Title: Wit and Mirth: or Pills to Purge Melancholy, Vol. 5 of 6
Editor: Thomas D'Urfey
Release date: September 21, 2008 [eBook #26679]
Most recently updated: January 4, 2021
Language: English
Other information and formats: www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/26679
Credits: Produced by David Newman, Linda Cantoni, and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net. Music
transcribed by Linda Cantoni.
Transcriber’s Note
This e-book is volume 5 of Thomas D’Urfey’s Wit and Mirth: Or Pills to Purge Melancholy, published in six volumes in 1719-20 by J. Tonson, London. It was prepared from a 1959 facsimile reprint by Folklore Library Publishers, Inc., New York, of an 1876 reprint (publisher unidentified).
The 1719-20 edition was published in two issues. The first issue was published under the title Songs Compleat, Pleasant and Divertive; the second, under the Wit and Mirth title. The 1876 reprint apparently used a combination of the two issues, and volume 5 bears the Songs Compleat title. Moreover, the 1876 reprint was not an exact facsimile of the 1719-20 edition, as the typography and music notation were modernized. For more information on the various editions, see Cyrus L. Day, “Pills to Purge Melancholy,” The Review of English Studies, Vol. 8, No. 30 (Apr. 1932), pp. 177-184, available at http://www.jstor.org/stable/508831 (login required).
Midi files have been provided for the songs in this e-book. To hear a song, click on the [Listen] link. Lyrics within the music notation are set forth in text below the music images.
Archaic and inconsistent spellings and hyphenation have been preserved as they appear in the original, except that “VV” is rendered as “W.” The original order of titles in the Alphabetical Table has also been preserved. Obvious printer errors in both text and music have been corrected.
Some words in the first song are rendered in the original in blackletter font. They are rendered here in bold italics.
FOLKLORE LIBRARY PUBLISHERS, INC.
NEW YORK
1959
This edition is a facsimile reproduction
of the 1876 reprint of
the original edition of 1719-1720.
Copyright © 1959
Printed in the U.S.A.
by Noble Offset Printers, Inc.
New York 3, New York
Ending with some Orations, made and spoken by me several times upon the Publick Stage in the Theater. Together with some Copies of Verses, Prologues, and Epilogues, as well as for my own Plays as those of other Poets, being all Humerous and Comical.
LONDON:
Printed by W. Pearson, for J. Tonson, at Shakespear’s Head, against Catherine Street in the Strand, 1719.
| Page | |
| A | |
| ALL Christians and Lay-Elders too, | 1 |
| As I went by an Hospital, | 29 |
| A Shepherd kept Sheep on a, | 35 |
| As I was a walking under a Grove, | 37 |
| A Councel grave our King did hold, | 49 |
| A Heroe of no small Renown, | 56 |
| As the Fryer he went along, | 58 |
| A Bonny Lad came to the Court, | 88 |
| A Pox on those Fools, who exclaim, | 91 |
| Amongst the pure ones all, | 105 |
| As Oyster Nan stood by her Tub, | 107 |
| Ah! Cælia how can you be, | 111 |
| Are you grown so Melancholy, | 118 |
| As Collin went from his Sheep, | 122 |
| A Wife I do hate, | 173 |
| A Thousand several ways I try’d, | 181 |
| A Whig that’s full, | 207 |
| As Cupid roguishly one Day, | 217 |
| A Young Man sick and like to die, | 267 |
| At Noon in a sultry Summer’s Day, | 282 |
| Ah! how lovely sweet and dear, | 287 |
