The COY
COOK-MAID,
Who was Courted importunately by Irish , Welch , Spanish , French , and Dutch , but at last
was conquered by a poor English Taylor.
Tune of, There was a brisk Lass , etc. This may be printed , R. P,
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JOan scrub'd up her Roomes, made all things clean,
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The Tables, the Chairs, & the edge of the skreen,
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She scour'd each Pispot and Pewter dish,
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Made e'ry thing clean as heart could wish;
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The Pewter and Brass was so very cleer,
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That wanting a Glass, she oft drew near
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To deck up her head and curle her hair,
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Not one amongst twenty with her could compare.
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She made her Plumb-Pottage & sweet-minc'd-Pies,
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The Rost-Beef was laid down when she did rise;
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Dinner was ready, and like'd so well,
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Not one amongst twenty could Joan excell;
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They prais'd her so much that Joan grew proud,
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And then she began to prate aloud,
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I will have a Husband oft she cry'd,
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A pretty young-man to lye by my side.
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Then out stept a Scot with blew Bonnet on,
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He lookt full as big as a Spanish Don;
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His Pistol was under his chequer'd Plade,
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His Whinyard was made of a Bilbo blade:
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Quoth he, bread a gad, the day's mine awn,
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Ise as bonny a fallow as e're was knawn,
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Ise will ha this Lassee before Ise gang heam,
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She'l mack me geud Langkeal to fill my weam.
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He came to salute her, but Joan was mad.
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And call'd the poor Scotch -man a sawcy lad,
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She took up the Ladle and broke his pate,
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And told him he proffer'd his love too late:
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Deel blin you, quoth Sawny , you nasty slut,
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The muckle Deel stop [Hemp] in your gut,
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Ise naw se[e]k Jo[an to by my wife,]
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She'l e'ne [mack me weary of my life,]
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Then a fine French-man took his place,
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His Cravat and Ruffles were all of Lace.
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[S]aid he, Begarr me come to dis place,
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Me be much in love vid your sweet face,
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Me no like no Lady vidin this Town,
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Begarr me no like dem, dey ver much frown;
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Me have seen all, me tink ders's none
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Dat may be compar'd vid Missis Joan .
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Me be resolve to lose my life
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But me vill have Joan to be my Wife:
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Joan look'd about, and then reply'd,
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The Devil shall be the French-mans Bride;
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March to your Portage you sinical Knave,
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I'le ne'r go to France to be your slave;
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Get you out of the Kitchin, or else by Mars
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This swinging Spit shall run through your A----
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Poor Monsieur lookt blank and sneakt away,
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For his Wife nor his life he durst not stay;
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Then enter'd an Irish-man and swore
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The noise of her beauty brought him o're;
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My naam ish Teague , and by my Shalwaashon
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I prize dy faash 'bove all in de Naashon,
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Den preddee dear Joy come kish my shweet faash,
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By Shaint Phaatrick I never will leave dish plaash.
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I have a Potato-plat of my own,
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An a shneeshing-boxh, 'tish very well known;
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I have a schullogue to run by my shide,
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Ifait and trote thou shalt be my Bride.
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Be gone bogg-trotter, then Joan did cry,
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Or the broom-stick shall on your shoulders lie,
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Pack up your Awle, and make short of your story,
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Or I'le make you pay dear for your vain-glory.
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A Seaman from Holland then enter'd the list,
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As drunken a Rascal as ever pist;
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He brought in his hand a bottle of Nans ,
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And swore 'twas the famousest liquor in France ;
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'Twill make you Dutch Spraagen before it be noon,
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Be gone (said she) you drunken Clown,
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I'le pull the blew Rug from off your pate
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If you offer to stay with Joan to prate.
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And then Jack Spaniard began to vaper,
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With a mighty short Cloak and a very long Rapier
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He offer'd his Service and proudly did strut,
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But Joan went and gave him a kick with her foot;
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Ye insolent Dog (quoth she) be gone,
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There's none I hate more than a Spanish Don,
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I mean not to wait upon such a proud sinner
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Whilst he is a pamp'ring his Guts at dinner.
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The Welch-man hearing the rest were gone,
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Resolv'd that he would be with her anon,
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With Leek in his Hat, on St. Taffy 's day
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He came to Joan , and thus he did say:
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Her was a prave shentleman in Wales ,
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Her has a cood land, cots-plutter-a-nails
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Her has a fine Goat, and her makes sheese,
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Was her make her a lady if now her please.
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But Joan protested she hated them all,
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And swore to be at an English mans call;
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She knew their humours and did not doubt
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B ut some or other would chuse her out:
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At last she married a Taylor good lord,
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And he the greazy Frigat did board;
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They both were well pleas'd and kindly agreed,
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And she from the rest of her Suitors was freed.
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FINIS.
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