Page:Weather beaten soger, or, The burgo-master of Venice.pdf/2

( 2 ) THE WEATHER-BEATEN SOGER.

PART I.

HERE, you may ſee the turns of fate, From woo to joy, from poor to great; A mark of Fortune's ſpecial love, Who did a ſoldiers grief remove. One who in former days, 'tis told, Had trudg'd through weather hot and cold, 'Till he was poor and pennyleſs, You would have laugh'd to've ſeen the dreſs. His ſhoes with trudging up and down, No ſole they had; a hat no crown; His coat no ſleeves, his ſhirt the ſame, But by his ſide a ſworl of ſame. Without a ſcabbard good or bad, Nor was there any to be had; His coat had breeches would not come, In depth to cover half his bum. Now being weary of his trade; One day he to his Captain ſaid, Pray now give me a full diſcharge, That I my fortune may enlarge. I am perſuaded I ſhall be, A burgo-maſter, Sir, ſaid he, To Venice, if you'll let me go His Captain ſmiling, anſwer'd, No. With you, ſaid he, I will not part. Then, thought the ſoldier, I'll deſert, My colours, let what will befal: And ſoon he went for good and all. Now as he march'd with all his might, A coachman and his worthy knight,