| Advance, advance, advance gay, | 288 |
| Ah! foolish Lass, what mun I do, | 322 |
| B | |
| BOld impudent Fuller invented, | 5 |
| By Moon-light on the Green, | 103 |
| Bonny Peggy Ramsey that any, | 139 |
| By shady Woods and purling, | 161 |
| Belinda! why do you distrust, | 213 |
| Born to surprize the World, | 250 |
| Bring out your Coney-Skins, | 303 |
| Bonny Scottish Lads that keens, | 326 |
| C | |
| COme bring us Wine in Plenty, | 15 |
| Come pretty Birds present your, | 120 |
| Come fill up the Bowl with, | 138 |
| Cease lovely Strephon, cease to, | 189 |
| Cease whining Damon to complain, | 202 |
| Cælia my Heart has often rang’d, | 230 |
| Corinna, if my Fate’s to love you, | 254 |
| Cælia’s Charms are past expressing, | 257 |
| Come Beaus, Virtuoso’s, rich Heirs, | 265 |
| Cease, cease of Cupid to complain, | 298 |
| Come, come ye Nymphs, | 300 |
| Chloe blush’d, and frown’d, and swore, | 345 |
| Cælia hence with Affectation, | 350 |
| D | |
| DID you not hear of a gallant, | 80 |
| Divine Astrea hither flew, | 275 |
| Draw Cupid draw, and make, | 306 |
| Damon if you will believe me, | 327 |
| Drunk I was last Night that’s, | 329 |
| Delia tir’d Strephon with her, | 343 |
| F | |
| FAir Cælia too fondly contemns, | 169 |
| Fly Damon fly, ’tis Death to stay, | 247 |
| Fear not Mortal, none shall harm, | 248 |
| Farewel ungrateful Traytor, | 335 |
| G | |
| GIlderoy was a bonny Boy, | 39 |
| Good Neighbour why do you, | 73 |
| H | |
| HOW now Sister Betteris, why look, | 68 |
| Heaven first created Woman to, | 135 |
| Hears not my Phillis how, | 149 |
| How happy’s the Mortal whose, | 179 |
| He himself courts his own Ruin, | 188 |
| How happy and free is the, | 193 |
| How charming Phillis is, | 201 |
| Hither turn thee, hither turn thee, | 211 |
| Here lies William de Valence, | 220 |
| Ho my dear Joy, now what dost, | 240 |
| Here’s a Health to the Tackers, | 284 |
| Here are People and Sports of, | 308 |
| Hark! now the Drums beat up again, | 319 |
| How often have I curs’d that sable Deceit, | 352 |
| I | |
| IAm a young Lass of Lynn, | 59 |
| I am a jovial Cobler bold and, | 75 |
| It was a Rich Merchant Man, | 77 |
| If Sorrow the Tyrant invade, | 83 |
| In the pleasant Month of May, | 101 |
| It was a happy Golden Day, | 110 |
| I prithee send me back my Heart, | 143 |
| In Chloris all soft Charms agree, | 162 |
| I lik’d, but never lov’d before, | 171 |
| Iris beware when Strephon pursues, | 199 |
| I am one in whom Nature has, | 241 |
| In vain, in vain, the God I ask, | 251 |
| In the Devil’s Country there, | 271 |
| In elder Time, there was of Yore, | 289 |
| Ianthia the lovely, the Joy of, | 301 |
| Jockey met with Jenny fair, | 317 |
| I met with the Devil in the, | 330 |
| Jilting is in such a Fashion, | 333 |
| Jockey loves his Moggy dearly, | 341 |
| L | |
| LET the Females attend, | 8 |
| Let’s be jolly, fill our Glasses, | 16 |
| Let’s sing of Stage-Coaches, | 20 |
| Last Christmas ’twas my chance, | 25 |
| Lately as thorough the fair, | 44 |
| Let Soldiers fight for Pay and Praise, | 145 |
| Long had Damon been admir’d, | 158 |
| Laurinda, who did love Disdain, | 167 |
| Let Ambition fire thy Mind, | 205 |
| Long was the Day e’er Alexis, | 214 |
| Let’s be merry, blith and jolly, | 337 |
| M | |
| MY Friend if you would understand, | 94 |
| Marriage it seems is for better, | 272 |
| N | |
| NO more let Damon’s Eyes pursue, | 239 |
