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EBBA 35330

Houghton Library - 25242.67
Ballad XSLT Template
A New and True BALLAD of the Poet's Complaint:
OR,
A new Song to a new Tune, of a Young Wench living in Holbourn, with a full discription of the
notable Tricks put upon her by two Cornuted Suitors.
Reader assure thyself the thing is true,
And though it seem full strange 'tis very true;
I wish such Gypsies fitted all as she,
Then would they learn much honester to be.
To a Pleasant new Tune, called, I am Confirm'd, etc.

FAith i'm a Dog if I can guess
What strain will most obliege the Press:
'Mongst twenty several things, 'tis well,
If one in all the score will sell:
One thing alas is thought too stale,
Another is not fit for Sale;
Because the Poets modest Rhimes,
Are not so vicious as the Times.

In short, one reason is, I guess,
They know the Poet's Moneyless;
And they resolve to keep him so,
By feeding him with Snap and Go:
Another reason may be this,
They'l keep him Poor as he can Piss,
In hopes that in a while he may
Be forc'd to give his pains away.

But happen how it will, yet I
Once more resolved am to try
Whither I can provide a Sallat
That will but please your squeamish Pallat:
The Sauce is Tart, Meat fresh and new,
The Story no more strange then true;
Then welcome all, fall to I pray,
Much Good may't do you, Sirs I say.

In Holbourn late a Wench did dwell,
Known by the Name of Bouncing Nell;
Who Courted was by Suitors two,
For you must note one would not do:
She was a lusty strapping Jade,
And one that passed for a Maid;
And her two Friends the Devil take her,
Were a brisk Taylor and a Baker.

The Taylor after some dispute,
Provides this Lass a handsome Suit;
Some say 'twas made of Taylors Cabbidge
Yet it was too good for the Baggage:
Nay, this same Slut herself did tell,
Her Sweet-heart brought it out of Hell;
A place beneath his Shop-board, where
He us'd to put ill-gotten Ware.

The Baker loath to be behind,
Unto his Dear prov'd not less kind;
And being pritty full of Money,
He bought a Ring to give his Honey:
Whereon as you must understand,
Were lovers two claspt hand in hand;
Which made her promise he alone,
Should soon possess her as his own.

The Second Part, To the same Tune.

BUt the false Gypsie meant not so,
As by and by you well shall know;
For three nights after this she had,
Another proper lively Lad:
Who took possession of the thing
Promis'd the Baker for his Ring;
Which when the Baker understood,
He vowed revenge by all that's good.

He thereupon with speed did go
Unto the Taylor late his Foe;
And with a witty brisk contrival,
Tells the whole Story to his Rival:
At which he swore he'd blow her down,
He would pull of the Gypsies Gown;
And the next time he did her meet,
Would kick her up and down the street.

The Baker seeing him thus rage,
Speaks thus his fury to asswage;
We both are wrong'd alike, and I
Will be revenged or will dye:
Let us work closely, then quoth he,
And make no noise, and you shall see,
We'l play a prank shall fit her well,
And make her wish her name not Nell.

Things thus concluded, they agree,
To make no noise of what they see;
They were so true unto their trust,
That the poor Jade did not mistrust.
They notice took of what was done,
But thought herself clear as the Sun:
But you shall hear this subtle Shaver,
With a slye trick did much beslave her.

They both went streight and knockt at door,
As if they'd not been there before;
And tells her now his friend and he,
Were then resolved to agree:
And that a Supper was provided,
where this their case should be decided,
Let her choose, one the other he,
Should not controul her liberty.

Away she dogs with these her friends,
Without mistrusting of their ends;
They took a Coach and did convey
Their Lady quite another way:
And made the Coach-man stop awhile,
Without the town near half a Mile:
And took her forth immediately,
And thus began their Roguery.

The Baker cryes I understand,
Your Ladyship hath late took Man,
And since you are so hot 'tis meet,
Cold water should asswage your heat:
Of thy unfaithful Letcherous Tayle,
With that they both of them did trayle
Her to a little Pond thereby,
And souz'd her very handsomly.

The Taylor being loath to be
Behind his friend in Courtesie,
Lends her his helping hand, and tyes
Her head and face between her thighs:
And minding to go through stitch,
Sticks a light Candle in her Breech;
And in that posture leaves with jeers,
Her with her Coats about her ears.

They thereupon took Coach, and pray
She'd make no more such Fools as they,
Lest the next time some other Man,
Shew her a worse trick ten to one:
The Wench at last got loose, but how,
In truth good Reader I don't know:
So sham'd she was at what was done,
That home again she never come.

Some say this Wenches Friends do dwell
Near Derby hard by Kelston-Well:
And that she is gone down to try,
To cure her Itching Letchery:
But others think the reason why,
She from her dwelling thus did flye,
Was 'cause her shame flew in her face,
She left the Town to shun disgrace.


Printed for F. Coles, T. Vere, J. Wright, and J. Clarke.

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