An excellent new SONG, call'd,
The CRAFTY MAID:
OR, THE
Batchellour Outwitted.
BEING
A Relation how a Batchellor was bawk'd, after he had given ten Shillings, and a blew pai[r]
of Stockens, for a Maiden head.
To the Tune of, Fond Boy, etc.
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COme lissen to me, and I will declare,
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A frollicksome Ditty of late I did hear,
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'Tis on a shopkeeper, and I'll tell you plain,
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He's a leatherseller, though I tell not his name:
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This young man is single, and wants to be wed,
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Which makes him lie restless all night in his bed.
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He agered with a maiden that lived hard by,
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For to give her ten shillings with him for to lie;
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Whenever this maiden went out or came in,
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He still would be chucking her under the chin,
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And said, That's not all that I'll give unto you,
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But I'll give you ten shillings and stockens of blew.
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This maid was both cunning and crafty and wise,
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To cheat the shopkeeper she thus did devise,
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The day it seem'd tedious, he long'd for delight,
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That he might enjoy the fair maiden that night:
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But a brisk harnismaker disguised his face,
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And when it was night he went in the maid's place.
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Womens cloaths he put on, and straight went his way
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To bed to the shopkeeper, as I heard say;
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As soon as he entered into the room,
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The candle being out, he said, What are you come?
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He straight gave ten shillings & then said, Prove true,
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And tomorrow I'll give you the stockens of blew.
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The bargain was so, not a word should be said,
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Betwixt the shopkeeper and this pritty maid;
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So this silent couple to bed they did go,
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To those delights that young lovers should do;
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But he was not content when he was in his bed,
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For fear that he should not get her maiden-head.
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Then straightway he whisper'd a word in her ear,
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And said, It is better to do't in a chair.
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The young man burst out of a laughter, and said,
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I pray Sir forbear, for I am not a maid.
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I'll try that, said he; and he pluck'd up the smock,
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And instead of a pullet catch'd hold of a cock.
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Lord, how he was daunted at this strange surprise,
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What to say for himself he could no ways devise:
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His courage was cool'd which before was so hot,
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And he was ashamed to appear in his shop:
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He desir'd the harnismaker for to go,
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And beg'd he would not let the neighbours to know:
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Here's half a crown more, therefore pray do not tell
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The thing that hath hapned, nor where I do dwell.
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And now all you young men that lead single lives,
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Part not with your mony, but be well advis'd,
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For maids are deceitful, and will not prove true,
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Although you do promise them stockens of blew.
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