Who all the By-standers doth earnestly pray
To bestow a penny upon him to day.
To the Tune of _Tom of Bedlam_.
[Illustration]
I am a lusty begger, [29.]
And live by others giving,
I scorne to worke,
But by the highway lurke,
And beg to get my living:
I'le i' th' wind and weather,
And weare all ragged Garments,
Yet though I am bare,
I am free from care,
A fig for high preferments.
_For still will I cry good, your worship, good sir,
Bestow one poor denier, sir;
Which when I've got,
At the Pipe and Pot,
I soon will it cashiere, sir._
I have my shifts about me,
Like _Proteus_ often changing,
My shape when I will
I alter still,
About the country ranging:
As soon as I a Coatch see,
Or Gallants by come riding,
I take my Crotch,
And rouse from my Couch,
Whereas I lay abiding.
_And still doe cry, &c._
Now as a wandring Souldier,
(That has i' th' warres bin maymed
With the shot of a Gunne)
To Gallants I runne,
And begg, sir, helpe the lamed:
I am a poore old Souldier
And better times once viewed,
Though bare now I goe,
Yet many a foe,
By me hath been subdued.
_And therefore I cry &c._
Although I nere was further,
Than Kentish-street in Southwarke,
Nor ere did see
A Battery
Made against any bulwarke;
But with my Tricks and Doxes,
Lay in some corner lurking,
And nere went abroad,
But to beg on the road,
To keep my selfe from working:
_And alwaies to cry &c._
Anon I'm like a saylor
And weare old Canvas cloathing,
And then I say
The Dunkerks away,
Took all and left me nothing:
Sixe ships set all upon us,
'Gainst which we bravely ventur'd
And long withstood,
Yet could doe no good,
Our ship at length they enter'd
_And therefore I cry &c._
Sometime I like a Criple
Upon the ground lye crawling,
For money I begge,
As wanting a legge
To beare my corps from falling:
Then seeme I weake of body,
And long t' have beene diseased,
And make complaint
As ready to faint,
And of my griefs increased.
_And faintly I cry &c._
My flesh I can so temper,
That it shall seeme to feister
And looke all ore,
Like a raw sore,
Whereon I stick a plaister:
With blood I daub my face then,
To faigne the falling sicknesse,
That in every place
They pitty my case,
As if it came from weaknesse.
_And then I doe cry &c._
Then as if my sight I wanted,
A Boy doth walke beside me,
Or else I doe
Grope as I goe,
Or have a dog to guide me:
And when I'm thus accounted,
To th' highway side I hye me,
And there I stand
With Cords in my hand,
And beg of all comes nye me.
_And earnestly cry &c._
Next to some country fellow
I presently am turned,
And cry alacke,
With a Child at my back,
My house and goods were burned:
Then me my Doxes follow,
Who for my Wifes believed,
And along wee two
Together goe,
With such mischances grieved.
_And still we doe cry &c._
What though I cannot labour,
Shall I therefore pine with hunger,
No, rather than I
Will starve where I lye,
I'le beg of the money monger:
No other care shall trouble
My minde, nor griefe disease me,
Though sometimes the flash
I get or the lash
'Twill but a while displease me.
_And still will I cry &c._
No tricks at all shall scape me,
But I will by my maunding
Get some reliefe
To ease my griefe,
When by the highway standing:
'Tis better be a Begger
And aske of kind good fellowes,
And honestly have
What we do crave,
Than steale and goe to the Gallowes.
_Therefore I'le cry &c._