THE
Witty Maid of the West;
OR,
The Miller well thrashd by Robin the Plowman:
For which Service he received a Sum of Money, which bought a Ring and paid for the Marriage be-
twixt him and his beloved Nancy.
Tune of, Ladies of London. This may be Printed, R.P.
|
WIlliam the Miller, who livd in the West,
|
A lusty stout Lad, brisk and ayry;
|
Now if you will but attend to the Jest,
|
I think it will make you all merry:
|
There was a Lass that used his Mill,
|
Her Name it was pretty facd Nancy;
|
He would be kissing and courting her still,
|
Theres no one but she he could fancy.
|
She was a beautifull Lass, I declare,
|
And one that was wonderfull witty:
|
There is not any with her can compare,
|
In Country Town or in City:
|
Nancy she did the Miller beguile,
|
She knew him a Knave by his learing,
|
Pray now have patience, and listen a while,
|
The Story is well worth your hearing.
|
Often he fain would have been at the sport,
|
if Nancy she would but be willing,
|
And as the Maiden herself did report,
|
he gave her full twenty good shilling;
|
She straight did yield, the case it was thus,
|
the Lass was resolved to cheat him,
|
The twenty Shillings she put in her purse,
|
and said at the Mill she would meet him.
|
Now for to study some joke she did aim,
|
that she in her fancy might glory,
|
Then to her true Love the Plowman she came,
|
and told him the sum of the story:
|
Robin replyd, my counsel is this,
|
we wont stand discoursing and arguing,
|
I in a Sack will be carryed as Grist,
|
because you shall stand to your bargain.
|
Master and Man did bitterly Roar,
|
I and for Mercy often did Cry,
|
But she did Thump and Thrash them the more,
|
sure said the Taylors now we shall dye:
|
No ye Rascals Ill not Kill you,
|
but am resolvd to pay your Arrears,
|
With that she did bruise them, and bitterly use them
|
poor Taylors was ner so luggd by the Ears.
|
Then they got loose and both run away;
|
Betty in wrath did vow and protest,
|
That she would send to them the next day,
|
for the Kings Service they should be Prest:
|
Then they were again affrighted,
|
this did create whole Troops of new fears,
|
Wel send now for pitty to good Mistriss Betty,
|
for Sea-Fights are worse then luggd by the Ears.
|
These very Lines the Taylor did send,
|
saying, sweet Betty Pardon us now,
|
Though it is true, we once did offend,
|
yet at your feet well willingly Bow,
|
Now this day to beg your Pardon,
|
that you may put us out of all fears,
|
Well never abuse you, but likewise excuse you,
|
although you did lugg us both by the Ears.
|
Now when the Lass had Pardond them both,
|
how the poor Rogues did Caper amain,
|
Likewise they tyd themselves by an Oath,
|
that they would ner offend her again:
|
Likewise gave her a Colation,
|
seeing she thus had banishd their fears,
|
They were not unwilling to spend twenty Shilling,
|
although she had luggd them both by the Ears.
|
After the Feast he said to his Man,
|
this has been charges you understand,
|
Therefore take all the care that you can,
|
Easter and Whitson-Tide are at hand:
|
For to Cabbidge Silks and Sattins,
|
do not forget to whett up your Sheirs:
|
Dear Master ner fear it, well presently share it,
|
and for time to come, take care of our Ears.
|
|
|
|
|
|