Page:Ancient history of three bonnets (NLS104184532).pdf/22

While he wad ſhaw his fangs and rage,
With bootleſs brangling in his cage.
Now follows that we take a peep,
Of Bawſy looking like a ſheep,
By Briſtle hated and diſpis'd,
By Jouk and Roſie as little pris'd.
Soon as the horſe had heard his brither
Joukum and Roſe were prick'd the gither
Away they ſcour o'er hight and how,
For fidging fain what'eer he dow,
Counting what things he now did miſter
That wad be gi'en him by his ſiſter,
Like ſhallow bards wha think they fiee,
Becauſe they live ſax ſtories high,
To ſome poor lifeleſs lucubration,
Perfixes fleeching dedication,
And blythly dream they'll be reſtor'd.
To ale-houſe credit by my lord.
Thus Bawſy's mind in plenty row'd,
While he thought on his promis'd gowd,
And baileyſhip, which he with fines,
Wad mak like the Weſt-India mines,
Arrives, with future greatneſs dizzy,
Ca's. Where's Meſt Jouk?
Beef. --Meſt Jouk is biſy.
Bawſy. My Lady Roſie, is ſhe at leiſure
Beef. No, Sir, my Lady's at her pleaſure
Bawſy. I wait for her, or him, go ſhew
Beef. And pray ye, Maſter, wha are you
Bawſy. Upo' my ſaul this porter's ſawſy
Sirrah, go tell my name is Bawſy,