  Sam Gooseberry’s Account of the wonderful Things of the Fair. WHY there is such a mobbing at the other side of the fair, says Sam, as you never saw in your life, and one fat fellow has got among them that has made me laugh immoderately—Stand further, good folks, says he, what a mob is here! Who raked all this filthy crowd together? Honest friend, take away your elbow. What a beastly crew am I got among! What a smell! Oh, and such squeezing. Why, you overgrown sloven, says a footman, that stood by, who makes half so much noise and crowding as you? reduce your own fat paunch to a reasonable compass, sirrah, and there will be room enough for us all. Upon this, the whole company set up a shout, and crowding around my friend Tunbelly, so left an opening, through which I made my escape, and have brought off Dick Wilson with me, who, by being heartily squeezed, and having twelve of his ten toes trod off, is now cured of his impertinent curiosity. But you desire an account of the fair, and I mean to gratify you. The first thing I saw which gave me pleasure, was old Gaffer Gingerbread’s stall.—See him, see Here’s gingerbread, gingerbread here of the best. Come buy all I have, and I’ll give you the rest. The man of the world for gingerbread. What do you buy, what do you buy? says the old gentleman; please to buy a gingerbread wife, sir; here’s a very delicate one. Indeed there is too much gold on the nose; but that is no objection to those who drive Smithfield bargains, and marry their wives by weight. Will you please to have a gingerbread husband, madam; I assure you, you may have a worse; or a watch, madam; here are watches for belles, beaux, bucks, and blockheads. But here comes Master Punch. See, there he is, with his hunch at his back. The crowd that came with him obliged us to leave the place: but just as we were going, Giles called out, Gentlemen, buy a house before you go. ’Tis better to buy than to build. You have heard of the Cock that crowed in the morn, that waked the Priest all shaven and shorn, that married the Man all tattered and torn, that kissed the Maiden all forlorn, that milked the Cow with the crumpled horn, that tossed the Dog, that worried the Cat, that killed the Rat, that ate the Malt, that lay in the House that Jack built. If there is any part you do not like, you may eat it; buy, gentlemen, buy, and don’t build. Many of my friends have ruined themselves by building. The insufferable folly of building a fine house, has obliged many a man to lie in the street. Observe what the poet says on the subject: The man who builds the finest place, And cannot for it pay, Is sure to feel his wretched case, While others in it lay. A little further we saw one with the Wheel of Fortune before him, playing with children for oranges. What do you say? Twenty may play as well as one. Ay, and all may lose I suppose. Go away, sirrah, what, do you teach, children to game!—Gaming is a scandalous practice. The gamester, the liar, the thief, and the pickpocket, are first cousins, and ought all to be turned out of company. At this instant up came Dick Sadbury, crying. And what do you think he cries for? Why he has been at the gaming table, or in other words at the Wheel of Fortune, and lost all the money that was given him by his father and mother, and the fairings that he received from Mr. Long, Mr. Williams, and Mrs. Goodenough. At first he won an orange, put it into his pocket, and was pleased; and then he won a knife, whipt it up, and was happy; after this he won many other things, till at last Fortune turned against him, as at one time or other she always does against those that come to her wheel and seek her favours, and he was choused out of all his money, and brought nothing away but a half-penny jew’s-harp. Why do you bellow so, you monkey? Go away, and learn more sense for the future. Would you be wealthy, honest Dick, Ne’er seek success at Fortune’s Wheel; For she does all her votaries trick, And you’ll her disappointment feel. For wealth, in virtue put your trust, Be faithful, vigilant, and just. Never game, or if you do, never play for money. Avoid a gamester as you would a mad dog, or as a wolf that comes to devour you. Hey day! who comes here? O, this is the Mountebank. He talks of curing every sore, But makes you twice as many more. But hear him! hear his speech, and observe the Merry Andrew. The Doctor’s Speech.Gentlemen and Ladies, I am the doctor of all doctors, the great doctor of doctors, who can doctor you all. I ease your pains gratis, cure you for nothing, and sell you my packets that you may never be sick again. (Enter Andrew blowing on a scrubbing-broom.) Sirrah, where have you been this morning? Andrew. Been, sir! why I have been on my travels, sir, with my knife, sir; I have travelled round this great apple. Besides this, I have travelled through the fair, sir, and bought all these gingerbread books at a man’s stall, who sells learning by weight and measure, arithmetic by the gross, geometry by the square, and physic and philosophy by the pound. So I bought the philosophy: and left the physic for you, master. Doctor. Why, sirrah, do you never take physic? Andrew. Yes, master, sometimes. Doctor. What sort do you take? Andrew. Any sort, no matter what; ’tis all one to me. Doctor. And how do you take it? Andrew. Why I take it—I take it—and put it upon a shelf: and if I don’t get well, I take it down again, and work it off with good strong ale. But you shall hear me read in my golden books, master. He that can dance with a bag at his back, Need swallow no physic, for none he doth lack, He who is healthy, and cheerful, and cool, Yet squanders his money on physic’s a fool. Fool, master, fool, master, fool, fool. Doctor. Sirrah, you blockhead. I’ll break your head. Andrew. What, for reading my book, sir? Doctor. No; for your impudence, puppy. But come, good people, throw up your handkerchiefs, you lose time by attending to that blundering booby; and by and by you’ll be in a hurry, and we shall not be able to serve you. Consider, gentlemen and ladies, in one of these packets is deposited a curious gold ring, which the purchaser, whoever he may happen to be, will have for a shilling, together with all the packet of medicines; and every other adventurer will have a packet for one shilling, which he may sell for ten times that sum. Andrew. Master, master, I’ll tell you how to get this ring, and a great deal of money into the bargain. Doctor. How, sirrah? Andrew. Why, buy up all of them yourself, and you will be sure of the ring, and have the packets to sell for ten shillings a-piece. Doctor. That’s true; but you are covetous, sirrah: you are covetous, and want to get money. Andrew. And, master, I believe you don’t want to get physic. Doctor. Yes I do. Andrew. Then ’tis to get rid of it. But, He that can dance with a bag at his back, Need swallow no physic, for none he doth lack. Huzza, halloo boys, halloo boys, halloo. |
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