EDWIN'S PILLS, &c, SONG

Since Kathleen has prov'd so untrue, Poor Darby, ah, what can you do? No longer I'll stay here a clown, But sell off and gallop to town: I'll dress, and I'll strut with an air, The barber shall frizzle my hair.

In town I shall cut a great dash; But how for to compass the cash! At gaming, perhaps, I may win; With cards I can take the flats in; Or trundle false dice, and they're nick'd; If found out, I shall only be kick'd.

But first to get a great name, A duel establish my fame, To my man then a challenge I'll write; But first I'll be sure he won't fight, We'll swear not to part 'till we fall, Then shoot with our powder, and the devil a ball.