The King And Queen Of Hearts

Showing how notably the Queen made her tarts, and how scurvily the Knave stole them away, with other particulars belonging thereunto

Printed for Thomas Hodgkins Hanway Street November 18 1805.

High on a Throne of state is seen She whom all Hearts own for their Queen. Three Pages are in waiting by; He with the umbrella is her Spy, To spy out rogueries in the dark, And smell a rat as you shall mark.

The Queen here by the King's commands, Who does not like Cook's dirty hands, Makes the court-pastry all herself. Pambo the knave, that roguish elf, Watches each sugary sweet ingredient, And slily thinks of an expedient.

Now first of May does summer bring, How bright and fine is every thing! After their dam the chickens run, The green leaves glitter in the sun, While youths and maids in merry dance Round rustic maypoles do advance.

When Kings and Queens ariding go, Great Lords ride with them for a show With grooms & courtiers, a great store; Some ride behind, & some before. Pambo the first of these does pass, And for more state rides on an Ass.

Thieves! Thieves! holla, you knavish Jack, Cannot the good Queen turn her back, But you must be so nimble hasty To come and steal away her pastry You think you're safe, there's one fees all, And understands, though he's but small

How like a thievish Jack he looks! I wish for my part all the cooks Would come and baste him with a ladle As long as ever they were able, To keep his fingers ends from itching After sweet things in the Queen's kitchen.

Behold the King of Hearts how gruff The monarch stands, how square, how bluff! When our eighth Harry rul'd this land, Just like this King did Harry stand; And just so amorous, sweet, and willing, As this Queen stands, stood Anna Bullen.

The meat removed and dinner done, The knives are wip'd and cheese put on. The King aloud for Tarts does bawl, Tarts, tarts, resound through all the Hall. Pambo with tears denies the Fact, But Mungo saw him in the act.

Behold the due reward of sin, See what a plight rogue Pambo's in. The King lays on his blows so stout, The Tarts for fear come tumbling out O King! be merciful as just, You'll beat poor Pambo into dust

How like he looks to a dog that begs In abject sort upon two legs! Good Mr. Knave, give me my due, I like a tart as well as you, But I would starve on good roast Beef, Ere I would look so like a thief.

The Knave brings back the tarts he stole. The Queen swears, that is not the whole. What should poor Pambo do? hard prest Owns he has eaten up the rest. The King takes back, as lawful debt, Not all, but all that he can get.

Lo! Pambo prostrate on the floor Vows he will be a thief no more. O King your heart no longer harden, You've got the tarts, give him his pardon. The best time to forgive a sinner Is always after a good dinner.

"How say you Sir? tis all a joke-- Great Kings love tarts like other folk!" If for a truth you'll not receive it, Pray, view the picture, and believe it. Sly Pambo too has got a share, And eats it snug behind the chair.

Their Majesties so well have fed, The tarts have got up in their head. "Or may be 'twas the wine!"--hush, gipsey! Great Kings & Queens indeed get tipsey! Now, Pambo, is the time for you: Beat little Tell-Tale black & blue.