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EBBA 37692

British Library - Collection of 225 Ballads
Ballad XSLT Template
ROGER and MARY:
Or, the loving Couple in a great Engagement,
Rogers true love to his Mary
Did not in the least miscarry;
He Souldier-like besieg'd and enter'd,
And had the prize for which he ventur'd.
Tune of Moggies Jealousie.

AS Roger and Mary were toyling
The length of a hot Summers day
A Raking and swetting and broyling,
And shaking and turning the hay,
Quoth Roger, I prethee dear Mary
Lets lay us down under this Cock
For I do begin to be weary
And there let us take a sweet nog

But first they examin'd the bottle
Before they begin to repose
And Mary was scratching his noddle
And he was got under her cloths:

Good faith quoth he Mary i'le tell thee
Tis woundy full hot in this place
For thou art ene all of a jelly
As plain as the nose on my Face.

Quoth Mary to help out the matter
The weather is hot you know that
Besides I am plumper and fatter
Then Sarah that little starv'd Rat
In all the hard Frost I can tell thee:
The very same slippery place
Was never without a great jelly
As plain as the nose on your face.

I thought the low Countries, quoth he then
Was all the time frozen i'le swear:
But you were mistoken, quoth she then,
The devil a Frost e're came there,
when all elsewheee was frozen from rowing
And in a most pitiful case
That alwayes was open and flowing
As plain as the nose on your face.

I'm sure yet (quoth Hodge) its all Boggy,
A Quagmire like shivering ground,
And still it is fulsome and foggy,
And for ever the place may be drown'd.
Quoth she, if a Sot have comandidg
The Country-may come to disgrace
And drown'd for a time not withstanding,
As plain as the Nose in your Face.

As all this time Mary was groping
And fumbling about Rogers Head
The slures began for to open.
The gates of themselves they did spread:
Gods bobs then quoth Robin il'e tell it
And swear to it in any place,
The low Countries drown'd, I do smell it
As plain as the Nose on my Face.

Then Roger his courage did rally,
And manfully fell to his work,
And at the main breach made a sally
And ply'd on his thrust like a Turk;
But Roger Alas was confounded.
The breach was so deep at that place,
that poor Roger quickly was drowned,
As plain as the Nose on his Face.

When Mary had found the disaster,
That Roger could do no more work,
For Hodge decay'd faster and faster
And sneaking away he did lurk:
For which she was wondrous civil,
She would not the Lobcock disgrace,
But bid him go pack to the Devil,
As plain as the Nose on his Face.


LONDON.
Printed for P. Brooksby at the golden-
ball in Pye-Corner.

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