THE
MERRY BROOMFIELD:
OR, THE
WEST COUNTRY WAGER.
To a new Tune. Licensd according to Order.
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A Noble young Squire that livd in the West,
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He courted a young Lady gay;
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And as he was merry, he put forth a Jest,
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A Wager with her he would lay.
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A Wager with me, the young Lady replyd,
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I pray, about what must it be?
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If I like the Humour, you shant be denyd,
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I love to be merry and free.
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Quoth he, I will lay you an hundred Pounds,
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A hundred Pounds, aye, and ten,
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That a Maid if you go, to the merry Broomfield,
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That a Maid you return not again.
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Ill lay you that Wager the Lady she said,
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Then the Money she flung down amain,
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To the merry Broomfield Ill go a pure Maid,
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The same Ill return Home again.
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He coverd her Bett in the Midst of the Hall,
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With an hundred and ten jolly Pounds:
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And then to his Servant straightway he did call,
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For to bring forth his Hawk and his Hounds.
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A ready Obedience the Servant did yield;
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And all was made ready oer Night.
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Next Morning he went to the merry Broomfield,
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To meet with his Love and Delight.
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Now when he came there having waited a While,
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Among the green Broom down he lies,
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The Lady came to him and coud not but smile,
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For Sleep then had closed his Eyes.
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Upon his right Hand a Gold Ring she securd,
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Down from her own Fingers so fair,
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That when he awaked he might be assurd,
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His Lady and Love had been there.
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She left him a Posie of pleasant Perfume,
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Then stept from the Place where he lay;
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And hid herself close in the Besom of the Broom,
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To hear what her true Love would say.
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He wakend and found the Gold Ring on his Hand,
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Then Sorrow of Heart he was in,
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My Love has been here I do well understand,
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And this Wager I now shall not win.
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Oh where was you my goodly Gawshawk,
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The which I have purchasd so dear,
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Why did you not waken me out of my Sleep,
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When the Lady my Lo[ve]r was here.
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O with my Bells did I ring Master,
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And eke with my Feet did I run,
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And still did cry, pray awake Master,
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Shes here now and soon will be gone.
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Oh where was you my gallant Greyhound,
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Whose Coller is flourishd with Gold,
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Why hadst thou not wakend me out of my Sleep,
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When thou didst my Lady behold.
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Dear Master I barkd with my Mouth when she came,
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And likewise my Coller I shook,
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And told you that here was the beautiful Dame,
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But no Notice of me then you took.
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O where was thou my serving Man,
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Whom I am cloathed so fine,
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If you had wakd me when she was here,
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The Wager then had been mine.
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In the Night you should have slept Master,
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And kept awake in the Day,
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Had you not been sleeping when hither she came,
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Then a Maid she had not gone away.
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Then Home he returnd when the Wager was los[t]
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With Sorrow of Heart I may say;
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The Lady she laughd to find her Love crost,
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This was upon Midsummer-day.
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O Squire I laid in the Bushes conceald,
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And heard you when you did complain:
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And thus I have been to the merry Broomfield,
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And a Maid returnd back again.
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Be chearful, be chearful, and do not repine,
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For now tis clear as the Sun:
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The Money, the Money, the Money is mine,
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The Wager I fairly have won.
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