Part 13

Such an happy, happy Life, Ne'er had any other Wife; As the loose _Corinna_ knows, Between her Spark, Her Spark and Spouse: The Husband lies and winks his Eyes, The valiant makes Addresses, The wanton Lady soon complies, With tenderest Caresses.

The Wife is pleas'd, The Husband eas'd, The Lover made a drudge, His Body's drain'd, his Pocket's squeez'd; And who'll his Pleasure grudge, _Such an happy_, &c.

_Corinna's_ gay, As Flow'rs in _May_, And struts with slanting Ayre; The Lovers for her Pride doth pay, The Cuckold's free from Care, _Such an happy_, &c.

COLLIN's _Complaint_.

[Music]

Despairing besides a clear stream, A Shepherd forsaken was laid; And whilst a false Nymph was his Theme, A Willow supported his Head: The Winds that blew over the Plain, To his Sighs with a Sigh did reply; And the Brook in return of his Pain, Ran mournfully murmuring by.

Alas silly Swain that I was, Thus sadly complaining he cry'd; When first I beheld that fair Face, 'Twere better by far I had dy'd: She talk'd, and I blest the dear Tongue, When she smil'd 'twas a Pleasure too great; I listned, and cry'd when she Sung, Was Nightingale ever so sweet.

How foolish was I to believe, She cou'd doat on so lowly a Clown; Or that a fond Heart wou'd not grieve, To forsake the fine Folk of the Town: To think that a Beauty so gay, So kind and so constant wou'd prove; Or go clad like our Maidens in Gray, Or live in a Cottage on Love.

What tho' I have skill to complain, Tho' the Muses my Temples have crown'd; What tho' when they hear my soft Strains, The Virgins sit weeping around: Ah _Collin_ thy Hopes are in vain, Thy Pipe and thy Lawrel resign; Thy false one inclines to a Swain, Whose Musick is sweeter than thine.

And you my Companions so dear, Who sorrow to see me betray'd; Whatever I suffer forbear, Forbear to accuse my false Maid, Tho' thro' the wide World we shou'd range, 'Tis in vain from our Fortunes to fly; 'Twas hers to be false and to change, 'Tis mine to be Constant and die.

If whilst my hard Fate I sustain, In her Breast any Pity is found; Let her come with the Nymphs of the Plain, And see me laid low in the Ground; The last humble Boon that I crave, Is to shade me with _Cypress_ and _Yew_; And when she looks down on my Grave, Let her own that her Shepherd was true.

Then to her new Love let her go, And deck her in Golden Array; Be finest at every fine Show, And Frolick it all the long Day: Whilst _Collin_ forgotten and gone, No more shall be talk'd of or seen; Unless that beneath the Pale Moon, His Ghost shall glide over the Green.

_The Constant_ Warrior: _Set by Mr._ Ramondon.

Farewel _Chloe_, O farewel, I'll repair to Wars alarms; And in foreign Nations tell, Of your Cruelty and Charms: Come ye briny Billows rowl, And convey me from my Soul, Come ye briny Billows rowl, And convey me from my Soul: Since the cruel Fair, The cause of my Despair, Has forc'd me hence to go, Where stormy Winds do blow; Where raging Seas do toss and mount, With dangers that I can't recount, Forgive me showing thus my Woe; _Where raging Seas do toss_, &c.

When you hear of Deeds in War, Acted by your faithful Swain; Think, oh think, that from afar, 'Twas you conquer'd all were slain: For by calling on your Name, I Conquer'd whereso'er I came; Shou'd my Fate not be, To keep my Body free, From Wounds and Bruises too, Whilst Honour I pursue; 'Twou'd raise my Reputation, My Pain I'd lose in Passion, And glory that 'twas done for you.

Shou'd grim Death once assail me, It cou'd never fright your Slave, Fortune self cou'd never fail me, Only you can make my Grave: My Destiny shou'd grant reprieve, I cou'd not Die, if you said live: Were it to be found, In all the World around, An instance of such Love, As you in me may prove: I'd never ask return, But patiently wou'd burn, Nor more your generous pity move.

