Volume 5 — The Town-Rakes, A Song: Set by Mr. Daniel Purcell: Sung by Mr. Edwards.
Reading edition
[Listen]
WHat Life can compare with the jolly Town Rakes, When in his full swing of all Pleasure he takes? At Noon he gets up for a wet and to Dine, And Wings the swift Hours with Mirth, Musick, and Wine, Then jogs to the Play-house and chats with the Masques, And thence to the Rose where he takes his three Flasks, There great as a Cæsar he revels when drunk, And scours all he meets as he reels, as he reels to his Punk, And finds the dear Girl in his Arms when he wakes, What Life can compare to the jolly Town-Rakes, the Jolly Town-Rakes. He like the Great Turk has his favourite She, But the Town’s his Seraglio, and still he lives free; Sometimes she’s a Lady, but as he must range, Black Betty, or Oyster Moll serve for a Change: As he varies his Sports his whole Life is a Feast, He thinks him that is soberest is most like a Beast: All Houses of Pleasure, breaks Windows and Doors, Kicks Bullies and Cullies, then lies with their Whores: Rare work for the Surgeon and Midwife he makes, What Life can Compare with the jolly Town-Rakes. Thus in Covent-Garden he makes his Campaigns, And no Coffee-House haunts but to settle his Brains; He laughs at dry Mortals, and never does think, Unless ’tis to get the best Wenches and Drink: He dwells in a Tavern, and lives ev’ry where, And improving his Hour, lives an age in a Year: For as Life is uncertain, he loves to make haste, And thus he lives longest because he lives fast: Then leaps in the Dark, and his Exit he makes, What Death can compare with the jolly Town-Rakes.
