Then since the Sword so bright doth shine, We'll leave our Wenches and our Wine, And follow _Mars_ where-e'er he runs, And turn our Pots and Pipes to Guns. The Bottles shall be Grenadoes, We'll bounce about the Bravado's By huffing and puffing, and snuffing and cuffing the _French_ Boys, Whose Brows have been dy'd in a Trench Boys; Well got Fame is a Warriour's Wife, The Drawer shall be the Drummer, We'll be Colonels all next Summer By hiking and tilting, and pointing and jointing like brave Boys, We shall have Gold or a Grave, Boys, And there's an end of a Soldier's Life. _The_ MISSES _Complaint._ _Tune_, Packington's Pound. [Music] How now Sister _Betteris_, why look you so sad? _Gillian._ The times are so hard and our trading so bad, That we in our Function no Money can gain, Our Pride and our Bravery for to maintain. _Bett._ True Sister, _Gillian_, I know it full well, But what will you say if such News I do tell? And how't will rejoyce you, I'll make it out plain, Will make our Trade quick, and more Money will gain. There's none of the pitiful Tribe we'll be for, And Six-penny Customers we will abhor; For all those that will our Dominions invade, Must pay for their sauce, we must live by our Trade. _Gil._ Good Sister if you can make this but appear, My Spirit and Senses you greatly will chear, But a Famine of Flesh will bring all things to pass, Or else we are as bad still as ever we was. _Bett._ Lately a Counsel of Bauds there did meet, In _Cock_ and _Pye_ Alley, near _Do-little_ Street: And who was the Counsel, and what was there done; I'll make it out to you as clear as the Sun. From _Ratcliffe-highway_, and from _Nightingale-lane_, Their Deputies come with a very fine Train: Unto these two Couple come long sided _Sue_, Is as good as e'er twang'd, if you give her her due. Then _Tower-Ditch_ and _Hatton-Wall_ sent in their Prayers, And drest as compleatly as Horses to Fairs; With them Jumping _Jenny_ appear'd, as 'tis said, Who ne'er in her Life of a Man was afraid. The two Metropolitans came from the Park, As arch at the Game, as e'er plaid in the Dark; Then _Lutener's_-lane a gay Couple did bring, Two better, I think, was ne'er stretch'd in hemp-string. There was many others from Places remote, The which were too tedious for me here to note; And what was their Business I here will declare, How to keep our Trade in Repute they take care. And first for those Ladies that walk in the Night, Their Aprons and Handkerchiefs they should be white, And that they do walk more in Town than in Fields, For that is the Place most Variety yields. And those that are over-much worn by their Trade, Shall go in a Vessel, their Passage being paid; The Venture of Cuckolds, 'tis called by Name, And this is the way for to keep up our Fame.