THE
Beautiful Barkeshire Damsel
That was Courted by a
Gallant Young Squire;
Giving an Account how he deluded her into the Fields, thinking there by
Force, to have obtain'd his Will. Shewing likewise how she overcame
him, and stuck him to the Ground with his own Sword, etc.
Tune of, All happy Times, etc. Licensed according to Order.
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THere was a Damsel young and fair,
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that lived lately in Barkeshire,
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Within three Miles of Reding Town,
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whose Beauty bore a great Renown.
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In Service there now lived she
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with a Justice there of high Degree,
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So sweet she did herself behave,
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that oft great Praise to her he gave:
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And many a Gallant thither came,
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they hearing of this Virgins Fame;
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But when that they once did her see,
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none of their hearts from love were free
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They Woo'd and Sude her every Day,
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thinking her Heart for to betray,
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With costly Presents which they made;
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but none this Damsel could invade.
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At length there came a gallant Squire,
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that had Five Thousand Pounds a Year;
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He swore that all to her he'd give,
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if she would yield with him to live.
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But all his Profers were in vain;
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this Damsel shew'd him great Disdain.
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The greatest Lord that are was born,
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to be his Whore (quoth she) I scorn.
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But now at length they did agree,
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abroad to go most lovingly:
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The Damsel thinking little harm,
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whilst Envy in his Breast lay warm.
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Well now, quoth he, it is in vain,
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for you to show your great Disdain;
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Thy Beauty great my Heart doth kill,
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'till I obtain of thee my Will.
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Which Bliss if you to me will grant,
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no chostly Riches you shall want;
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If not, by force I will thee make,
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and then thy Life will from thee take.
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Then straight she fell down on her Knee,
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and weeping cry'd, Sir pitty me:
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Before i'll yeild i'll loose my Life,
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untill you make of me your Wife.
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Then in his Arms he took this Maid,
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and on the Ground, by force, her laid,
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And often strove to have his Will,
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but yet it was beyond his Skill.
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She striving long, at length got free,
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then catch'd his Sword immediately,
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And stuck him fast unto the Ground,
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which prov'd a sad and grievious Wound
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Then trembling sore, she home did speed,
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and told her Master of the Deed,
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Then crying said against my Will,
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the Gallant Squire I did Kill.
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Then Men he sent, who fetc'd him home,
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& Surgeons straight did dress his wound,
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Who in small time these tidings gave,
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that they did hope his Life to save.
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Quoth he, If God do save my Life,
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that Damsel fair shall be my Wife,
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Who gave this Wound and Cruel smart,
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for why, I love her at my Heart.
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Then to the Surgeon straight he said,
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Oh! let me see that Virtuous Maid;
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Without her sight I cannot be,
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'tis she alone can cure me.
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