Whereupon, back again Whittington came with Speed, A Servant to remain,

As the Lord had decreed.

Still bleffed be the Bells,
This was his daily Song;
This my good Fortune tells,
Moft fweetly have they rung.

If God fo favour me,

I will not prove unkind; London my Love shall see, And my large Bounties find.

But, fee his happy Chance!
This Scullion had a Cat,
Which did his State advance,
And by it Wealth he gat.

His Master ventur'd forth,
To a Land far unknown,
With Merchandise of Worth,
As is in Stories shown:

Whittington had no more

But this poor Cat as then, Which to the Ship he bore. Like a brave valiant Man:

Vent'ring the fame, quoth he,

I
And Mayor of London be,
As the Bells have me told.

may get Store of Gold,

Whittington's Merchandise,
Carried to a Land

Troubled with Rats and Mice,
As they did understand;

The King of the Country there,
As he at Dinner sat,
Daily remain'd in Fear

Of many Mouse and Rat.

Meat that on Trenchers lay,
No way they could keep fafe;
But by Rats bore away,

Fearing no Wand or Staff:

Whereupon, foon they brought
Whittington's nimble Cat;
Which by the King was bought,
Heaps of Gold giv'n for that.

Home again came these Men,
With their Ship laden so,
Whittington's Wealth began
By this Cat thus to grow ;

Scullion's Life he forfook,

To be a Merchant good, And foon began to look

How well his Credit ftood.

After that, he was chose
Sheriff of the City here,
And then full quickly rofe
Higher, as did appear:

For,

For, to the City's Praise,
Sir Richard Whittington
Came to be in his Days

Thrice Mayor of London.

More his Fame to advance,
Thousands he lent the King,
To maintain War in France,
Glory from thence to bring.

And after, at a Feast

Which he the King did make, He burnt the Bonds all in Jest, And would no Money take.

Ten Thousand Pounds he gave
To his Prince willingly;
And would no Penny have
For this kind Courtesy.

As God thus made him great,
So he would daily fee
Poor People fed with Meat,
To fhew his Charity:

Prifoners poor cherish'd were,
Widows fweet Comfort found;
Good Deeds, both far and near,
Of him do ftill refound.

Whittington's College is

One of his Charities; Record reporteth this, To lasting Memories.

Newgate

Newgate he builded fair,
For Prisoners to lye in;
Chrifl-Church he did repair,
Christian Love for to win.

Many more fuch like Deeds Were done by Whittington; Which Joy and Comfort breeds, To fuch as look thereon.

XVII. CUPID's

OR,

REVENGE,

An Account of a King who flighted all Women, and at length was constrain'd to marry a Beggar, who prov'd a Fair and Virtuous Queen.

To the Tune of, I often for my Jenny frove.

Upon the first reading of this Ballad, I took the Story for the Invention of fome Poet, who would not give himself the Trouble of turning History over, to find out a proper Subject; and I had actually laid it afide among ft the fabulous Songs: But upon a Second Review, I found my felf mistaken; at leaft, I have good Reafon to believe my felf fo. And having fince communicated my Thoughts to fome good Fudges, they affur'd me I was in the right; and that the Bal

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