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EBBA 35469

Houghton Library - Hazlitt EC65
Ballad XSLT Template
The Broken CONTRACT;
OR, THE
Ruin'd Virgin's Complaint.
Enter'd in the Stamp Office, according to Act of Parliament.

YOU pretty Maidens all, I pray give Ear,
Unto my Downfall, which I declare,
Of Parentage I am,
Near to a Gentleman,
As some now Witness can the Date of Year.

At Fourteen Years of Age, with Grief I tell,
Many a young Man fair loved me well;
I being childish young,
Believ'd a flatt'ring Tongue,
And fix'd my Mind upon a brisk young Man.

He said, If I'd not yield with him to dwell,
He would go hang himself, whate'er befell;
He wrung and tore his Hair,
And wickedly did swear,
His Sword should end the Care before me then.

I hearing what he said, grieved me so,
I took him for my Friend, not for my Foe;
Young Man, said I, forbear,
I pray let go your Hair,
I'll ease you of your Care, and be your Bride.

O how he jump'd for Joy before me then,
My Love and only Joy, happy's the Man;
He kindly me embrac'd,
And hung about my Waste,
And then my Love I plac'd on this young Man.

For two Months space and more he courted me,
Day by Day, Night by Night, he set by me,
He let me take no Rest,
I must sleep on his Breast;
And then my Love I plac'd on this young Man.

The appointed Day was set we were to wed,
But first of all he stole my Maidenhead;
My Parents did not know,
I lov'd this young Man so,
Which prov'd my Overthrow and Ruin quite.

When I with Child did prove, and him had told,
He call'd me twenty Whores brazen and bold;
I know you not, says he,
Therefore be gone from me:
This prov'd my Misery his Love was cold.

I was asham'd to stay where I was known,
For straitway I went from my own Home.
I wander'd up and down,
From Sea-Port Town to Town,
'Till in Travail I fell down in the Highway.

Then taken up I were by Womenkind,
Whose Friendship for to show, Nature did bind,
Deliver'd then I were,
Of Two fine Babies fair,
Which caused me much Care; be warn'd by me

PART II.

WAS ever Damsel so unfortunate,
As i have been? for lo my Grief is great,
No Comfort can i find,
To ease a careful Mind,
Since he is so unkind, who wronged me.

My Friends and Parents dear, alass i left,
To wander far and near, sadly bereft
Of Joy and Comfort too:
False Friend, farewel, Adieu,
In Sorrow here I rue my wretched State.

My Infants being born, as i have told,
I then endur'd the Scorn of Young and Old;
For they derided me,
In that sad Misery;
No Comfort could I see to Ease my Care.

With my sweet smiling Son and Daughter dear,
To my false Love I run, when I drew near,
With Heart of Heaviness,
These Words I did express,
My Wrongs i pray redress, and pity me.

i laid before him then my Grief and Care,
And likewise told him when in sad Despair,
i wander'd to and fro,
in Sorrow, Grief, and Woe,
And knew not where to go to hide my shame.

i told him i had no Place of Abode,
But travel'd to and fro, 'til in the Road,
i did in Travail fall,
My Sorrow was not small,
Having no Friend at all to Succour me.

These infants at my Breast by you i have,
And were they richly dress'd, they'd be as brave,
As ever Sun shin'd on,
Then hear my piteous Moan,
And for their sakes alone, Love, pity me.

When i had ended this mournful Tale,
With a most hearty Curse he 'gan to rail,
Striking me such a Blow,
Which laid me sprawling low:
With Grief my Eyes did flow, my Heart was full.

My little infants cry'd, while i was down,
Here was my Patience try'd, for in the Town,
That Night i might not stay;
But be compell'd away:
i knew not what to say, but wept full sore.

in the Town where he dwelt i was not known,
Therefore their Rage i felt, for he alone,
Hired near Forty more,
Which did abuse me sore,
Never was Soul before abus'd like me.

They drove me out of Town, few Friends i saw,
My former Bed of Down that Night was Straw,
My infants by my side,
With bitter Bruises cry'd,
And the next Day they dy'd, tho to my Grief.

Sweet Virgins fair and young, take heed i pray,
Let no deluding Tongue lead you astray,
Lest you my Grief behold,
Which have been manifold,
Hot Love is soonest cold, i know 'tis true.

PART III.
The Gentleman's Tragedy, Or, A mournful
Answer to the Ruin'd Virgin.

AS he lay on his Bed that very Night,
Strange thoughts run in his Head, did him affright,
He dream'd his Love he see
in sad Extremity;
So that next Morning he bitterly cry'd;

i am that wretched Man who broke my Vow,
No living Mortal can pity me now;
Bathed in Tears I lie,
Accus'd with Perjury;
Oh! Whither shall I fly to ease my Grief?

No youthful Lady fair, for Beauty bright,
Could with my Love compare, tho I did slight
Her Lamentation so,
Causing her Eyes to flow,
In bitter Grief and Woe when in Distress.

My very Conscience, Friends, flies in my Face,
How shall I make amends for the Disgrace,
Which I did bring her to,
When from her Friends she flew?
My Sorrow does renew now Night and Day.

Why did I strike her down with Blows severe?
Why did I raise the Town to wrong my Dear?
When she her Moan did make,
For her young Infants sake,
With Grief my Heart will break for what I've done.

I'll search the Nation round both Night and Day,
And if she can be found, without delay,
I will her Pardon crave;
Which, if I may not have,
I'll seek a silent Grave, and lay me down.

O'er Hills and Dales he went, thro' Groves he past,
To seek his Heart's Content, and came at last
Near to a River side,
Where silver Streams did glide,
His Lover there he spy'd bleeding to Death.

Close by her side he found these Verses writ,
Myself did give the Wound that I might quit
My Life of Care and Grief,
Since there was no Relief,
Worse than a cruel Thief my Love has been.

Like one Distracted then his Locks he tore,
And often kiss'd her when bathed in Gore;
Crying out, as she lay,
This is a dismal Day,
Alas! What shall I say, I am the Cause.

What shall I think of this which I have done?
Then he her Lips did kiss so pale and wan;
In Sorrows compass'd round,
Kneeling upon the Ground,
He bath'd her bleeding Wound with flowing Tears.

He many sighs did fetch, crying again,
None by a cruel Wretch, as I have been,
E'er could have serv'd thee so;
For, to my Grief, I know,
I wrought thy Overthrow, and ruin'd thee.

Has Death no fatal Dart, which he will give,
To pierce my cruel Heart, Why should I live?
Why should I here remain.
Since my dear Love is slain:
Oh! ease me of my Pain, and let me die.

I'll go the nearest Way now to my Dear,
I will no longer stay to languish here,
This said, his Sword he drew,
And ran it thro and thro,
And bid the World Adieu, as down he fell.

You loyal Lovers all, take Notice, i pray,
See you a Conscience make, and don't betray
Any poor harmless Love,
Lest you their Ruin prove,
For there's a God above, will find you out.


Sold by J. Cobb, in Plumb-Tree Street,
St. Giles's.

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