O my guardian Angel say, Can such proofs your Passion gain; If it can I'll bless the Day, That I venture on the Main: Then with Joy cry Billows rowl, And convey me to my Soul: Return with glory Crown'd, Upon the lowly Ground, Kneel at your Feet a while, And there my Fears beguile: And think my Toyl repaid, If you'd vouchsafe dear Maid, To crown my Labours with a Smile.

_The true Use of the_ BOTTLE.

[Music]

Love, the sweets of Love, are the Joys I most admire, Kind and active Fire, Of a fierce Desire, Indulge my Soul, compleat my Bliss; But th' affected coldness Of _CÊlia_ damps my boldness, I must bow, protest and Vow, And swear aloud, I wou'd be Proud, When she with equal Ardour longs to Kiss: Bring a Bowl, then bring a Jolly Bowl, I'll quench fond Love within it; With flowing Cups I'll raise my Soul, And here's to the happy Minute: For flush'd with brisk Wine, When she's panting and warm; And Nature unguarded lets loose her Mind, In the Amorous moment the Gipsie I'll find, Oblige her and take her by Storm.

_A_ SONG _in the_ Farce _call'd the_ Younger _the_ Wiser: _Set by Mr._ DANIEL PURCELL. _Sung by Mr._ LEVERIDGE.

[Music]

How happy's he who weds a Wife, Well practis'd, well practis'd in the _London_ Life; Dull Country Brides a Sense may want, To hide the Favours which they grant.

How happy's he who weds a Wife, We'll practis'd, well practis'd in the _London_ Life; But _London_ Wives Coquet by Rule, Discreetly please the Men they Fool.

How happy's he who weds a Wife, Well practis'd, well practis'd in the _London_ Life.

_A_ SONG. _Set by Mr._ RAMONDON. _Sung at the_ Theatre.

[Music]

How Charming _Phillis_ is, how Fair, How Charming _Phillis_ is, how Fair, O that she were as willing, To ease my wounded Heart of Care, And make her Eyes less killing: To ease my wounded Heart of Care, And make her Eyes less killing, To ease my wounded Heart of Care, And make her Eyes less killing, To ease my wounded Heart of Care, And make her Eyes less killing: I sigh, I sigh, I languish now, And Love will not let me rest; I drive about the Park and Bow, Where'er I meet my Dearest.

_A_ SONG. _Set by Mr._ BERENCLOW.

Why will _Clemene_, when I gaze, My ravish'd Eyes reprove; And chide 'em from the only Face, That they were made to Love: Was not I born to wear your Chain, I should delight to rove; From your cold Province of Disdain, To some warm Land of Love.

But shou'd a gentle Nymph when try'd, To me prove well inclin'd; My destin'd Heart must yet reside, With you the most unkind; So destin'd Exiles as they roam, While kindly us'd elsewhere; Still languish after Native home, Tho' Death, Death is threatned there.

FINIS.

Transcriber's Note

Publication Date: 1719/1720

Author Lifespan: 1653-1723

[from English Song-Books by Day and Murrie:

The origins of Wit and Mirth: or Pills to Purge Melancholy, the most famous song book of its day, may be traced back to a single volume of 'witty ballads, jovial songs, and merry catches' by an earlier generation of lyricists, published without music in 1661 under the title An Antidote against Melancholy: made up in Pills. For the third edition, still without music but livened up by more recent songs, the title was changed to Wit and Mirth: An Antidote against Melancholy (1682), and in 1699, still in one volume, it was published by Henry Playford with music. Over the course of the next two decades it was expanded and republished again and again, eventually to become this six-volume 'standard edition' of contemporary popular comic and bawdy ballads, with an increasing emphasis on the work of the stammering dramatist and lyricist Thomas D'Urfey, whose songs were sung by all the town. Among the composers were Dr. John Blow and Henry Purcell.]

