A mock-Song: Or, Love and no love.
The young-man with this Maid would fain be doing,
And very earnest was with her in wooing;
But the Maiden she was very cunningly witted,
I think no young-man never was better fitted.
To the Tune of, Mars and Venus.
With Allowance, Ro. LEstrange.
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ALL in the Evening as I walked
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in the fields to take the ayr;
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I spyed two Lovers there a talking,
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under a pleasant shady Bower;
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The young-man said sweet-heart dost love me,
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For I vow now I am come to prove thee,
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if thou will be true and constant,
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And grant me love for love again,
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For I swear my heart with love is slain.
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Maid.
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Indeed good Sir you do but flatter,
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your complements cost you no money;
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Ide have you rest your self contented,
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for all you call me love and honey:
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For a Maiden she had need be careful,
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And of young-mens promises to be fearful,
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theyr given so much to dissemble;
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And tell a Maiden a hundred lyes,
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as many as there is stars ith skies.
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Man.
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Alas fair Maiden your mistaken,
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ile be as true as I do say:
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And take these Gloves now in a love token,
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and let us dally a while today.
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The time is pleasant, lets be doing,
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As a remembrance of our amorous wooing;
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and be so civil to my question;
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If thou and I can but agree,
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I take much delight in thy company.
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Maid.
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O Sir I see what your intent is,
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your a pretty man I understand;
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To bring a Maiden to destruction,
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if she could be by you trappand:
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but hold you, for tho your tongue runs nimble
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Some men they can lye and dessemble;
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so cunningly that he can wooe:
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To bring a Maiden to their Bow,
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But I am not one that will do so.
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Besides your nose Sir is so messel,
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you spend what should maintain a Wife,
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That is a sign that you will baffle,
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you make her weary of her life:
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Besides your countenance looks sour,
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That you can both lout, pout and lour,
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out of a Crab-tree you was bred;
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Your Vinegar face makes me afraid,
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Ide better in my grave be laid.
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Man.
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O prethee Maiden be contented,
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I have gold to make amends for all;
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For want of beauty ile show more fancy,
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thou have thy servants at thy call:
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Besides ile be so loving to thee,
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Because I can small beauty show thee,
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what in my heart shall not be wanting:
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If thou will yield thy love to me,
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That we in love may both agree.
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Maid.
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Indeed Sir you I cannot fancy,
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thats not the thing I stand upon;
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If I have a man he be neat and handsome,
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take your answer now Sir, and be gone:
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For a Frying-pan face shall not me intangle,
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Ile keep out of false Cupids angle,
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nor no golden baits shall fetter me:
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I live well enough if I can see,
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For a single life to a Maid is free.
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Man.
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Why then fair Maiden I must leave thee,
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God send thee a husband to thy delight,
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I am sorry my Crab-tree face doth grieve thee,
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a fairer may chance to have more deceit.
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All is not gold that now doth glister,
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Nor all not lead that doth look rusty:
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the Tryal of a man is all,
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If thou canst not love me another shall,
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You may chance to leap and get a fall.
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Maid.
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I wish you Sir once more to hear me,
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I have a word more for to say;
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If I should yeild and you deceive me,
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I might repent it another day;
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Therefore ile not be tyd in Marriage,
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But live a Maid in a civil carriage,
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a single life [I] hold it pleasant;
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For a woman to go whether she please,
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Shes free to work, or take her ease.
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And so ide wish you to be jogging,
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and take your fortune where you can;
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Many Maids has believed young-mens caging
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and by that means has been undone.
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For as long as a Maid she can live single,
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And keep out of Cupids tangle;
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shes free from sorrow, care, and strife;
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Before many a man that has a Wife,
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And lives a pleasant happy life.
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