Like a vulgar Common-Councilman, one of the present time.
His wife so fine was hung about with feathers, lace, and bows,
Contrived by city milliners, whose fashions no one knows,
And though she dropped her H’s, yet she wore expensive clothes,
And “wot’s the hodds,” she oft would say, “which way the money goes?”
Of this fine old Common-Councilman, all of the present time.
And when the Queen was to be seen he rushed into Guildhall,
And took his wife, and his wife’s aunt, and daughters, sons, and all.
And swore and push’d, perspired and crush’d, and fought his way about,
And showed his wife Prince Halbert, when desired to ‘pint him hout,’