He had such a Trade that he turn'd me away, Yet as I was going he caus'd me to stay; So as towards him I was going to pass, He gave me a slap in the Face with his ---- _This way_, &c. I thought in my Heart he had struck off my Nose, I gave him as good as he brought I suppose; My Words they were ready and wonderful blunt, Quoth I, I had rather been stobb'd in my ---- _This way_, &c. I met with a Butcher a killing a Calf, I then stepp'd to him and cryed out half: At his first denial I fell very sick, And he said it was all for a touch of his ---- _This way_, &c. I met with a Fencer a going to School, I told him at Fencing he was but a Fool; He had but three Rapiers and they were all blunt, And told him he should no more play at my ---- _This way_, &c. I met with a Barber with Razor and Balls, He fligger'd and told me for all my brave alls; He would have a stroke, and his words they were blunt, I could not deny him the use of my ---- _This way_, &c. I met with a Fidler a Fidling aloud, He told me he had lost the Case of his Croud; I being good natur'd as I was wont, Told him he should make a Case of my ---- _This way, and that way, and which way you can, For the Fairest of Women will lye with a Man._ _A_ SONG. _Set by Mr._ KING. When on her Eyes, When on her Eyes, My happy Stars I gaze, A strange Commotion seizes every part. Fain would I speak, fain would I speak, The cause of my Disease; But fear to tell the Story of my Heart. Her look severe, Her look severe, Yet O endearing awes, Yet O endearing awes, The Women's Envy, The Women's Envy, But Mankind's applause, But Mankind's applause. _Miss_ CUDDY. [Music] Poor _Sawney_ had marry'd a Wife, And he knew not what to do with her; For she'd eat more Barly-bread, Then he knew how to give her: We'll all sup together, we'll all sup, _&c._ We'll make no more Beds than one, 'Till _Jove_ sends warmer Weather. We'll all lig together, we'll all lig together, We'll make no more Beds than one, 'Till _Jove_ sends warmer Weather. We'll put the Sheep's-head in the Pot, The Wool and the Horns together; And we will make Broth of that, And we'll all sup together, We'll all sup together, we'll all sup together, We'll make no more Beds than one, 'Till _Jove_ sends warmer Weather, We'll all lig together, _&c._ The Wool shall thicken the Broth, The Horns shall serve for Bread, By this you may understand, The Virtue that's in a Sheep's-head: And we'll all sup together, we'll all sup together, We'll make no more Beds than one, 'Till _Jove_ sends warmer Weather, And we'll all lig together, _&c._