THE
Covetous MOTHER:
OR,
The terible Overthrow of the Two
LOYAL LOVERS.
You that these woful Tidings hear,
Surely your Hearts will bleed,
Who can forbear to shed a Tear,
When they these Liens shall read.
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THere was a wealthy young 'Squire,
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whom a fair Damsel did love;
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Nay, and it was so intire,
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nothing his Fancy could move:
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She born of ordinary Parents,
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when his Friends they did know,
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They strove to set them at Variance,
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proving their sad Overthrow.
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Son, said the indulgent Mother,
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I pray you now listen to me,
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I have consider'd another
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most suitable to your Degree;
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That you may rise to Promotion,
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she is both Virtuous and Fair,
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Two thousand Pounds to her Portion,
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therefore your Folly forbear.
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Mother, those Charms do inflame me,
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which in my Dear I behold;
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Therefore, I pray, do not blame me,
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for True Love is better than Gold
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Might I have Wealth out of Measure,
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nothing can my Mind remove,
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I'll never Marry for Treasure,
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give me the Creature I love.
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I can maintain her like a Lady,
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she whom I do much adore,
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I have got Riches already,
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what need I covet for more?
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If you give me not one Penny,
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I have five Hundred a Year;
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Now if I Marry with any,
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it shall be Nanny my Dear.
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Son, if your Love is so rooted,
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that from her you cannot part,
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By me it shan't be disputed,
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take her with all my whole Heart:
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But she in that was deceitful,
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as by this Ditty you'll find;
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Never was Action more hateful,
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malice remain'd in her Mind.
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Strait she repair'd to the Creature,
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vowing to send her away;
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But with a Smile she did meet her,
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saying, Dear Daughter, this Day
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We will go buy your Attire,
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everything I will provide,
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'Tis my unfeigned Desire
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that you should be my Son's Bride.
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Thus was the Matter contriv'd,
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just as his Mother would have;
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Then to a Captain, in private,
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she sold her for to be a Slave.
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She from Old England did send her,
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fill'd with much Sorrow and Woe,
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There was no Soul to defend her,
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but she was compelled to go.
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When her Intention was over,
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then she return'd to her Son;
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Freely to him did discover
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presently, what she had done;
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When he heard what she had acted,
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his Rapier he strait pulled forth,
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Raving like one quite distracted,
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crying, you have ruin'd us both.
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Then on the Point of his Rapier
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he did immediately fall;
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His Life did go out like a Taper,
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this was the Ruin of all:
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His Mother more than uncivil,
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was of a covetous Mind;
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Money, the Root of all Evil,
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caus'd this Confusion, we find.
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Now does his Mother, with weeping,
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weary out many a Day,
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While her dear Son he lies sleeping
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low in a Bed of cold Clay:
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This is a sad Desolation;
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she who he much did adore,
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Now is sent far from the Nation,
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where she will ne'er see him more.
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