Sharp. Whilst wretched Fools sneak up and down,
Play hide and seek about the Town;
Deprest by Debts, and Fortune's Frown,
By Duns to keep in awe:
When ever my occasions call,
And 'mongst my Creditors I fall;
I've one fine Song that Pays 'em all,
Fa, la, &c.
Host. Good Morrow Sir, I'm glad to see,
Your Humour is so brisk and free;
I hope the better 'tis for me,
If you your Purse will draw:
Y'have been two Years at Bed and Board,
And I, Lord help me, took your Word;
But now must have what here is scor'd,
For all your Fa, la, la, la, &c.
Sharp. My Purse sweet Hostess is but lank,
But I have something else in Bank;
And you at Home I'll kindly thank,
With charming sweet Sol fa:
We'll sit and Chaunt from Morn to Noon,
No Nightingale in May or June;
Did ever Sing so fine a Tune,
As Fa, la, la, la, la, la, &c.
Host. You take me for an Ideot sure,
Will this fine Tune my Debt secure;
Or Pay my Baker and my Brewer,
Or keep me from the Law:
To buy your Shirts there's Money lent,
Besides in Meat and Drink more spent;
And can you think I pay my Rent,
With Fa, la, la, la, la, la, &c.
Sharp. I'll teach thee such a pretty Song,
Shall please the Rich, Poor, Old, and Young;
Get thee a Husband Stout and Strong,
Some Country Rich Jack-Daw:
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