The City Caper: OR, The WHETSTONES-PARK Privateer.
Being a true relation how a small [...]she Pickaroon lately sail'd from the park, and Crusing abroad in the night, seiz'd on a rich Marchant-man, whom she tempted to board her, and then she disabl'd his Ship, took all his Cargo, spoil'd his Tackle, and burnt his Rudder, &c.
Tune of,
Captain Digby's farewel.
THe
Jenny a small Pickaroon in the Park
Last night went a Crusing abroad in the dark,
Her impudence was her commander in chief,
Her haven is Lust, and her Pilot a Thief:
As swift as a Fish she did glide by the
Strand,
well rig'd, and well trim'd but she lackt to be man'd
In her mouth a whole teer of Damme's there lies,
Granadoes were shot out of her rowling eyes.
The ruffling silk of her Petticoat Sails,
The wind had full blown with it's wantoning gales
that wind which their meeting with contrary wind
Sometiemes doth create hurricanes behind:
Carreen'd and new pained most curiously,
Her upermost Deck did appear to the eye,
The curls of her Tower so like streamers do wave
Men of War to engage her they seem for to brave
But look on her Stem, she is right for the trade,
Her Lading betwixt wind and water was laid,
A Loof, and a Loof and most stedy she steard,
Yet often to alter her courses apear'd,
To Star-board and Lar-board, a baft and before,
She glances an eye and she creeps by the shore,
To look what unconveyed Vessels there came,
That might help to add to her pilfering game.
AT length from her main-top she gladly espies
A merchant-man far a head passing her by,
Or'e fraighted was he, and ready to sinck,
His Hull was so much over-stowed with drink:
She strait makes all Sails she was able, and plies
Her Oars to come up to so welcome a prize,
Though's head was so light, she was lighter then he
And had in an instant brought him by the Lee.
Her mobled hood she turn'd up for a Flag,
Sometimes she shears off & sometimes she doth lag
She hauld him with hums, hut the dulpated Owl,
Would not understand her, unless she fell foul:
At last a salute with a Gun, in she poures,
Your servant she cry'd and he answering yours:
She boldly bore up, and for sometime they ride,
Yard-arm to Yard-arm, and each side by each side.
The battel between them now warmer was grown,
And the grapling Irons were mutually thrown,
She gave him her broad-side of kisses so strong,
There was no hope left of his holding out long:
Yet on her design better colour to lay,
She pretended to tack, as if stearing away,
Then seeming disabled to bear up again,
She offers her self unto him to be tane.
He sees her lye by, and then grows the more bold,
To venture aboard, and to rumidge her hold,
She freely receives him astern and invites,
Him for to taste of her Cabin delights:
From prow unto poop he did grope her all o're,
And finding her Gun to be full Cannon bore,
For his Amunition he swore was as large,
And threatned to give her forthwith a due charge,
She flung off her Glove as a Flag of defiance,
And scorn'd to accept of his terms of complyance,
Come bully, quoth she, I will stand thy fierce shot
For already I've taken full many a knock;
With that below Deck then he thundred in,
And she for to tumble and toss did begin,
As if that a tempest had rocked her pillow,
And danced her vessel aloft on a billow.
A calm then succeedeth this storming her honour,
He soon had unladed his Cargo upon her,
Before hand he gave her his contracted Guinies,
And thought he ne'r sail'd in so pleasant a Pinace,
But quickly that fancy he curst when he found,
How damnable deep she had run him on ground,
For just in the fury and heat of the job,
He ransackt Placket, she rifled his, Fob.
With Watch, Gold, and jewels she slipt out of door
Poor Voyager ne'r was so jilted before,
His Cargo was lost, and his main-mast was torn
His Tackling she spoil'd, and his Rudder did burn
Hence learn you young gallants that venture to see
The danger of such Pickaroons for to flee,
For vessels rich guilded with proud Silken Sails,
Oft Fire ships do prove & bear death in their tails.
Printed for P. Brooksby at the golden ball in Pye-Corner.