The Crafty Maids Approbation.
Wherein she shows either Black or Brown,
Tis Money makes them straight go down;
When pritty Girls that Gold has none,
Their fortune is still to lye alone.
To the Tune of, A fig for France.
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DRaw near to me young Girls so fine,
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Whose means and portions like to mine;
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If youl but hear what I have pend,
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Twill make you smile before I end:
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I once had Sweet-hearts fair and young,
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Tho now from me hes fled and gone;
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But ile tell you a very good reason why,
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Twas money did part my Love and I.
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When first to me a Wooing he came,
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He did desire to know my name;
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I told him that my means was small,
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He said he valued none at all:
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So that my favour he could win,
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He valued nothing else a pin:
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But now hes gone and I know not why,
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Twas mony, etc.
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Yet for three years his Love stood fast,
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And he vowd for ever it should last;
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But when my friends spoke of the same,
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Then he was for another Dame:
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Except so much money theyd give me,
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No wife for him I must not be:
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His words he clearly did deny,
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So money did part, etc.
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Thus maids may see, so may I too,
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It is for money young men Wooe:
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Tho great store of Love they do pretend,
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Yet mark what falls out in the end:
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When they find your Portions are but small,
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Like to a Snake from you theyl crawl:
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And to another streight theyl hye,
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So money did part, etc.
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If I had a head like a Horse,
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Or a body as thick as a Mill-post,
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So bags came but tumbling in,
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Then my favour every fool woud win;
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Or was I long-snouted like a Sow,
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Or else Crook-backt like our fine Cow:
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Have at her then, these boys would cry,
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Shes money enough, and what care I.
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Young-men dont blush, you know tis true,
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For let her name be Mary or Sue,
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Tho she was blabber-lipt, also blear-eyd,
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Yet money all those faults will hide;
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Nay, were she the nastiest dingiest slut,
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That a man durst not after her crack a Nut;
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Had she but money, house, or Land,
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Im sure she would not stick long a hand.
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Yet we whose portions are but small,
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Let us not be dismaid at all;
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Neither let us grieve, lament, nor swound,
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For Beautys worth a thousand pound:
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Hangt, though my first true Love be gone,
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Ive the same face for another man;
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And ile prove honest till I dye,
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Tho money, etc.
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If two young-men talk of a Wench,
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As they do sit of an ale-bench;
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Shes a good Huswife, the one replyes,
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But has she money, the other cries:
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If she has none shes not for me,
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Giveme the Cash, hang Huswifery,
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I love to finger that, for why,
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Tis money did part my Love and I.
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By this young Girls may plainly see,
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How deceitful these young-men be;
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Theyl search a Maid from top to toe,
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Till all her secrets they do know;
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Then if her means dont please his mind,
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He quickly can turn like the wind:
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I must have a wife with more, hel cry,
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So money, etc.
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Such affection did that young-man bear,
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That he often called me his dear;
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Such vows and Oaths he made, tis known,
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But now he doth them quite disown:
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But since hes gone, sing farewel he,
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Ile slight him more then he does me:
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Ile ner lament, nor weep, nor cry,
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Tho money, etc.
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I am full glad we parted in truth,
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For since I hear hes a cross-graind youth;
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But had he provd true, though ner so bare,
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In wealth or woe ide bear a share;
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But now im free, ile let that slide,
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And ner think more to be a Bride:
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Theres nothing like to Liberty,
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Since money, etc.
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Thus have I told young Maidens all,
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How the weakest go to the Wall;
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But she that is full, and her Purse well strung,
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She shall have Sweet-hearts come ding dong:
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Its no matter for breeding or sense,
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So she has but Cash, hel have the Wench;
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Black or brown he looks not oth dye,
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Twas money did part my Love and I.
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