The Jolly Gentleman's FROLIC: OR, The City Ramble.  
Being, An Account of a young Gallant, who Wagered to pass any of the Watches, without giving them an Answer; but being stopped by the Constable at Cripplegate, was sent to the Counter, afterwards had before my Lord Mayor, and was Cleared by the Intercession of my Lord Mayor's Daughter.  
To a Pleasant New Tune.  
 
 

GIve ear to a frolicsome Ditty,  
of one that a Wager did lay  
He'd pass any Watch in the City,  
and never a Word he would say  

But, Dalinea, derra, rarra, etc.    

The Constable spoke to his Watchmen,  
brave Boys, it is my Delight,  
And Orders have for to catch Men,  
who Ramble too late in the Night.  

The Humour etc.,    

The Streets do Echo, we hear, Boys,  
with Madmen coming along;  
My Staff is ready, ne'er fear, Boys,  
we'll make 'em alter their Song.  

The Humour etc.,    

Stand, stand, says the Bellman,  
the Constable now come before,  
And if a just Story you tell, Man,  
I'll Light you home to your own Door:  

The Humour etc.,    

This is a very late season,  
which surely no Honest Men keep,  
And therefore 'tis but just reason,  
that you in the Counter should sleep.  

The Humour, etc. (Sad.),    

Take away this same Fellow,  
and him to the Counter convey,  
Although his Frolic is mellow,  
he something to Morrow will say.  

The Humour, etc. (Sad.),    

Open the Gate, make no scorning,  
take Charge of your Prisoner there,  
And we will soon in the morning,  
appear before my Lord Mayor.  

The Humour, etc. (Sad.),    

A Bottle of Claret I'll fill, Sir,  
some Pipes of Tobacco, beside.  
And if that it now be your will, Sir,  
a Bed for you soon we'll provide.  

The Humour etc.,    

This Frolic soon Echoed the Prison,  
the Debtors his Garnish would have;  
Without demanding the reason,  
whate'er they-required, he gave.  

The Humour etc.,    

The Constable soon the next day, Sir,  
this Comical matter to clear,  
The Gentleman hurrys straightways, sir,  
before my Lord Mayor to appear.  

The Humour etc.,    

My Lord, give ear to my Story,  
while I the truth do relate,  
The Gentleman standing before ye,  
was seized by me at Cripplegate.  

The Humour, etc. (Sad.),    

I nothing could hear but his Singing,  
wherefore in the Counter he lay,  
And therefore this morning I bring him  
to hear what your Lordship will say.  

The Humour, etc. (Sad.),   

Come Friend, the Case does appear now,  
that you was in a Mad Fit,  
I hope that you may be clear now,  
since Sleep has restored you your Wit.  

The Humour, etc. (Sad.),    

This Gentleman sure is Distracted,  
he's overheated his Brain,  
Since he thus silly has acted,  
to th' Counter I'll send him again.  

The Humour, etc. (Sad.),    
A Prison sure it will tame him,  
and bring him soon to his Sense,  
There's nothing else can reclaim him,  
from this his notorious Offence,  

The Humour, etc. (Sad,),    

O than bespoke my Lord's Daughter,  
and for him did thus Intercede,  
Dear Father, you'll hear that hereafter,  
this is but a Wager, indeed.  

The Humour etc.,    

Therefore be pleased, kind Father,  
to hear one word more of me,  
And show to me so much favour,  
this Gentleman may be set free.  

The Humour etc.,    

Well, Daughter, I grant your Petition,  
the Gentleman home may repair,  
But yet 'tis upon this Condition,  
of paying my Officers there.  

The Humour etc.,    

Come Sir, your Fees we require,  
you freed are now by the Court,  
And all that we do desire,  
you'll find out some other new Sport.  

The Humour etc.,    

Thus seeing he might be Released,  
if he his Fees did but pay,  
He then was very well pleased,  
and so went Singing awa●,  

The Humour etc.,     

Printed for C. Bates, at the White-Hart in West-Smithfield.