The Conquer'd Lady:
OR,
The Country Wooing between ROBIN , the rich Far-
mer's Son, and Madam NELLY , a Nobleman's Daughter, as they
met together by chance in the Town of Bath . Tune, The Milking-pale .
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YOung Nelly , my Heart's delight,
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Be loving, and do not slight
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The Proffer I make,
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For Modesty's sake,
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I'll honour thy Beauty bright;
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For, Love, I profess,
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I can do no less,
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Thou hast my Favour won,
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E'er since I see
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Thy Modesty;
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Therefore agree,
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And fancy me,
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For I am a Farmer's Son.
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But I am a Lady gay;
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'Tis very well known I may
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Have M[e]n of Renown,
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In City and Town;
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Then, Robin , without delay,
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Court Bridget or Sue,
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Kate, Nancy or Prue ,
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Their Love will soon be won;
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But don't you dare
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To speak me fair,
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As if I were
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At my last Prayer,
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To Marry a Farmer's Son.
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My Father has a Treasure store,
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Two Hundred a Year and more,
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With Seventy Cows,
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Carts, Harrows and Plows,
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His Age is above Threescore;
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When e'er he shall die,
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The verily I
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Shall have what he has won;
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Then all that's mine,
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Both Land and Kine,
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Shall so[o]n be thine,
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I[f] thou'd incline
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To Marry a Farmer's Son.
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A Fig for your Cows and Corn,
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Your proffered Love I scorn,
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'Tis known very well,
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I am Mistress Nell ,
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And you're but a Bumkin born.
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Well, if it be so,
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Quoth he, I will go,
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I hope no harm is done:
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Farewel, Adieu,
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I hope to wooe
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As good as you,
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And win her too,
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Tho' I am a Farmer's Son.
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Are you in such haste? quoth she,
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Perhaps we may still agree;
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For, Love, I protest
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I was but in jest,
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And therefore sit down by me,
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For thou art the Man,
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That verily can
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Perform what must be done,
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Both straight and tall,
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Large Limbs withal;
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Th erefore I shall
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Be at thy call,
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And Marry a Farmer's Son.
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Sweet Lady believe me now,
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I solemnly swear and vow,
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No Lords in their Lives
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E'er pleasur'd their Wives
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Like Fellows that drives the Plow,
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Our Labour and Pains
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New Vigour regains;
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We don't to Harlots run,
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As Courtiers do,
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I never knew
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A City Beau,
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That could out-do
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A Country Farmer's Son.
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