The Crafty Maid: OR, The young Man put to his Trumps. He did begin to Wooe this Maid But she not believed one word he said; She put him off then, with a Jear, And sent him away with a Flea in's Ear. To the Tune of The Despairing Maid: or, Fye Love, fye.
|
IN Moor-fields one Evening Tide,
|
A pretty couple there I espy'd,
|
A dainty young Man and a Lass,
|
But you shall hear what came to pass,
|
He strait began to court this Maid,
|
And thought her heart for to betray:
|
But she would not yield to his Desire,
|
As by the Story you shall hear.
|
To Complement he did begin,
|
The Maid's Affection for to win,
|
With Speeches fair he did intreat,
|
And often said his Heart would break.
|
Quoth he, I am my Father's Heir,
|
And have Threescore pound a year;
|
I will maintain you gallantly,
|
If thou wilt yield my Bride to be.
|
Therefore I pray you be not coy,
|
For thou shalt be my only Joy,
|
If thou deniest thou wilt break my Heart;
|
For did'st thou feel the deadly smart
|
Which I sustain both day and night
|
For thee, which art my Hearts delight;
|
Therefore my Dearest pity me,
|
Or I shall dye for love of thee.
|
The Maid.
|
Good Sir I thank you for your Love,
|
Of your Discourse I don't approve;
|
For many nowadays I see,
|
Do bring themselves to Poverty,
|
By Marrying whilst they are so young,
|
But I'll not do myself such wrong;
|
Therefore forbear, thy Suit's in vain,
|
I will not Marry I tell ye plain.
|
You say you have Threescore pound a year,
|
What if thou hast, I do not care,
|
I knew those that had three times more,
|
And spent it all upon a Whore,
|
And so may thou for ought I know,
|
For all you make so fair a Show,
|
Then be content, and do not prate,
|
For fear that I should break thy pate.
|
The young Man.
|
The young Man standing in amaze,
|
And on the Maid did strangely gaze,
|
At last he made her this Reply,
|
And unto her these words did say:
|
What ails thee for to be so cross?
|
In troth I like thee worse and worse,
|
Of all the Maids that e'er I see,
|
I never heard the like of thee.
|
Sweet-heart believe me, or else chuse,
|
I'd have thee know I am none of those,
|
That spend my means upon a Whore,
|
Or run upon the Ale-wives Score;
|
No I will better be advised,
|
It's good to be merry and wise;
|
For Friends I see are very scant,
|
If that a Man do's come to want.
|
Maid.
|
My Friend, quoth she, what you have said,
|
Is not half true, I am afraid;
|
I cannot think you're so precise,
|
One may see plainly by your Eyes;
|
Your Hair is of the Colour right,
|
To cozen Maids is your delight;
|
But thou shalt ne'er prove false to me,
|
Or I will ne'er prove true to thee;
|
Therefore forbear my Company,
|
And henceforth come not me a nigh,
|
For I am not resolved to Wed,
|
Nor yet to loose my Maiden-head:
|
A single Life is void of Care,
|
For married Wives must pinch and spare,
|
There Charge for to maintain I see,
|
Therefore a single Life for me.
|
The Man.
|
Seeing thou provest so unkind,
|
I am resolved to change my mind;
|
A hundred pound I have in store,
|
And Threescore pound a year more,
|
If I can find an honest Girl,
|
I'll prize her more than Gold or Pearl,
|
And she shall live a Ladies Life,
|
After she's Maid my wedded Wife.
|
And so farewell, thou scornfull Dame,
|
In time thou mayest repent the same,
|
That thou to me didst prove untrue,
|
In time thou mayest have cause to rue;
|
Before that I will Marry thee,
|
I'll hang myself upon a Tree,
|
Rather I'll give my Wealth and Store,
|
To one that begs from door to door.
|
The Maid.
|
Farewell, be gone, thou sawcy Jack,
|
With thy Wealth and Money prithee pack,
|
My Portion is an hundred pound,
|
In Silver, and in good Gold so round,
|
Besides my Mother she doth cry,
|
I shall have all when she doth dye,
|
Then what need I care for thy Wealth?
|
Even as thou sayest, go hang thyself.
|
For I am resolved as I begun
|
To end, and so conclude my Song,
|
A single Life I hold it best,
|
And thereon still my mind is prest;
|
For Marriage brings Sorrow and Care,
|
So in it I'll not bear a share,
|
Since young Men are so fickle grown,
|
I am resolved to hold my own.
|
So Maids of you I'll take my leave,
|
Let no false young Men you deceive,
|
For many they are hard to trust,
|
Scarce one in twenty proveth just:
|
I for my own part will advise
|
All Maids henceforth for to be wise,
|
And have a care who you do wed,
|
For fear you bring a Knave to Bed.
|
|
|
|
|
|