The witty VVesterne Lasse: OR,
You Maids, that with your friends whole nights have spent,
Beware back-fallings, for feare of the event.
To a new tune, called the Begger Boy.
SWéet Lucina lend me thy aid,
thou art my helper and no other,
Pitty the state of a Téeming Maid,
that never was Wife, yet must be a Mother:
By my presage it should be a Boy,
that thus lyes tumbling in my belly,
Yéeld me some ease to cure my annoy,
and lift to the griefe I now shall tell ye.
I was beloued every where,
and much admired for my beauty,
Young men though [...] they happy were,
who best to me could shew their duty:
But now alack, paind in my back,
and cruell gripings in my belly,
Doe force me to cry, O sick am I,
I feare I shall die, alack, and welly.
Instead of mirth now may I wéepe,
and sadly for to sit lamenting,
Since he I loued, no faith doth kéepe,
nor séekes no meanes for my contenting:
But all regardlesse of my mone,
or that lies tumbling in my belly,
He into Sweathland now is gone,
and left me to cry, alack, and welly.
It doth the Prouerbe verifie,
folly it were to complaine me,
Those that desired my company,
scornfully they now they disdaine me:
Wanting his sight, was my delight,
and cruell gripings in my belly,
Doe force me to cry, O sick am I,
I feare I shall die, alack, and welly.
Thus am I to the World a scorne,
my dearest friends will not come nigh me:
Shall I then for his absence mourne,
that for his dearest doth deny me?
No, no, no, I will not doe so,
with patience I my griefe will smother,
And as he hath coozened me,
so will I by cunning gull another.
Incontinent to Troynovant,
for my content Ile thither hie me,
Where priuately, from company,
obscurely Ile lye, where none shall descry me:
And when I am eased of my paine,
and cruell gripings in my belly,
I for a Maid will passe againe,
and néed not to cry, alack, and welly.
The second part,
To the same tune.
SOme Trades-man there I will deceiue,
by my modesty and carriage,
And I will so my selfe behaue,
as by some trick to get a Marriage:
And when I am married, I will so carry it,
as none shall know it by my belly,
That euer I haue formerly
had cause to cry, alack, and welly.
And if he be a Husband kind,
Ile true and constant be vnto him:
Obedient still he shall me find,
with good respect Ile duty owe him:
But if he crabbed be, and crosse,
and basely beat me, back and belly,
As Vulcans Knight, Ile fit him right,
and scorne to cry, alack, and welly.
A secret friend Ile kéepe in store,
for my content and delectation,
And now and then in the Taverne rore,
with jouiall Gallants, men of fashion:
Sacke, or Claret, I will call for it,
Ile scorne to want, or pinch my belly,
But merry will be in company,
no more I will cry, alack, and welly.
And if I cannot to my mind
a Husband get, that will maintaine me,
Ile shew my selfe to each man kind,
in hope, that it some love will gaine me:
But yet so warie I will be,
Ile shun from ought may wrong my belly,
Through misery, to cause me cry,
as formerly, alack, and welly.
Had he I lov'd, but constant prou'd,
and not haue béene to me deceitfull,
No subtill Sinon should haue mou'd
me to these odious courses hatefull:
But since that he proues false to me,
not pittying that is in my belly,
No more I will grieu [...], but merry will be,
and cry no more, alack, and welly.
With resolution firmely bent,
Ile cast off care and melancholly,
Sorrow and griefe, and discontent:
to fret, and vexe, it is but a folly,
Or séeke by woe to ouerthrow,
or wrong the first fruits of my belly:
No, no, no, no, Ile not doe so,
no more will I cry, alack, and welly.
Robert Guy.
FINIS.
Printed at London for I.W.