Page:Songs compleat, pleasant and divertive (Wit and mirth or, Pills to purge melancholy).djvu/160

She. Come, come John, let's buss and be Friends,
        Thus still, thus Love's Quarrel ends;
        I my Tongue sometimes let run,
        But alas, I soon have done.
He. 'Tis well y'are quash'd,
                You'd else been thrash'd,
                Sure as my Name's John:
She. Yet fain I'd know for what
        Y'are all so hot,
        To go to fight where nothing's got.
He. Fortune will be kind,
        And we shall then grow great too;
She. Grow Great,
        Yet want both Drink and Meat,
        And Coin, unless the pamper'd French you beat;
        Ah, take care John, take care,
        And learn more Wit.
He. Dare you prate still,
                At this rate still,
                And like a Vermin,
                Grudge my Preferment;
She. You'll beg, or get a wooden Leg.
He. Nay if Bawling, Caterwawling,
        Tittle tattle, prittle prattle,
        Still must Rattle,
        I'll be gone, and straight aboard,
She. Do, do, and so shall Hob and Sue,
        Jugg too, and all the ragged Crew.