[from Wikipedia:

Thomas D'Urfey (1653-1723) was an English dramatist and songwriter. He wrote the plays The Fond Husband in 1676, Madame Fickle in 1677 and The Virtuous Wife in 1680. He also wrote the song collection Wit and Mirth, or Pills to Purge Melancholy between 1719 and 1720.]

The book is not always gramatically correct, e.g.: "There was three Travellers". Odd spellings, and odd grammatical constructions, if they make sense, have been preserved. There is some dialect, which has also been preserved. (e.g.: "Wo'as me poor Lass! what mun I do?")

Apostrophes of ownership are conspicuous by their absence. Spelling is sometimes quaint...'spight' for 'spite', 'dye' for 'die', 'chuse' for choose', 'seaze' for 'seize', 'quere' for 'queer', etc. Where a spelling makes sense, and is merely discretional and not obviously incorrect, it has been retained.

'Their' instead of 'there' has appeared twice (page 4 and page 201), retained, and 'Pharoah' (page 225), retained: it _is_ a drinking song.

pp. 245-246: 'Monsieur Grabeau' (twice) on page 245 becomes Monsieur Grabeu (four times) on page 246.

[Note (from Wikipedia):

Louis Grabu, Grabut, Grabue, or Grebus (fl. 1665-1690, died after 1693) was a Catalan-born, French-trained composer and violinist who was mainly active in England.

While he was probably born in Catalonia--he was later referred to as 'Lodovicus Grabeu of Shalon in Catalunnia' --details of his early life are lacking. Sometime in his youth he moved to Paris, where he was most likely trained by Lully. At the time of the Restoration he went to England, where French music, especially opera, was much in vogue.

Charles II of England appointed him as a composer for his own private music in 1665, and with the death of Nicholas Lanier in 1666 he became the second person to hold the title Master of the King's Musick. He adapted Robert Cambert's opera Ariadne for a London performance in 1674, and wrote music for John Dryden's Albion and Albanius in 1685.

In 1693 he left England, the only land where he had achieved any kind of fame, and completely disappeared from historical record.]

Consonants were not necessarily doubled where we would now expect. Standardised modern spelling is a fairly recent (mid 19th century) imposition, probably coinciding with the various Public Education Acts. Some spellings may be left over from Middle English, e.g. 'sily' from 'sely', dialect 'seely', from OE 'sÊlig' (luck, happiness); thus 'sily' (p. 58) may have meant 'lucky' or 'happy' instead of the modern 'silly'. Or 'sily' may be our modern 'silly', with an undoubled middle consonant.

Damaged or missing punctuation has been repaired and sundry indents have been adjusted for consistency.

Errata

Page 96: 'VVidow' corrected to 'Widow'. (Possibly a printer's error....). ... "Which way to take the Widow Brown,"

Page 103: 'do' corrected to 'to': "They'll hourly study to deceive,"

Page 107: 'VVho' corrected to 'Who': "Who dare not their Grief declare," (... or maybe the printer was short of 'W's).

Sundry other instances of 'VV' have been corrected to 'W'.

Page 131: 'Ny' corrected to 'My': "My Nose takes the burthen...."

Page 161: 'MORTAL's' corrected to 'MORTALs': "Mortals learn your Lives to measure,"

Page 238: 'maguanime' corrected to 'magnanime': "Sat notus pro magnanime"

Page 312: missing 'I' added to last line to complete rhyme: "And Priest and Victim I."

Page 316: 'I'ye' corrected to "I've": "I've lost a Harry Groat,"

[Note: Harry was King Henry; a groat was an old English silver coin, first coined by Henry III in 1249, and by Edward III in 1351. Originally worth one penny, it later rose to the value of fourpence. The groat was revived between 1836 and 1856, and withdrawn from circulation in 1887 (from Collins New Age Encyclopedia, 1963)].