THE
Coy COOK-MAID,
Who was Courted importunately by Irish,Welch, Spanish, French and Dutch, but at last was conquered by a poor English Taylor.
To the Tune of, There was a brisk Lass, etc. This may be Printed, R.P.
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JOan scrubd up her rooms, made all things clean,
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The tables, the chairs, and the edge of the skreen,
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She scourd each pispot and pewter-dish
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Made ery thing clean as heart could wish;
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The pewter and brass was so very clear,
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That wanting a glass, she oft drew near,
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To deck up her head and curle her hair,
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Not one amongst twenty with her could compare.
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She made her plumb pottage and sweet mincd-pies,
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The rost-beef was laid down when she did rise;
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Dinner was ready, and likd so well,
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Not one amongst twenty could Joan excel;
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They praisd her so much that Joan grew proud,
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And then she began to prate aloud,
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I will have a husband oft she cryd,
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A pretty young-man [t]o lye by my side.
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Then out stept a Scot with blew bonnet on,
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He lookt full as big as a Spanish don
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His pistol was under his chequerd plade,
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His whinyard was made of a Bilbo blade:
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Quoth he, bread a gad, the days mine awn,
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Ise as bonny a fellow as [e]er was knawn,
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Ise will ha this lassee before Ise gang heam,
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Shell mack me geud langkeal to fill my weam.
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He came salute her, but Joan was mad,
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And calld the poor scotch man a sawcy lad,
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She took up t[h]e ladle and broke his p[a]te,
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And told him he profferd his love too late:
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Deel blin you, quoth Sawny, you nasty slut,
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The muckl deel stop hemp in your gut,
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Ise n[a]w seck Joan to be my wife,
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Shell ene mack me weary of my life.
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Then a fine fre[n]ch-man took his place,
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His cravet and ruffles weere all of lace.
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Said he, begar, me comes to dis place,
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Me be much in love vid you[r] sweet face,
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Me no like no lady vidin this town,
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Beg[a]r, me no like dem, dey very much frown;
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Me have seen all, me tink deres none
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Dat may be compard vid mistriss Joan.
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Me be resolve to lose my life
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But me vill have Joan to be my wife:
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Joan lookd about, and then replyd,
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The devil shall be the french-mans bride;
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March to your portage you sinical knave,
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Ill ner go to France to be your slave;
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Get you out of the kitchin, or else by Mars
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This swinging sp[i]t shall run through your a-----
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Poor monsieur lookt blank and sneakt away,
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For his wife [n]or his life he durst not stay;
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Then enterd an irish man and swore
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The noise of her beauty brought him ore;
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My naam ish Teague, and by my shweet faash,
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I prize dy faash bove all in de Naashon[,]
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Den preddee dear joy come kish my shweet faash,
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By shaint Phaatrick I never will leave this plaash.
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I have a potato plat of my own,
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An a shneeshing-boxh, tish very well known;
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I have a schullogue to run by my shide,
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Ifait and [tr]ote thou shalt be my bride.
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Be gone bogg-trotter, then Joan did cry,
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Or the brom stick shall on your shoulders lie,
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Pack up your awle, and make short of your story,
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Or Ill make you pay dear for your vain-glory.
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A seaman from Holland then enterd the list,
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As [d]runken a rascal as ever pist;
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He brought in his hand a bottle of Nans,
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And swore twas the famou[s]est liquor in Franc[e.]
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Twill make you Dutch spraagen b[e]fore it be [noon]
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Be gone (said she) you drunk[e]n clown,
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Ill pull the blew rug from off your pate,
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If you offer to stay with Joan to prate.
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And then Jack Spaniard began to vapour,
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With a mighty short cloak and a very long rap[ier]
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He offerd his service and proudly did strut,
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But Joan went and gave him a kick with her [foot]
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Ye insolent dog (quoth she) be gone,
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Theres none I hate more then a Spanish don,
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I mean not to wait upon such a proud sinner
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Whilst he is pampring his guts at [d]inner.
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The welch-man hearing the rest were gone,
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Resolvd that he would be with her anon,
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With leek in his hat, on St. Taff[y]s day
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He came to Joan, and thus he did say:
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Hur was a brave shentleman in Wales,
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Hur has a food land, cots-plutter-a-nails,
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Hur as a fine goat, and hur makes sheese,
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Was hur makes hur a lad[y] if now hur please[.]
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But Joan protested she hated them all,
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And swore to be at an english mans call;
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She knew their humours and did not doubt
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But same or other would chuse her out:
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At last [s]he married a taylor good lord,
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And he the greazy frigat did board;
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They both were well pleasd and kindly agree[d]
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And she from the rest of her suitors was freed[.]
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