The broken Contract;
OR,
The Perjured Maiden.
Being
A Relation of a young Maid in Kent, who had promised to Marry a
young Merchant, went afterwards to Marry a Knight, and was
struck Dumb as the Minister was Marrying of her.
Tune of, All Happy Times.
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NEar unto Dover lived late,
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A Maiden most unfortunate,
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The only Child her Father had,
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She broke her vow and now is Dead.
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She was most beautiful and Fair,
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With Rosie Cheeks and cold black Hair,
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She had fine Shapes with comly meen,
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Her Age was not above Fifteen.
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A Merchant young which came on Shore,
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Did spie her at her Father's Door,
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He was amaz'd and gasing stood,
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But had not power to speak one word.
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He went unto a Tavern by,
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Sent for her Father presently,
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And said, kind Sir, 'tis in your Will,
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To save a young Man, or to Kill.
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What is it young Man you would have,
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Your Daughter for a Wife I crave,
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Get her consent, I'll give you mine,
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I thank you Sir, a thousand times.
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The Merchant to the Daughter went,
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And strove to get her free consent.
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At first she seem'd most strange and shie,
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But his kind words made her comply.
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And when that he had won her Heart,
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She freely did her Love impart,
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And vow'd she'd have him out of hand,
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Rather than any Lord o'th' Land.
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When she agreed to Marry him,
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A thousand times he kiss'd her then;
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They in each others Arms did lie,
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Vowing to Marry speedily.
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Valentines Day they pitch'd upon,
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For these two Lovers to make one;
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The youth for London came straight way,
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To buy all things for th' Wedding Day.
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He left with her great store of Gold,
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With Diamonds, Pearls, Riches untold,
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To be a pledge in his Exile,
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But mark what happen'd the mean while.
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While the young Merchant he was gone,
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A Knight with Coach and Six did come,
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With Footmen running by his side,
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This Knight did Court her for his Bride.
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The Maiden thought it brave indeed,
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To be a Lady all with speed;
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The Merchant being out of sight,
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She consented to have the Knight
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They fix'd upon a Day with speed,
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Then went to Church for to be wed;
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Then mark what Judgments fall on some,
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When she would speak she was struck dum[b.]
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But when she to her self did come,
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She cry'd a loud, oh I'm undone:
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Forgive me my dear Merchant now,
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Oh pray forgive my perjur'd Vow.
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She languished a day or two,
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And then this World she bid adieu.
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With this Advice to those unwed,
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To keep their Vows they promised.
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And when the Merchant did return,
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And heard his Love was dead and gone,
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He went on Board to sail the Main,
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And vow'd he'd nere return again
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