Close ×

Search EBBA

Advanced Search

EBBA 30046

British Library - Roxburghe
Ballad XSLT Template
Constant, faire, and fine Betty.
Being
The Young-mans praise, of a curious Creature.
Faire shee was, and faire indeed,
And constant alwayes did proceed.
To the Tune of, Peggy went over Sea, with a Souldier.

NOw of my sweet Bettie,
I must speake in praise,
I never did see
such a Lasse in my days,
She is kind and loving,
and constant to me;
Wherefore I will speake,
of my pretty Betty.

Betty is comely,
and Betty is kind,
Besides shee is pretty,
and pleaseth my mind:
She is a brave bonny Lasse,
lovely and free,
The best that ere was,
is my pretty Betty.

Her haire it doth glister,
like to threeds of gold;
All those that doe meet her,
admire to behold:
Her they take for Juno,
so glorious seemes shee,
More brighter then Lun
is pretty Betty.

Her eyes they do twinkle,
like starres in the skie,
She is without wrinkle,
her fore-head is high:

Faire Venus for beauty,
the like cannot be,
Thus I shew my duty,
to pretty Betty.

She hath fine cherry cheekes,
and sweet Corall lips,
There is many one seekes,
love with kisses and clips,
But she like Diana,
flies their company,
She is my Tytana,
my pretty Bettie.

Her Chinne it is dimpled,
her visage is faire,
She is finely templed,
she is neat and rare.
If Hellen were living,
she could not please me,
I joy in praise giving,
my pretty Betty.

Her skinne white as snow,
her brest soft as doune,
All her parts below,
they are all firme and sound:
Shees chaste in affection
as Penelope.
Thus endes the complexion,
of pretty Bettie.

The second part, To the same tune.

NOw of her conditions,
something Ile declare,
For some have suspitions,
Shes false being faire:
But shees not false hearted,
in any degree,
Im glad I consorted,
with pretty Betty.

Her words and her actions,
they are all as one,
And all her affection,
is on me alone,
She hates such as vary,
from true constancy,
Long I must not tarry,
from pretty Betty.

Well met my sweet Hony,
my joy and delight,
O how hath my Cony
done ere since last night.
Oh what saies my dearest,
what saist thou to me,
Of all maids the rarest,
is pretty Bette.

Wo. Kind love thou art welcome,
to me day and night,
Why came you not home,
I did long for your sight:
My joy and my pleasure,
is onely in thee,
Thou art all the treasure,
of pretty Bette.

Hadst thou not come quickly,
I thinke I should dye,
For I was growne sickly,
and did not know why.
Now thou art my doctor,
and physicke to me,
In love thou art proctor,
for pretty Bette.

Sweet when shall we marry,
and lodge in one bed,
Long I cannot carry,
not my maiden head.
And theres none shall have the same,
but onely thee,
Tis thee that I crave,
to love pretty Bette.

Man. Besse be thou contented,
weel quickly be wed,
Our friends are consented,
to all hath bin sed,
Thou shalt be my wife,
ere much older I be,
And Ile lead my life,
with my pretty Bette.

These lovers were married,
and immediately,
And all was well carried,
they livd lovingly:
Let faire maids prove constant,
like pretty Besse,
Fine Besse hath the praise ant,
and worthy is shee.


FINIS. R.C.
London Printed for John Wright the yonger dwelling at the upper
end of the Old-Baily.

View Raw XML