Miss Dolly Trull

Miss Dolly Trull
By PIERCE EGAN in Captain Macheath.


  Of all the mots in this here jug, 1 women; prison
    There’s none like saucy Dolly;
  And but to view her dimber mug 2 pretty face
    Is e’er excuse for folly.
  She runs such precious cranky rigs
    With pinching wedge and lockets 3 stealing plate
  Yet she’s the toast of all the prigs
    Though stealing hearts and pockets.


  Just twig Miss Dolly at a hop— 4 see; dance
    She tries to come the graces! 5 act
  To gain her end she will not stop
    And all the swells she chases.
  She ogles, nods, and patters flash 6 talks slang
    To ev’ry flatty cully 7 susceptible fellow
  Until she frisks him, at a splash 8 robs; entirely
    Of rhino, wedge, and tully. 9 money


See Note to “Sonnets for The Fancy” p. 225. Captain Macheath was one of Egan’s latest, and by no means one of his best, productions. It is now very scarce.

Taken from Musa Pedestris, Three Centuries of Canting Songs and Slang Rhymes [1536―1896], collected and annotated by John S. Farmer.

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. . .
The House Breaker’s Song
The Faking Boy To The Crap Is Gone
The Nutty Blowen
The Faker’s New Toast
My Mother
The High-Pad’s Frolic
The Dashy, Splashy.... Little Stringer
The Bould Yeoman
The Bridle-Cull and his little Pop-Gun
Jack Flashman
Miss Dolly Trull
The By-Blow Of The Jug
The Cadger’s Ball
Dear Bill, This Stone-Jug
The Leary Man
A Hundred Stretches Hence
The Chickaleary Cove
Blooming Æsthetic
’Arry at a Political Picnic
Rum Coves that Relieve us
Villon’s Good-Night
. . .