THE
Covetous Old Mother;
Or, The terrible Overthrow of
Two Loyal Lovers.
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You that these woful Tidings hear,
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Can you forbear to shed a Tear,
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Surely your tender Hearts must bleed,
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When you these moving Lines do read.
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To the Tune of, Oh! so ungrateful Creature, etc.
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THere was a wealthy young 'Squire,
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Who a fair Damsel did love;
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Nay, and it was so intire,
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Nothing his Fancy could move:
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She was of ordinary Parents,
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Which when his Friends they did know,
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They strove to set them at Variance,
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Proving their sad Overthrow.
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Son, said his indulgent Mother,
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Pray now listen unto me,
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I have consider'd another,
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Suitable to your Degree:
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That you may rise to Promotion,
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She is both virtuous and fair,
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Two thousand Pounds to her Portion,
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Therefore your Folly forbear.
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Mother, those Charms do inflame me,
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Which in my Dear I behold;
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Therefore I pray do not blame me,
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True Love is better than Gold:
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Might I have Wealth out of Measure,
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Nothing my Mind can remove,
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I'll never marry for Treasure,
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Give me the Creature I love.
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I can maintain like a Lady
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She whom I do adore,
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Have I not Riches already,
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What need I covet for more.
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If you give me not One Penny,
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I have a Hundred a Year,
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Now if I marry with any,
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It shall be Nancy my Dear.
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Son, if your Love be so routed,
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That from her you cannot part,
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By me it sha'n't be disputed,
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Take her then withal my Heart;
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But she in this was deceitful,
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As by this Ditty you'll find,
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Never was Action more hateful,
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Malice remain'd in her Mind.
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Straight she repair'd to this Creature,
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Vowing to send her away;
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Yet with a Smile she did meet her,
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Saying, dear Daughter, this Day,
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We will go to buy your Attire,
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Every Thing I'll provide;
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'Tis my unfeigned Desire,
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That you shall be my Son's Bride.
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Thus was the Matter contrived,
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Just as his Mother would have;
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Then to the Captain in private,
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She sold her to be a Slave.
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She from Old England did send her,
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Fill'd with much Sorrow and Woe,
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Their was no Soul to defend her,
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But was compelled to go.
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When her Invention was over,
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Then she return'd to her Son,
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Freely to him did discover,
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Presently what she had done.
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When he heard what she had acted,
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His Rapier straight he pull'd forth,
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Raving like one quite distracted,
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Crying, You've ruined us both.
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Then on the point of his Rapier,
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He did immediately fall,
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His Life did go like a Vapour,
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This was the Ruin of all.
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His Mother more than uncivil,
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Was of a covetous Mind,
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Money's the Root of all Evil,
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Caus'd this Confusion we find.
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Now does his Mother with Weeping,
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Weary out many a Day,
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While her dear Son lies a Sleeping,
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Low in a cold Bed of Clay:
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This is a dismal Relation,
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She whom he much did adore,
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Now is sent far from the Nation,
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Where she'll never see him more.
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Newcastle: Printed and sold by JOHN WHITE.
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