The Disdainful Damosel,
Or, The Coy Lass serv'd in her Kind.
To the Tune of, Ise often for my Jenny strove, etc.
Licensed according to Order.
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I.
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NOw fifteen years are gone and past,
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Bedded, Wedded, I ne'r was;
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Which makes me sigh and grieve, to see
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How Fortune is unkind to me:
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Oh! had I not then been so Coy,
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By this I might have had a Boy:
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When said my dear Billy, Philly, will ye
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Go and Wedded be with me?
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II.
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But I, forsooth, must be so Nice,
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Fleering, jeering Paradice;
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With's Cap in hand, and low Congee,
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He kindly comes to Salute me:
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Says he, you are my whole Delight,
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I'll pleasure thee both day and night:
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Then my dear Philly, Dilly, will ye
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Go and Wedded be with me?
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III.
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Thus often he express'd his mind,
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Proudly, shrewdly, in this kind,
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With Mouth twist up, and bended Brows;
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What! do you think I'll you Espouse?
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No, foolish Lout, be gone from me,
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Know, I disdain thy Company:
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No more cry, my Philly, Dilly, will ye;
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For I am not one for thee.
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IV.
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This put him into such a fume,
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Bouncing, flouncing o'th' Room;
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Away he went with full Carreer,
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And swore he'd never more come here.
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On second thoughts this vex'd me so,
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I'll vow I'll never more say No:
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Then come again Billy, Philly, Dilly,
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says she I'll go along with thee.
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Mother.
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Why Daughter, I did much rejoyce,
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To see, you be, for a Choice
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Which pleasing may be to your Friends;
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For such a one will make amends:
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But stay a while, I you exhort,
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For otherwise 'twill do you hurt:
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Child, be not unruly, truly, you'll be
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Young enough at Twenty-three.
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VI.
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Daughter.
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Oh Heavens! forget, I'm sure you can't,
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Mother, smother the Truth I shan't,
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Before Fifteen was hardly come,
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Your Maiden-head was not your own:
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Then why mayn't I as well as you,
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Now follow that Example too:
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Come then again Billy, Philly, Dilly,
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Says she I'll Wedded be with thee.
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VII.
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Mother.
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What, is your Maiden-head a Clog?
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Doating, floating, my little Rogue;
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Pish, mind no more such foolish Toys
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Wedlock's not for Girls and Boys:
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If you'll be Marry'd, stay your time,
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Go mind your Book, and don't repine:
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Then be not unruly, truly, you'll be
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Young enough at Twenty-three.
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VIII.
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Daughter.
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Why, Mother, what mean you by this?
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Phanny, Nanny, and Cozen Priss,
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Are Married all you can't deny,
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And none of these so Old as I:
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Tell me no more then of my Book,
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I'll Wedded be by Hook or Crook:
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Then come again Billy, Philly, Dilly
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Says she I'll Wedded be with thee.
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IX.
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But Billy he is grown as stout,
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Slights her, frights her with a Pout:
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When he was willing she was not,
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So he serves her quit for quot.
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Thus Maidens, may you see the Fate
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Of those that do repeat too late:
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Then be not like silly, Philly, Dilly,
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Left yours may be her Destiny.
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FINIS.
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