London drollery, or, The wits academy being a select collection of the newest songs, lampoons, and airs alamode : with several other most ingenious peices [sic] of railery, never before published / by W.H.

The Old and Decrepit Beggers Wedding.

WHilom there was an Aged Begger Old, In his life full fourscore Winters told; His Head all frozen, Beard long, white as snow, With a staffs propp. uneath else might he go With bleared eyne, all parched dry and cold With shaking-Palsey, little could he hold: His Cloaths so tatter'd, for they were so worn, Older than he, in many pieces torn; The subtlest eye, and prying'st brain, those seen, Both could not guess what stuff't had ever been: On's Cloak more several patches there did stick, That labour'd Algebras with all his Magick, Could once tell how to number; and was fuller Then was the Rainbow of each various colour: But not so fresh: so faden when they were seen, That none could guess, which red, which blew, which green, His Turf-house lean'd to an old stump of Oak, A hole a top there was to void the smoke: Cover'd with stoln boughs, which could not be fed, But by his daily begging, daily Bread:

There on a little bench I'll leave him then, Within a while I'll speak of him agen.

Another Begger-woman, a little sunder'd From him, whom all the Town said was a hunderd: Toothless she was, nay worn were all her gums, And all her fingers too were worn to thumbs: Wrinkles, deep graves to bury all delight, Eyes new sunk holes; little she had of sight: Little could speak, as little Sense could tell, Seldom she heard, somtimes the great Town-bell. A long forgetfulness her Legs had seiz'd, For many years her Crutches had them eas'd. Cloths, thousand rags tore with the wind and weather, Her House-wifry long since had sow'd together. No livelyhood, but Charity grown cold, As she was this, more than her years made old.

In a hot Summers day, they out did creep, Inlivened just like flyes, for else they sleep: Creeping at last, each one to other get Lowsing each other, kindly thus they met: Apollo's Master-piece shining did aim To light dead ashes sparks: not make a flame. To stir up Nature in 'em now so cold, And whither Cupid dwells in them who are old? Now heat and kindness made him try to kiss her, Her palsied-head so shak'd he still did miss her:

He thought of modesty, she 'gainst her will Striving to please him, could not hold it still: She mumbled, but he could not understand her, But cry'd sweet Hero, I'le be thy Leander: She said before we met, cold as a stone is, I was: but now am Venus, thou Adonis. Such heights of passions, Love had brought these two, As youngest Lovers, when they gin too woo: For Cupids reign o're Mankind still will have, He governs from the Cradle to the Grave: Their vertues such, not sin; yet would not tarry, So heated, vow'd a contract then to Marry: This Marriage now divulg'd was every where To Neighbour Beggars; Beggars far and near. The day appointed, and the Marriage set, The lame, the blind, the deaf, they all were met, Such throngs of Beggars, Women, Children seen, Muster'd all on the Town's fair grassy green: The Bridegroom led between two lame men so, Because our Bridegroom fast he could not go: The Bride was led by Blindmen, close behind, Because you know that Love is alwayes blind. The Hedge-Priest then, which they did with them bring, Marry'd them both with an old Curtain Ring. No Father there was found, or could be ever, She was so old, that there was none to give her; With acclamations now of louder joy, Pray'd Hymen Priapus to send a Boy

To shew a miracle in vows most deep, The Parish swore their Children all to keep. Then Tom a Bedlam wound his horn: at best Their Trumpet, now to bring away the Feast, Pick'd Marrow-bones they'd found lately in th' street, VVith Carrots, kickt out of Kennels with their feet: Crusts gather'd up, for bisket 'twas so dry'd As if't lain in Alms-Tubs long, and more beside: Many such dishes had, but yet 'twould cumber, Any to name them; more than I can number: Then came the Banquet, that must never fail, Which the Town gave; that's white-bread, and strong Ale; Each was so Tipsie that they could not go, And yet would dance, and cry for Musick ho: Grid-irons & Tongs, with Keys they plaid on to, And blindmen sung to them, as us'd to do: Some that were there, on hollow sticks did sound, And so melodiously they play'd a round: Lame men, lame Women, mingled cry'd advance, And so all limping Jovially did Dance: The Deaf men to, for they must not forbear, When they saw this, although they could not hear: Which was their happiness: now to the house Of Bridegroom brought the Bride, each Drunk as Mouse.

No room for any but them two they saw, So laid them down in Bed of fresher straw; Then took their leaves, put out the rushy light, But they themselves did revel all the night: The Bridegroom busles now, kist, and said friend, But when he kist, thought 'twas at t'other end: He cry'd her mercy, said he could not look It was so dark, and thought he had mistook: No said the Bride most sweetly then y'are right, As if our Taper here were burning bright: They bust, and kist, and bust agen, and kist, And she though Palsy head, it seldom mist; They both now fill'd with Ale, brains in't did steep So Arms in Arms, our Lovers fell asleep: So, for the will, though nothing else indeed To Love, the Beggars built a Piramide.

The Epilogue to the Beggars Wedding.

TOth' Beggars Trade, I've serv'd 2 Prentiships, For which I know I've tasted several whips: Give your advice, d'ye think I now am made Free o'th' Beggars Company, and the Trade: My mind in secret to your ear I speak, Is such, as I am sure I shall not break, Unless in passion, when no meat I get, When Belly-timber wants, 'twill make one fret.

For otherwise, when abroad I lead my Scorta, We each may say, Omnia mea, mecum porta, And being Philosophers, there's none will scant Their pittance to us, that we ne'r shall want, Then let Boreas burst his cheeks, anth' Sea roar, The Beggars bark can ne'r be tumbled o'r: What fitter subject for my Muse can be, Than make Descriptions of our company; But being in hast, and for some causes vext I'll cease: and happily may say more i'th' next.

For the Beggars theam too well my fortunes fit, My Fancy's beggarly too, faith and so's my wit.