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EBBA 34224

National Library of Scotland - Rare Books I.262
Ballad XSLT Template
An Excellent new Ballad, Entituled Doll the Dair[y]
Maid, or the Dovenshire Damsel's Resolution [to]
Marry, together with her fierce Encounter wi[th]
the Taylor, Miller, etc.
To the Tune of, Ladies of London, etc.

MOther, I tejl you I'd sain be a Bride-
as well as my sweet Sister Nancy,
And have a Husband to lie by my side,
might I have one I cowld fancy,
I'll not have Ralph becase he is poor,
nor Roger because he is sulling,
Since I've a Dozon or twenty in stor,
I will be for picking and culling:

First came a Taylor with Bodkin and Shears,
aud vow'd he did dearly ador me;
I ludg'd the impudent Knave by the Ears,
and tumbl'd him down stairs before me:
Sirrah quoth I take notice in brief
in time you'l be catch'd by the Jaylor;
Think you I'le marry a Cucumber Thief,
a pitiful Cabbidging Taylor,

Roger the Miller, in all his best Cloaths,
he came about seven days after,
And as he said he did truely supose
to marry with Dally my Daughter:
But against him my fury I plaid,
and tumbl'd him into the Cellar,
Sarrah quoth I, it shall never be said,
I marr'd a Thief and a Miller.

Then came bold Harry, a Counceller's Cook;
and Mothre introth, I will tell you,
Without Disputing he presently took
your Daughter almost by the Belly;
Mother he was a very sad Man,
for as on my breast he was leaning,
He swore he would have a Sope in the pan;
I presently guest at his meaning.

Then came a Baker ane ignorant Soul,
and askt me if that I could love him;
He Discours'd much of his Rusling pole,
and said, he would bake in my Oven;
I turn'd the Rascal out of the Door;
and bang'd him about with a Raker,
Quoth I, I'll ne'r have the Curse of the poor,
by Marrying a Pillory Baker.

Mother, a Painter you shall understand,
came to me the next with a Pensil,
Which, forsooth Mother, he brought in his hand.
me thought 'twas a pretty Utensel
Close by my side he presently got,
placd on a Chair and a Cushion,
Where he did pull out I Don't know what
which set your poor Daughter a blushing.

I'll nevor hear Marry with none of that Crew,
give me a stout Souldier in armour;
Or else a Seaman, some honest true Blew,
or else a good Country Farmer:
These are the main supports of the Land,
the Farmer, the Souldier, the Sailor;
Therefore I'll never be at the Command
of Painter or pitiful Taylor.


FINIS.

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