QUINTIN DICK's

FARE WELL TO MALDON

I'm in a pretty mess,
And I have made a bother,
I am finely knocked about
From one place to the other ;
I know not what to do,
My head is now in thraldom,
They nicely made me rue,
And kicked me out of Maldon.

Oh ! dear ! I'm nicely done,
They have me now in thraldom,
Pity poor old Quintin Dick,
You pretty girls of Maldon.

I thought that I was once
As sly as any regard,
But now I am kicked out
By Waddington and Lennard ;
One King did turn his coat,
The good for nothing fellow,
And he shall have a shirt,
Made purple, blue, and yellow.

I am poor old Quintin Dick,
Bereft of home and riches,
I have pawned my hat and coat,
And sold my shirt and breeches ;
They say in Maldon town,
I am a curious joker,
Not fit to represent
Jack Tyrrell's tongs and poker.

To Maldon I will go,
At Highbridge I will wrestle,
And up it into Ward
To-morrow at the Castle ;
Then I'll go to the Ball,
And fiare away like flinders,
Sing my last dying speech,
And then jump through the windows.

No member I shall be,
Because they say I'm simple,
If you'd elected me,
Such lots of perriwinkles,
Cockles too, and crabs.
And beef a penny a pound, sir,
Thirteen ship loads of dabs,
And such a lot of flounders.

O crikey ! knock me down,
And paint my breeches yellow,
You girls of Maldon town,
Say Quintin Dick for ever !
And I'll go to the Queen,
Along with Sally Nepper,
And a license I will get,
To wollop Harry Pepper.

Pea soup and hot cow heels,
Red herrings, beef, and cabbage,
Tripe and saveloys,
Oh ! ar'nt I d——savage ;
I do not like the Bull,
Nor the Castle, 'cause I'm simple,
And I'll bet a crown I break
Young Harry Pepper's pimple.

Adieu ! a last adieu !
Wherever shall I wander,
I am in the blues,
And weeping like a gander ;
Poor old Quintin Dick,
Turned out, what funny capers,
Running through the streets
Bawling baked potatoes.

Printed for the Author, J. MORGAN,
Anne Street, Westminster.