Love without Measure; OR, The Young Man's Delight, and the Maidens Joy. This young Man woo'd a Damosel fair, And called her his Joy and Dear, But she was coy, as Maids will be, And said he came with Flattery: But he did protect it was not so, And at last brought her unto his bow: Now they live in Love, in Peace, and Joy, And she very fain would have a Boy. To a rare new Tune, called, Du-Val's Delight, etc.
|
LAte in the Country as I was walking,
|
Viewing the Meadows so fresh and green
|
There I was aware of two Lovers a talking,
|
Under a bush, but could hardly be seen;
|
I laid me down and I listen'd a while,
|
To hear if the Man could the Maiden begulie:
|
But the Maid she was crafty, witty & loyal,
|
Altho' many times he put her to th' tryal
|
And in the conclusion thus he did her wooe:
|
My dear Love, my Joy, and my Honey,
|
No tongue can express how dear I love thee,
|
Thou shalt never want for love nor mony,
|
If thou wilt but set thy affection on me,
|
For all the fair Beauties that ever I saw,
|
I still must submit and yield to thy law;
|
Then unto [t]hy dearest Friend be not so cruel,
|
For thou art my comfort, my joy, & my jewel,
|
And so I shall count thee until I dye.
|
Maid.
|
The Damosel unto him straightway reply'd,
|
Is it for this you hither me brought?
|
Your suit at this time it must be deny'd,
|
I am not a bird that's so easily caught:
|
For Marriage I see is a costly name;
|
Besides (quoth she) i'm too young to marry,
|
This seven years I may very well tarry;
|
For sorrow & troubles come fast enough on.
|
A Maiden (quod she) knows but little sorrow,
|
Before that in wedlock band she is ty'd:
|
She has very little to buy or to borrow,
|
& many times meets with a cross Man beside:
|
Which is the worst grief a Woman can have,
|
She'd better to be set quick in her Grave,
|
Than to have a man that is pevish & froward,
|
For Men now a days do prove so untoward,
|
'Tis hard for a Maiden in them to put trust
|
Man.
|
These words my dearest that you have spoken
|
Pierces the tender sick heart of mine,
|
Oh let true love by you be known,
|
Tho' I am the Bark, and you are the Vine,
|
Altho' I am poor, and thou art rich,
|
Slight me not I thee beseech:
|
No Woman yet that ever was gained,
|
Shall be more brave and better maintained:
|
What I speak to thee I will perform.
|
You say that marriage is a hard matter,
|
And those that are single live best at ease;
|
But with you I do scorn to cog or yet flatter,
|
I will speak my mind then say what you please,
|
She that is single I know she'd be wed,
|
For it is an honour to obtain Marriage=bed,
|
Therefore my dearest do not abhor me,
|
Thy mother did yield to a man before thee,
|
Then why wilt thou not do as she has done?
|
Maid.
|
What tho' my Mother did make adventure,
|
It was a great hazard the which she did run,
|
She had her fortune which God he had sent her,
|
And he unto her provd a right honest Man:
|
But such now a days are hard for to find,
|
Men can so dissemble and turn with the wind,
|
They'll speak a Maid fair & vow they love her:
|
So i'm resolved a Maiden to dye.
|
Some Men now a days have sweethearts adozen,
|
And in the conclusion they'll marry with none,
|
They make it their trade poor Girls to cozen,
|
For ought I know you may be such a one:
|
Your tongue is so tipt & your words are so fair,
|
Your countenance plainly shews what you are;
|
That you have been trading with Girls i'th' City
|
And wrong'd many Maids, the more is the pitty,
|
If you be a Batchellor I am mista'en.
|
Man.
|
Oh! you're mistaken much in this matter,
|
The words you speak I know you can't prove,
|
But with you I do scorn is cog or yet flatter,
|
Nor never did try if any could love,
|
But any but thee I vow and do swear,
|
Then prithee be merry and cast away care:
|
Be not so fickle, but look on me blithly,
|
For I am a Lad that is lusty and lively.
|
I'll hug thee and kiss thee ten times of a night,
|
I'll promise no riches nor yet no great treasure,
|
But all that I have thou shalt it command,
|
Altho' i've but little my love's beyond measure,
|
Then prithee dear grant me thy heart & hand:
|
Then why should we make any longer delay,
|
But unto the Church now let us away;
|
The Bride Men and Maids they for us do tarry
|
Therefore my dear tell me when thou'lt marry,
|
If I go without thee I surely shall die.
|
Maid.
|
If that I thought you did not dissemble,
|
I quickly should yield to what you request,
|
But Mens tongues I see can run so nimble,
|
'Tis hard to trust, and I do protest;
|
They can so cologue, both flatter and lie,
|
With fair pretences a Maiden to try,
|
They'l kiss them & hug them until they've won 'em
|
And then they't forsake 'em when they've undon 'em
|
So 'tis good to be careful who they do trust
|
Man.
|
My fairest and dearest if e're I forsake thee,
|
I wish that nothing may ever thrive with me.
|
Come wealth or woe, no sorrow shall make me,
|
Or cause me once to prove disloyal to thee:
|
Then prithee look chaerful, & take a sweet kiss,
|
In token of love, no harm is in this;
|
Let not fickle Fortune no longer you hinder,
|
From a good motion to keep us asunder,
|
But let our hearts be joyned in one.
|
The Maiden she hearing what he had spoken,
|
She had no power to [sa]y him nay,
|
But gave him a kiss in love as a token,
|
As he unto Church should take her away,
|
Where they was Married I after did hear;
|
Now she calls him honey, he calls her dear,
|
Tho' long, at last this young man did gain her,
|
Now in civil habit he bravely maintains her,
|
Let this be a Pattern for Lovers so true.
|
|
|
|
|
|