An ANSWER to the MAIDENS Frolic: OR, THE Tailor's Resolution to be Revenged of these Petticoat Press-Masters, by Bobtailing their Gowns and Petticoats for the future, more than ever they have done heretofore.  
To the Tune of, An Orange.  
Licenced according to Order.  
 
 

'TIS not long ago, good People you know,  
Since Six Lusty Maids did a Frolicking go,  
In Tarpolling Dress, Joan, Bridget, and Bess,  
Like Lusty stout Seamen they ventured to Press  
Fourteen Tailors.   

Now when they were told, these Press-masters bold,  
Were none but Six Lasses scarce Twenty years old,  
The Tailors they swore and their Noddles they Tore,  
Saying, was ever Workmen so served before,  
as we Tailors?   

Quoth William Westgate, such Frolics I hate,  
Why should we poor Tailors be served at this rate?  
Joan she did me take, and my Collar did shake,  
Then hauled me away like a Bear to the Stake,  
a poor Tailor.   

Quoth Anthony Bright, Why didst thou not fight,  
And put those young Petticoat Sparks to the flight?  
Had I been in place then no Female Race  
Should never a proved so high a Disgrace  
to we Tailors.   

Said Will. had I known, Nan, Bridget, and Joan  
Had been the Pressmasters, they soon should have sown,  
For calling my Wife she'd a ended the strife;  
But for my own part I ne'er fought in my life,  
I'm a Tailor.   

A Night and a Day confined we lay,  
Although we did often both sigh, beg, and pray,  
Ralph, Richard, and Ben and Shone ap Morgen,  
In all we were Thirteen or Fourteen stout Men,  
Honest Tailors.   

Thus were we abused, and cruelly used,  
For which these young Lasses shall near be excused;  
A Counsel we'll call for to punish them all,  
We'll show them no mercy nor pity at all,  
as we are Tailors.   

To this they agreed, and thus they proceed,  
To summons all Tailors that could Write & Read,  
Their Sorrows to note, and give in their Vote,  
How much silk or stuff should be pinched from a Coat,  
by the Tailors.   

Our wrongs to repair, from Garments Maids wear,  
This must be performed with dexterous care;  
'Tis known to be true, one Yard is our due,  
But now in revenge we resolve to take two  
for the Tailors.   

Down to the Maypole those Tailors did troll,  
And there did they meet o'er a cherishing Bowl,  
Ralph, Richard, and Ned, these three was the head,  
They call for Six Pots, & Twelve dozen of Bread,  
like brave Tailors.   

The Court being set, the Tailors all met,  
Good lack, if the Devil come there with his Net,  
Of both Rich and Poor he had gotten great store,  
They say there was surely three hundred and more,  
and all Tailors.   

Then Shone ap Morgen her thus did begin,  
Cuds-plutter-a-nails her believes 'tis no Sin,  
To cousin each Shade which did us degrade,  
And Cabbage her knows does belong to the Trade  
of the Tailors.   

They all did agree from six yards to steal three,  
That these wanton Lasses now punished might be,  
Welsh Shone's in a huff, said that's not enough  
Hur means to steal all, and forswear Silk & Stuff,  
like a Tailor.   
FINIS.   

Printed for P. Brooksby, J. Deacon, J. Blare, J. Black.