Bestow one small Denire, Sir [1]
And brauely at the bousing Ken [2]
He bouse it all in Beere, Sir. [3]

II

If a Bung be got by the hie Law, [4]
Then straight I doe attend them,
For if Hue and Crie doe follow, I
A wrong way soone doe send them.
Still doe I cry, etc.

III

Ten miles vnto a Market.
I runne to meet a Miser,
Then in a throng, I nip his Bung, [5]
And the partie ne'er the wiser.
Still doe I cry, etc.

IV

My dainty Dals, my Doxis, [6]
Whene'er they see me lacking,
Without delay, poore wretches they
Will set their Duds a packing. [7]
Still doe I cry, etc.
V

I pay for what I call for,