide parke,
on tan tara rara tan-tivee:
It was in the merry Month of May,
When Meadows & Fields were gaudy & gay,
And Flowers apparell'd as bright as the day,
I got upon my tan-tivee.

The Park shone brighter than the Skyes,
sing tan tara rara tan-tivee:
With jewels and gold, and Ladies eyes,
that sparkled and cry'd come see me:
Of all parts of England, Hide-park hath the name
For Coaches & Horses, and Persons of fame,
It looked at first sight, like a field full of flame,
Which made me ride up tan-tivee.

There hath not been seen such a sight since Adam's
or Perriwig, Ribbon, and Feather,
Hide-park may be term'd the Market of Madams
or Lady-Fair, chuse you whether:

their gowns were a yard too long for their legs,
They shew[']d like the Rain-bow cut into rags,
A Garden of Flowers, or a Navy of Flags,
when they did all mingle together.

Among all these Ladies I singled out one
to prattle of love and folly;
I found her not coy, but jovial as Jone,
or Betty, or Margret, or Moly:
With honors & love, and stories of Chances,
My spirits did move & my blood she advances,
With twenty quonundrums, & fifty five fancies
I'd have been at her tan-tivee.

We talkt away time until it grew dark,
the place did begin to grow privee;
For Gallants began to draw out of the Park:
their horses did gallop tan-tivee:
But finding my courage a little to come,
I sent my bay-Gelding away by my Groom,
And proffer'd my service to wait on her home,
In her coach we went both tan-tivee.

I Offer'd & proffer'd, but found her straight lac'd
she cry'd, I shall never believe ye?
This armful of Sattin I bravely embrac'd,
and fain would have been at tan-tivee.
Her lodging was pleasant for scent & for sight,
She seem'd like an Angel by Candle-light,
And like a bold Archer I aim'd at the white,
tan tivee, tan-tivee, tan-tivee.

With many denials she yielded at last,
her Chamber being wondrous privee,
That I all the night there might have my repast
to run at the Ring tan-tivee:
I put off my cloaths, and I tumbled to bed:
She went in her Closet to dress up her head,
But I peep'd in the key-hole to see what she did,
which put me quite beside my tan-tivee.

She took of her head-tire, & shew'd her bald pate,
her cunning did very much grieve me,
Thought I to myself, if it were not so late,
I would home to my lodgings, believe me.
Her hair being gone, she seem'd like a Hagg.
Her bald-pate did look like an Estritches Egg,
This Lady (thought I) is as right as my legg,
she hath been too much at tan-tivee.

The more I did peep, the more I did spy,
which did unto amazement drive me:
She put up her finger and out dropt her eye;
I pray'd that some power would relieve me,

But now my resolves was never to trouble her,
Or venture my Carkis with such a blind hobler,
She lookt with one eye just like Heuson the Cob-ler
when he us'd to ride tan-tivee.

I peept & was still more perplexed therewith,
thought I tho't be midnight I'le leave thee,
She fetcht a yawn, and out fell her teeth,
this Queen had intents to deceive me:
She drew out her Handkercheif as I suppose,
To wipe her high forhead & off dropt her nose,
Which made me run quickly and put on my hose
the Devil is in my tan-tivee.

She washt all the Paint from her visage & then
she lookt just (if you will believe me)
Like a Lancashire witch of fourscore and ten;
and as the Devil did drive me,
I put on my cloaths & cry'd witches & whores,
I tumbled down stairs, broke open the doors,
And down to my country again to my Bores,
Next morning I rid tan-tivee.

You North-country Gallants that live pleasant lives
let not curiosity drive ye,
To leave the fresh air, and your own Tennants wives
for Sattin will sadly deceive you:
For my part I will no more be such a Meacock,
To deal with the plums of a Hide-park Peacock,
But find out a russet coat wench, & a heycock,
and there I will ride tan-tivee.

London, Printed for F. Coles, T. Vere, and J. Wright.

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