A Third Merry DITTY
OF
COLD and RAW:
BEING
The Fierce Encounter between Roger the Plow-man, and the bonny Scot,
who met with him when he was at a Fair with the Farmers Daughter.
To the same Tune. This may be Printed, R.P.
|
COld and Raw you can't forget,
|
the Maid that sold the Barley,
|
Who the Scotch-man did Out-wit,
|
one Winters morning early:
|
Then listen now and i'le unfold
|
a third and pleasant Story,
|
How he beset her for his Gold,
|
but it proved young Rogers Glory.
|
He was Riding to a Fair,
|
with Kate his Masters Daughter,
|
When the Scot did meet them there,
|
but mark what follow'd after:
|
When as the Scot the Lass espy'd,
|
he Rav'd at her out of measure,
|
Give me my Purse and Gold, he cry'd,
|
you Rob'd me of all my Treasure.
|
Envy was in Jockeys Face,
|
but yet that no ways daunts her,
|
Kate with a most Noble Grace,
|
returns him straight this Answer:
|
I never stole no Purse from you,
|
cou'd I be so much your Master?
|
Be gone and make no more ado,
|
or else I will lay you faster.
|
Now to Roger she made known,
|
how often he did woe her,
|
When he met her all alone,
|
in order to undo her:
|
Uds-zooks, quoth Roger, did he so?
|
and wou'd he have wrong'd my honey?
|
Then by my faith, before I go,
|
this Cudgel shall pay the Money.
|
Jockey he had by his side,
|
a true and trusty Rapier.
|
Therefore with his Haughty Pride,
|
at Roger he did vapour:
|
Which did his Spirits so provoke,
|
that anger and blows encreases,
|
His Rapier with a bang he broke,
|
that shiver'd in twenty pieces,
|
Yet stout Roger did not mean
|
of Life once to deprive him,
|
But about the Fair and Green,
|
he like a Stag did drive him:
|
At length he beg'd his pardon there
|
of Katy the Farmers Daughter,
|
It was the Sport of all the Fair.
|
there never was greater Laughter.
|
By all Men and Women too,
|
stout Roger was commended,
|
Further still their love to shew,
|
the Quarrel being ended,
|
A Rule was made through all the town,
|
for Rogers sake to be Merry,
|
And drank his Health in Liquor brown,
|
nay, likewise in rich Canary.
|
Then near Night they home wou'd ride
|
and Roan was straight made ready,
|
Horse and Man on e'ry side,
|
as if a Lord and Lady:
|
When coming to her Father dear,
|
said they, he deserves to have her,
|
Now ever since that time, we hear
|
stout Roger is much in Favour.
|
And belov'd at such a rate
|
by Father, Friends, and Mother,
|
That they vow'd he should have Kate,
|
Uds-zooks, above all other;
|
Because he kept her safe from harm,
|
and fear[']d neither wind nor weather,
|
And now they keep a worthy Farm,
|
where they lovingly live together.
|
|
|
|
|
|