Broadside ballad entitled 'The Week After the Fair'

Transcription

THE WEEK AFTER THE FAIR.

Oh! John, what's this you've done, John,
You're head this morn's sair,
You're rigs ye've carried on, John,
The hale week o' the Fair.
It's now you're in the horrors, John,
And in them you may be,
This day I cou'dna help ye, John,
Although ye were to dee.

Our bawbees area' dune, John,
Our claise are in the pawn,
You'll pay for your weeks fun, John,
Yes?ye may grunt and groan;
There's no a change-house in the place
But what you ha'e been through,
Wi' them ye left your sil'er, John,
See if they'll pity you.

Oh! yoursel' this morning, John,
It's now what do you think?
The very sark frae aff your back,
Ye have sel't it for drink:
When ye were on the spree, John,
Ye'd little thought o' me,
Wi' her ye spent your money, John,
Now?ye may gang for me.

Ye' gang and see the Shows, John,
Alang wi' dandy Kate,
An' leave me starvin' in the house,
Baith wantin' fire an meat;
Your race is nearly run, John,
Your sporting days are bye,
You're vex'd for what you've done, John
And really so may I.

Oh! Meg, Oh! Meg, be easy, Meg,
Ye drank as well as me,
Wha was it tore your gown, Meg?
Wha gied ye the black e'e?
Oh dinna gar me speak, Meg,
Or I will tell you mair;
I ken the rigs ye carried on
The hale week o' the Fair.

Whar is our cups and flats, Meg?
Whar is our pat an' pan?
Wha pawn'd the blakkets aff the bed?
Now tell me if you can-
To treat your dandy weaver, Meg,
You've stript the house quite bare;
Ye've no been twa nights in your bed,
The hale time o' the Fair.

Wha was it bred the row, Meg.
At the Bell-o'-the-Brae;
Wha was it to the office, Me,
That burl'd ye away?
When ye were in a habble, Meg,
Wha was it paid the fee!
Ye might ha'e been in Bridewell, Meg,
Had it no been for me.

To cure me of the horrors, Meg,
Anither gill fetch in.
An' then till New-year's-day, Meg,
We'll baith put in the pin;
I maun confess?owre lang, Meg,
We've carried on the spree,
We've baith been wrang, we'll try, Meg,
If better we can be.

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