FASTING DAY

O, sweet Doctor Almanac, I have lost a deer old Master, beside Sir, I have been out of service, all this Kersmas; Nobody minds Fasting day, I have scarce been thought upon of Friday nights; And because Kersmas this year fell vpon't, The Fridays have been ever since so proud They scorn my company, the Butchers boys At Templebar, set their great Dogs upon me, I dare not walk abroad, nor be seen yet, The very Poulters Girls throw rotten Eggs at me, Nay Fishstreet loves me, even but from ̄ teeth outward, (The nearest Kin I have) looks shy upon me, As if t'ad forgotten me, I met Plumporridge now, My big-swollen Enemy, he's plump and lusty, The only man in place, sweet Master Doctor, Prefer me to the New-Yeere, you can doo't. Till Lent, you kill my heart, sweet M. Doctor, Thrust me into Candlemas Eve, I do beseech you. Why th'are fat enough. I, he's sure of welcome; me thinks he moves Like one of the great Porridge Tubs, going to the Counter. Why thou whoreson Breakfast, Dinner, Nuntions, Supper and Beaver, Cellar, Hall, Kitchen, and Wet-larder. Would he were gone once, I should be more respected. A Fasting-day? I served him honestly, and cost him little. Those were the Times, sir, That made your Predecessors rich, and able To lay up more for you, and since poor Fasting-dais Were not made reckoning on, the pampered flesh Has played the knave, Maids have had fuller bellies, Those meals that once were saved, have stirred, & leapt, And bègot Bastards, and they must be kept, Better keep Fasting-dais, your self may tell you, And for the profit of purse, back and belly? Well, better late then never. This is my comfort, I shall come to make All the Fat Rogues go to bed supperless, Get dinners where they can.