Broadside concerning a speech by John Curry

Transcription

The Speech OF John Curry,
To be delivered on the Tron l0th Apr. 1728.

A'ltho my Lug's nail'd, to the Tron,            
Yet I am not Tongue tacked John;         
I'l speak, tho'all the Bank look on,
And call me Rogue;
I have not been an idle dron,
but Clever dog.

In Manufacturing ev'ry Noat,
I did lay down, this Solid plot,
For to grow great: and I have got,
what I design'd
My Servant, with a Livery Coat,
Who walks behind

Surrounded, by my body Guards,
I'm far above, the rank of Lairds,      
Beter forge Bills, than play at Cards,
or yet at dice
You see, the Law gives fine rewards,
To actions nice

Before my noble parts were known;
I walk'd demurely all alone,
And no Man said, how do ye John,
upon the Street;
But now, ther's hundreds Looking on,
my Fames compleat

The times are very bad, you know
The want of cash keeps people low,
Folk every day to th' Abbay goe,
weep for their loss
But at mid-day, my face I show,
from Tron to Cross

But I must Forriegn Couotry's see,
(The Goverment's been kind to me,)
For this poor soil, doth not agree,
with my big Heart
I'll Travel far until I be,
Compleat in art.

Knock down, that Scoundrel rogue doth seen,
says, I stand like a poinded Mare,
And that I dare not for my ear,
Stir from this place;
And that no greatness doth appear,   
But deep disgrace

It's only Rogue's that run away,
But Men like me, dare firmly Stay,
Here I can talk, in good brod Day,
I think that's right,
The Nail doth fix my head, I say,
that's realy Light.

Bad Weather soe hath spoil'd the road,
It's seldom that I come abroad,
For only twice, this Month I trod
To take the air;
And the last time, tho' cold, that's odd
my body bare.

Sirs tell me did yow ever see?
A better temper'd Man than me
My page hath ty'd me, to this tree,
By way of sport;
And I get all the taunts but he,
Gets money for't

Wednesday last he did begin,
The play, and now his Hands gone in
For to chastise me, for my sin,
With taes right teugh
And yet the more he lash'd, my Skin:
The more I leugh

And the Diversion's very bonny,
Put hand in purse, and Lug out Money;
For yow have lost, your Player Tonny,
He's boughted now
And I am sent, his faithful Cronny,
To act to yow.

Finis.   

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