| Nay pish, nay pish, nay pish Sir, | 305 |
| No, no every Morning my, | 323 |
| Now my Freedom’s regain’d, | 325 |
| No, Phillis, tho’ you’ve all the Charms, | 338 |
| Now to you ye dry Wooers, | 340 |
| O | |
| ONce more to these Arms my, | 92 |
| One Night in my Ramble I, | 109 |
| Oh! let no Eyes be dry, | 130 |
| Old Lewis le Grand, he raves like, | 151 |
| Of old Soldiers, the Song you, | 217 |
| Of late in the Park a fair Fancy, | 243 |
| Oh! how you protest and solemnly, | 316 |
| P | |
| PHilander and Sylvia, a gentle, | 140 |
| Poor Jenny and I we toiled, | 146 |
| Pretty Floramel, no Tongue can, | 160 |
| Plague us not with idle Stories, | 204 |
| Poor Mountfort is gone, and the, | 244 |
| Pretty Parrot say, when I was, | 280 |
| S | |
| STate and Ambition, all Joy to, | 11 |
| Stay, stay, shut the Gates, | 85 |
| Slaves to London I’ll deceive you, | 114 |
| Stay, ah stay, ah turn, ah whither, | 237 |
| See how fair and fine she lies, | 252 |
| Since Cælia only has the Art, | 286 |
| Some brag of their Chloris, | 307 |
| See, Sirs, see here! a Doctor rare, | 311 |
| Swain thy hopeless Passion smother, | 344 |
| T | |
| THere was an old Woman liv’d, | 13 |
| The Suburbs is a fine Place, | 27 |
| There can be no Glad man, | 32 |
| Then Jockey wou’d a wooing away, | 42 |
| There was a Lass of Islington, | 46 |
| There was a Lord of worthy Fame, | 53 |
| There was a Jovial Tinker, | 62 |
| There is a fine Doctor now come, | 71 |
| There was a Knight and he, | 112 |
| Think wretched Mortal, think, | 134 |
| To the Wars I must alass, | 137 |
| Though the Pride of my Passion fair, | 156 |
| Tell me ye Sicilian Swains, | 175 |
| To the Grove, gentle Love, let, | 182 |
| Tell me no more of Flames in, | 183 |
| Tho’ Fortune and Love may be, | 186 |
| That little Patch upon your Face, | 197 |
| Tho’ over all Mankind, besides my, | 233 |
| There lives an Ale-draper near, | 259 |
| The Caffalier was gone, and the, | 274 |
| The Devil he pull’d off his Jacket, | 278 |
| The Jolly, Jolly Breeze, | 347 |
| The Jolly, Jolly Bowl, | ib. |
| U | |
| UPon a Holiday, when Nymphs, | 87 |
| W | |
| WHere gott’st thou the Haver-mill, | 17 |
| When first Mardyke was made, | 65 |
| When Maids live to Thirty, yet never, | 99 |
| What Life can compare, with the, | 125 |
| With my Strings of small Wire, | 128 |
| When that young Damon bless’d, | 131 |
| Would you be a Man in Fashion, | 154 |
| When first I fair Celinda knew, | 157 |
| When busy Fame o’er all the, | 164 |
| Why am I the only Creature, | 165 |
| Where would coy Amyntas run, | 172 |
| When gay Philander left the Plain, | 177 |
| Wealth breeds Care, Love, Hope, | 185 |
| When first Amyntas charmed my, | 192 |
| Why so pale and wan fond Lover, | 195 |
| When I languish’d and wish’d you, | 209 |
| When first I saw her charming Face, | 277 |
| While the Love is thinking, | 283 |
| When Jemmy first began to love, | 332 |
| Y | |
| YOU Master Colours pray, | 22 |
| Ye brave Boys and Tars, | 115 |
| Young Coridon and Phillis, | 126 |
| Your Hay it is mow’d, and your, | 142 |
| You happy Youths, whose Hearts, | 191 |
| Young Ladies that live in the, | 262 |
| You I love by all that’s true, | 336 |
| You’ve been with dull Prologues, | 349 |
[Listen]
music
A
LL Christians and Lay-Elders too,
For Shame amend your Lives;
I’ll tell you of a Dog-trick now,
Which much concerns you Wives:
An Elder’s Maid near Temple-Bar,
(Ah! what a Quean was she?)
