The Batchellors Fore-cast,
OR,
Cupid unblest being an Answer to Cupids Trappan or up the Green Forrest.
Though many Zelots do in Love seem holy
Yet be accounts it all to be but folly.
To the Tune of Cupids Trappan.
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ONce did I love and a very pretty Girl,
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Thinking to make her my own,
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Although she did look like the mother of Pearl,
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Yet now am I fledgd and flown brave Boys.
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yet now am I fledgd and flown.
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I wooed her and sued her yet she did deny,
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She answered she would have none,
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The humor of love I defie,
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But now am I fledgd and flown brave Boys,
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I tryd my Art to make her to me sure,
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And still I did call her my own,
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At last shed indure to stoop to the lure,
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But now I am fledgd and flown brave Boys,
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Since she doth so scorn me, with Sack il Adorn me
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I will be out witted by none,
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These feminine creatures are absolute cheaters
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But now am I fledgd and flown brave Boys.
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But since I forsook her, what fancy hath took her
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In the Forest she seeks for her own,
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She hoops & she howls like woodcocks or Owls
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Her bonny Birds fledgd and flown brave Boys
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My humour some Love, I could not approve,
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Her humor was single alone;
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Now I have another that better than tother,
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Her bonny Birds fledgd and flown brave Boys
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ANd now I do here she fain would draw near,
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For now she doth call me her own,
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I care not for that il keep out of her trap,
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Her bonny birds fledgd and flown brave Boys,
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Why should I be tyed her humour to hide.
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Il never be linkt to one;
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Count Maidens and Mauthers twenty to ten,
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Her bonny birds fledgd and flown brave Boys
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I always did wait on my pretty Love Kate,
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Intending my Love for to marry,
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But since she is no better, Im none of her debtor,
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The Devil shall have her for Harry brave Boys.
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I might have had all, and have given her the fall,
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Thers nothing that would me hinder,
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But something that worse Child, Cradle, & Nurse,
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I never would light the tinder brave Boys.
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If any one tar me of falshood in Love.
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And say il prove true to none,
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I puld out my Sickle because she was Fickle,
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Her bonny birds fledgd and flown brave boys,
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If Love hath bewitcht her, what is it to me,
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I wonder blind Cupid would let her,
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Since she is not s[mu]tcht nor her honesty tutcht.
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Why should she betyde in the fetter brave boys,
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So long as she is free, she cares not for me,
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Her Maiden head is her honor,
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If she sing and laugh il merrily quaff,
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And nere spend an idle thought on her brave boys
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If she sing and swagger, il drink till I stagger.
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The humor of Love, I defie it,
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Turn Willow to wine therein I will pine,
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Better live with it, than by it brave boys.
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Im come from the wars without any scars,
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Although I was most in the Action,
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My mony doth chink, and I must have some drink,
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And a pox on this foolish love faction, etc.
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Though I am no Cripple yet well I can Tipple,
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I scorn for to bank my Liquor,
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The Juice of the Grape tasts better than Kate,
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To the Tavern I am a close sticker.
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But yet I advise, lets be merry and wise,
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To shun many future disasters,
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Though young men may find that Maidens are kind
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Yet never let Love be your masters.
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If Id not march off, she at me would scoff,
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Id rather at Sea for to venture,
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If I loose Leg or Arm tis not so much harm,
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As steering out Love to the center, etc.
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Tis better for you to live as you be,
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Then a false hearted maid for to marry,
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Not all the deceit of Bes Sue and Kate,
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Could never Trappan honest Harry.
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