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amuse themselves. Sing the ladies one of your new songs.

SIR JOHN HAZELWOOD.

I believe they would rather have one of your old ones.

SALLY.

Will you please to have the Sailor's Courtship to the Tinker's Daughter; or, "My tatter'd Hose and clouted Shoon"?

SIR JOHN HAZELWOOD.

I rather think the clouted shoon will do best.

SONG.

Tho' richer swains thy love pursue,
In Sunday geer, and bonnets new;
And ev'ry fair before thee lay
Their silken gifts with colours gay;
They love thee not, alas! so well
As one who sighs and dares not tell;
Who haunts thy dwelling, night and noon
In tatter'd hose and clouted shoon.

I grieve not for my wayward lot,
My empty folds, my roofless cot;
Nor hateful pity, proudly shown,
Nor alter'd looks nor friendship flown;
Nor yet my dog with lanken sides,
Who by his master still abides;
But how will Nan prefer my boon,
In tatter'd hose and clouted shoon!