THE
Maltster's Daughter of Malborough:
CONTAINING
A pleasant Discourse between her Mother and she,
ABOUT
The weary Burthen of a troublesome Maiden-head: Con-
cluding with the Mother's Consent to the Daughter's Satisfaction.
To the Tune of, The Scotch Hay-makers.
|
MOther let me Marry, I long to be a Bride,
|
And have a lusty young Man to dally by my side,
|
For I think it is well known, that I am a Woman grown,
|
Therefore 'tis pity one so pritty e'er should lye alone;
|
Do not deny me therefore I pray,
|
Consider I am young and may chance to go astray;
|
My Maiden-head, I'll swear, does fill my Heart with Care,
|
The Burthen, Burthen, oh! the Burthen's more then I can bear.
|
Why art thou so eager to be a marry'd Wife,
|
The greatest joy and pleasure is in a single Life;
|
Daughter, now you live at ease, and can ramble where you please,
|
But if you Marry, you must tarry, Sorrows will you seize,
|
House-keeping's chargable, my dear Child,
|
But Nanny she reply'd, Mother I am almost wild;
|
My Maiden-head, I'll swear, does fill my Heart with Care,
|
The Burthen, Burthen, oh! the Burthen's more then I can bear.
|
Am I not a Beauty, and in my blooming Prime,
|
Then let me have a Husband, for sure it is high time;
|
Leave them my Heart's delight, tho' I labour day and night,
|
It would be pleasure out of measure, Mother, if I might
|
Have all the Riches that e're I saw,
|
Without a loving Man I'd not value of a straw,
|
My Maiden-head, I'll swear, does fill my Heart with Care,
|
The Burthen, Burthen, etc.
|
Daughter don't provoke me, but hold your idle Tongue,
|
And talk no more of Man, you are seven Years to young.
|
Mother, pray what do you mean? am I not above fifteen?
|
Let Gallants try me, don't deny me, thousands I have seen
|
Who has been Marry'd before my Age,
|
And if I longer stay, you'll put me in a rage,
|
My Maiden-head, I'll swear, does fill my Heart with Care,
|
The Burthen, Burthen, etc.
|
Daughter I was nineteen before I e're did wed,
|
Yet was not over-burthen'd with my dear Maiden-head.
|
Loving Mother that may be, but it's otherwise with me
|
That's brisk and airy, therefore weary of Virginity,
|
Cupid has gave me a fatal Wound,
|
Therefore a Man I'll have if he be above the Ground,
|
My Maiden-head, etc.
|
The Burthen, Burthen, etc.
|
If you are so pomper'd, I'll pull your courage down
|
By hard and painful labour, strip off your silken gown,
|
With your Toppings rich and gay, to the Field this very day
|
I'll send you packing, cloath'd in Sacking, then perhaps you may
|
Leave off your longing for a young Man.
|
No, no, I never shall, then reply'd her Daughter Nan,
|
My Maiden-head, etc.
|
The Burthen, Burthen, etc.
|
Mother, if you send me to labour in the Field,
|
Young Batchelors will tempt me, and I perhaps may yield
|
To the thing I will not name, therefore never lay the blame
|
Upon your Daughter, if hereafter I should play the Game;
|
For I am certain it will be so,
|
A Man I needs must have whether Mother will or no,
|
My Maiden-head, etc.
|
The Burthen, etc.
|
If you are resolved to play at Hoopers-hide,
|
There's honest Frank the Farmer for you I will provide,
|
He is lusty, tall and trim, and has Courage to the brim.
|
I thank you, Mother, there's no other that I love like him;
|
Now for the Torment which I endure,
|
I make no other doubt but to have a speedy Cure,
|
My Maiden-head, I'll swear, does fill my Heart with care,
|
Now, not much longer, not much longer I'll that Burthen bear.
|
|
|
|
|
|