The Hasty Bridegroom.
OR,
The rarest sport that hath been try'd,
Between a lusty Bride-groom and his Bride.
To the Tune of, Pass his Carrier: or, Bow-Bells.
|
COme from the Temple away to the Bed,
|
as the Merchant tran[s]ports some his treasure
|
Be not so coy Lady since we are wed,
|
no sin to taste of the pleasure.
|
then come let us be
|
blith merry and free,
|
Upon my life all the waiters are gone,
|
and 'tis so,
|
that they know,
|
where you go,
|
say not no,
|
For I mean to make bold with my own.
|
What is it to me though our hands joyned be;
|
if our bodies be still kept asunder,
|
Shall it be said there goes a marry'd Maid,
|
indeed we will have no such wonder;
|
therefore lets imbrace,
|
there's none sees thy face,
|
The Bride-Maids that waited are gone;
|
none can spy,
|
how you lye,
|
ne'er deny,
|
but say I,
|
For I mean to make bold with my own.
|
Then come let us kiss, and taste of that bliss,
|
which brave Lords and Ladies injoy'd:
|
If Maidens should be of the humour of thee;
|
Generations would soon be destroy'd:
|
then where were those joys,
|
the Girls and the Boys,
|
Would'st live in the World all alone,
|
don't destroy,
|
but enjoy,
|
seem not coy,
|
for a toy:
|
For indeed I'll make bold with my own.
|
SWeet love do not frown, but put off thy gown
|
a Garment unfit for the night,
|
Some say that black hath a relishing smack,
|
I had rather be dealing in white,
|
then be not afraid,
|
for you are not betray'd,
|
Since we are together alone,
|
I invite
|
you this night,
|
to do right,
|
my delight,
|
Is forthwith to make use of my own.
|
Prithee begin, don't delay, but unpin,
|
for my humour I cannot prevent it,
|
You are strait lac[']d, and you Gorgets so fast,
|
undo it, or I straight will rend it,
|
or to end all the strife,
|
I'll cut it with my knife,
|
'Tis too long to stay till 'tis undone,
|
Let thy waste,
|
Be unlac'd,
|
And in haste,
|
Be embrac'd,
|
For I do long to make bold with my own.
|
Feel with your hand, how you make me to stand,
|
even ready to starve in the cold,
|
Oh why should'st thou be, so hard-hearted to me,
|
that loves thee more dear than gold,
|
And as thou hast been,
|
Like fair Venus the Queen,
|
Most pleasant in thy parts every one,
|
let me find,
|
that thy mind
|
Is inclin'd
|
to be kind,
|
So that I may make bold with my own.
|
As thou art fair, and more sweet than the air,
|
that dallies on July's brave Roses:
|
Now let me be, to that Garden a key,
|
that the flowers of Virgins incloses,
|
and I will not be,
|
too rough unto thee,
|
For my nature unto boldness is prone,
|
Do no less,
|
then undress,
|
and unlace,
|
all a pace,
|
For this night i'le make use with my own,
|
When I have found thee temperate and sound,
|
thy sweet breast I will make for my Pillow,
|
'Tis pity that we which newly Married be,
|
should be forced to wear the green Willow.
|
We shall be blest,
|
and live sweetly at rest,
|
Now we are united in one;
|
With content,
|
And consent,
|
I am bent,
|
My intent,
|
Is this Night to make bold with my own.
|
WElcome dear love, all the powers above,
|
are well pleased at our happy meeting,
|
The Heavens have decreed, & the Earth is agreed,
|
that I should imbrace my own sweeting,
|
at bed and at board,
|
both in deed and in word,
|
My affection to thee shall be shown:
|
Thou art mine,
|
I am thine,
|
Let us joyn,
|
And combine,
|
I'll not bar thee from what is thy own.
|
Our Bride-beds made, thou shalt be my comrade.
|
for to lodge in my arms all the night,
|
Where thou shalt enjoy, being free from annoy,
|
all the sports wherein love takes delight,
|
Our Mirth shall be crown'd,
|
and our triumph renown'd,
|
Then Sweet-heart let thy valour be shown,
|
Take thy fill,
|
Do thy will,
|
Use thy skill,
|
Welcome still,
|
Why shouldst thou not make bold with thy own.
|
The Bridegroom and Bride, with much joy on each side,
|
then together to bed they did go,
|
But what they did there, I did neither see nor hear,
|
nor I do not desire to know,
|
But by Cupids aid,
|
They being well laid.
|
They made sport by themselves all alone.
|
Being plac'd,
|
And unlac'd,
|
He unceas'd,
|
She imbrac'd,
|
Then he stoutly made bold with his own.
|
|
|
|
|
|