Did take an ugly Mastiff Cur,
Where Christians use to be.
Help House of Commons, House of Peers,
Oh now or never help!
Th’ Assembly hath not sat Four Years,
Yet hath brought forth a Whelp.
One Evening late she stept aside,
Pretending to fetch Eggs;
And there she made her self a Bride,
To one that had four Legs:
Her Master heard a Rumblement,
And wonder she did tarry;
Not dreaming (without his consent)
His Dog would ever Marry.
Help House of Commons, &c.
He went to peep, but was afraid,
And hastily did run,
To fetch a Staff to help his Maid,
Not knowing what was done:
He took his Ruling Elders Cane,
And cry’d out help, help, here;
For Swash our Mastiff, and poor Jane,
Are now fight Dog, fight Bear.
Help House of Commons, &c.
But when he came he was full sorry,
For he perceiv’d their Strife;
That according to the Directory,
They Two were Dog and Wife:
Ah! (then said he) thou cruel Quean,
Why hast thou me beguil’d?
I wonder Swash was grown so lean,
Poor Dog he’s almost spoil’d.
Help House of Commons, &c.
I thought thou hadst no Carnal Sense,
But what’s in our Lasses:
And could have quench’d thy Cupiscence,
According to the Classes:
But all the Parish see it plain,
Since thou art in this pickle;
Thou art an Independent Quean,
And lov’st a Conventicle.
Help House of Commons, &c.
Alas now each Malignant Rogue,
Will all the World perswade;
That she that’s Spouse unto a Dog,
May be an Elder’s Maid:
They’ll jeer us if abroad we stir,
Good Master Elder stay;
Sir, of what Classis is your Cur?
And then what can we say?
Help House of Commons, &c.
They’ll many graceless Ballads sing,
Of a Presbyterian;
That a Lay Elder is a thing
Made up half Dog, half Man:
Out, out, said he, (and smote her down)
Was Mankind grown so scant?
There’s scarce another Dog in Town,
Had took the Covenant.
Help House of Commons, &c.
Then Swash began to look full grim,
And Jane did thus reply;
Sir, you thought nought too good for him,
You fed your Dog too high:
’Tis true he took me in the lurch,
And leap’d into my Arms;
But (as I hope to come at Church)
I did your Dog no harm.
Help House of Commons, &c.
Then she was brought to Newgate Gaol,
And there was Naked stripp’d;
They whipp’d her till the Cords did fail,
As Dogs us’d to be whipp’d:
Poor City Maids shed many a Tear,
When she was lash’d and bang’d;
And had she been a Cavalier,
Surely she had been hang’d.
Help House of Commons, &c.
Hers was but Fornication found,
For which she felt the Lash:
But his was Bugg’ry presum’d,
Therefore they hanged Swash:
What will become of Bishops then,
Or Independency?
For now we find both Dogs and Men,
Stand up for Presbytry.
Help House of Commons, &c.
She might have took a Sow-gelder,
With Synod-men good store,
But she would have a Lay-Elder,
With Two Legs and Two more:
Go tell the Assembly of Divines,
Tell Adoniram blue;
Tell Burgess, Marshall, Case and Vines,
Tell Now-and-Anon too.
Help House of Commons, &c.
Some say she was a Scottish Girl,
Or else (at least) a Witch;
But she was born in Colchester,
Was ever such a Bitch:
Take heed all Christian Virgins now,
The Dog-Star now prevails;
Ladys beware your Monkeys too,
For Monkeys have long Tails.
Help House of Commons, &c.
Bless King and Queen, and send us Peace,
As we had Seven Years since:
For we remember no Dog-days,
While we enjoy’d our Prince:
Bless sweet Prince Charles, Two Dukes, Three Girls,
Lord save his Majesty;
Grant that his Commons, Lords, and Earls,
May lead such lives as He.
Help House of Commons, &c.
[Listen]
music