The Miser mumped of his Gold; OR, The merry Frolic of a Lady of Pleasure in Bartholomew-Fair; Showing, how she fed the Usurer with Pig, but made him pay for the Sauce.  
To the Tune of Letoy Caesar live long. Licenced according to Order.  
 

A Lady of Pleasure in Bartholomew-Fair  
Was powdered and painted, nay dressed in her Hair;  
In such rich Apparel she then did appear  
As if her Estate was ten thousand a Year:  
Of each huffing Gallant she would make an Ass,  
She fed them with Pig, but they paid for the Sauce.   

Among all the rest I will mention but one,  
A Miser, who is in fair London well known;  
Yet I will forbear now to mention his Name,  
Because I am willing to keep free from blame:  
Of this wretched Miser she made a mere Ass,  
She fed him with Pig, but he paid for the Sauce.   

'Tis known this old Miser he seldom did eat  
From Years-end to Years-end a meal of good meat:  
Except it was given him freely, and then  
He would eat as much as five labouring Men;  
He happened to meet with this beautiful Lass  
Who fed him with Pig, but he paid for the sauce.   

It happened this Miser went over the Rounds  
And under his Arm he had sevenscore Pounds:  
The which he was going that Morning to lend:  
This Lady she met him and said My dear Friend  
Your former good Nature lays claim to a Glass:  
She found Wine and Pig, but he paid for the sauce.   

The Miser he told her he dare not drink Wine  
Nor any such liquors until he had Dined:  
Quoth we, since she here did so luckily meet,  
I now am resolved to give thee a treat:  
Away to her chamber they straightways did pass,  
She fed him with pig, but he paid for the sauce.   

A Dinner she straightways provided with speed,  
The Miser he like an old Farmer did feed,  
Concluding that he should have nothing to pay,  
But to eat and drink, aye and so go his way:  
The Lady supplied him with Glass after Glass,  
She found him with Pig, but he paid for the Sauce.   

This Lady supplied him with Liquor good store,  
Till he was not able to drink any more;  
Full Bowls of Canary he had drank so deep,  
That all of a sudden he fell fast asleep:  
Thus of this Old Miser she made a mere Ass,  
She fed him with Pig, but he paid for the Sauce.   

She shook him, and finding that he would not wake,  
The Sevenscore Pound she did presently take;  
Then locking the Miser up in an old Chest,  
This brings me, in short, to the Cream of the Jest:  
Thus her waggish purpose was soon brought to pass,  
She fed him with Pig, but he paid for the Sauce.   

Now he having told her before where he dwelled,  
In this subtle manner she cunningly dealt;  
Strait calling a Porter to finish this strife,  
The Miser she sent in a Chest to his Wife,  
Without e'er a Penny in Silver, alas!  
Thus she fed him with Pig, but he paid for the Sauce.   

This Lady she gave him two Shillings at first,  
And bid him be sure he was true to his Trust,  
Now for to deliver his Burden with Care,  
For why I must tell you it is Merchant's Ware:  
And thus the poor Miser was made a mere Ass,  
She fed him with Pig, but he paid for the Sauce.   

Now just as the Porter came to his own Door,  
The Miser awaked, and loudly did roar;  
The honest poor Porter was frighted alack!  
Supposing that he had Old Nick at his back:  
But it was the wretched Old Miser, alas!  
Who was fed with Pig, but he paid for the Sauce.   

The Wife she was frighted this Wretch to behold,  
The Miser stark-mad for his Silver and Gold;  
But all was in vain, tho' he searched Smithfield round,  
The Lady of Pleasure was not to be found:  
Thus of an Old Miser she made a mere Ass,  
She gave him roast Pig, but he paid for the Sauce.    

Printed for P. Brooksby, I. Deacon, I. Blare, I. Back.