THE
Wanton wenches of Wiltshire
Being a Pleasant Discourse between Four young Females, as they
Sat together in a convenient place to scatter their Water, who being over-
heard by Two young-men, occasioned the whole Discovery of their Discourse.
Tune of, The Maids a Washing.
This may be printed, R. P.
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NOw young Batchelors all draw near,
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And you a pleasant Discourse shall here:
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Of four young Damsels all meeting & greeting
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Each other together in fair Wiltshire:
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All complain'd at a sorrowful rate,
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Because they could not enjoy a mate
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Whilst they made their sad pittiful moan
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They thought they were private and all alone.
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One said, I must depart a space,
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For here I am in a woful case,
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I find I'm ready to scatter my water,
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Therefore I must find a convenient place,
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where no young man may see what I do,
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And then i'le straight ways return to you;
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But unto this they would no ways agree,
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They'd all go together for Company.
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Hand in hand then away they go,
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Like loving Sisters all in a row,
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Two young men hearing their tattle & prattle,
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Resolved some more of this Gigg to know:
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Therefore watching them whither they went,
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These two young men by joynt consent,
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Both resolved in Ambush to lye,
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Where both words and actions they might descry.
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My sweet Sister, says one I find,
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Night and day such a pain in my mind,
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Because I am not the blessing possessing,
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Which I might enjoy if young men were kind,
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Now I tremble while here I reveal
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The inward torments which now I feel,
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But yet in vain do I utter my grief,
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Since no one will yield me the least relief.
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Once I heard of a woman old,
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Whose face was wrinkl'd and blood near cold,
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But yet I tell ye, she crying, replying
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The sorrow I suffer cannot be told;
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You may easily guess at the cause,
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And need not stand very long to pause:
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Now if old Women such passion express,
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I hope a young Damosel can do no less.
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Said the Second, young sweet fac'd John,
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You know he is a young lusty man,
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I dearly love him, provoke him, and stroke him,
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Yet he will not Kiss me do what I can
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I have fed him with Custards and Cream,
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And all things that can pleasant seem;
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Nay, call him my honey, my love and dear,
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And Yet I protest I am ne'r the near.
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Said the Third, I am pure Cole-black,
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And that you know has a dainty Smock,
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Besides, I know I am witty and pritty,
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Then why should not I have those joys I lack?
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Being youthful, and just in my prime,
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And loth to lose my Teeming time,
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Yet brisk young Gallants no kindness will show,
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What reason have I to be served so.
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Then the Fourth did begin to prate,
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And that was bony, brisk bounsing Kate,
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Who did with fury, behold 'um and told 'um,
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That she was stark mad, for a man-like mate,
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Tho' I'm shorter then others may be
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Yet wherefore should this hinder me?
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Behold I am of a delicate Brown,
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No Colour is better in all the Town.
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Nay, the worst of us all might serve,
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For surely Batchellors don't deserve
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To have our Favour who spight us, & flight us,
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And suffer poor Damsels to pine and starve;
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But we'l tattle no longer of this,
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So e'ry Sister sat down to P----s,
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But yet before they had perfectly done,
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The Young-men they laught, & the Wenches run.
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