The crafty maid: or, The young man put to his trumps. He did begin to wooe this maid but she not believed one word he said; she put him off then, with a jear, and sent him away with a flea in's ear. To the tune of The despairing maid: or, Fye love, fye.

The crafty maid: or, The young man put to his trumps. He did begin to wooe this maid but she not believed one word he said; she put him off then, with a jear, and sent him away with a flea in's ear. To the tune of The despairing maid: or, Fye love, fye.

Table of contents

The Crafty Maid: OR, The young Man put to his Trumps.

[Page]

The Crafty Maid: OR, The young Man put to his Trumps.

He did begin to Wooe this Maid

But she not believed one word he said;

She put him off then, with a Jear,

And sent him away with a Flea in's Ear.

To the Tune of The Despairing Maid: or, Fye Love, fye.

[figure]

[figure]

IN Moor-fields one Evening Tide,

A pretty couple there I espy'd,

A dainty young Man and a Lass,

But you shall hear what came to pass,

He strait began to court this Maid,

And thought her heart for to betray:

But she would not yield to his Desire,

As by the Story you shall hear.

To Complement he did begin,

The Maid's Affection for to win,

With Speeches fair he did intreat,

And often said his Heart would break.

Quoth he, I am my Father's Heir,

And have Threescore pound a year;

I will maintain you gallantly,

If thou wilt yield my Bride to he.

Therefore I pray you be not coy,

For thou shalt be my only Ioy,

If thou deniest thou wilt break my Heart;

For did'st thou feel the deadly smart

Which I sustain both day and night

For thee, which art my Hearts delight;

Therefore my Dearest pity me,

Or I shall dye for love of thee.

The Maid.

Good Sir I thank you for your Love,

Of your Discourse I don't approve;

For many now a days I see,

Do bring themselves to Poverty,

By Marrying whilst they are so young,

But I'll not do my self such wrong;

Therefore forbear, thy Suit's in vain,

I will not Marry I tell ye plain.

You say you have Threescore pound a year,

What if thou hast, I do not care,

I knew those that had three times more,

And spent it all upon a Whore,

And so may thou for ought I know,

For all you make so fair a Show,

Then he content, and do not prate,

For fear that I should break thy pate.

The young Man.

The young Man standing in a mare,

And on the Maid did strangely gaze,

At last he made her this Reply,

And unto her these words did say:

What ails thee for to be to cross?

In troth I like thee worse and worse,

Of all the Maids that e'er I see,

I never heard the like of thee.

Sweet-heart believe me, or else chuse,

I'd have thee know I am none of those,

That spend my means upon a Whore,

Or run upo the Ale-wives Score;

No I will better be advised,

It's good to be merry and wise;

For Friends I see are very scant,

If that a Man do's come to want.

Maid.

My Friend, quoth she, what you have said,

Is not half true, I am afraid;

I cannot think you're so precise,

One may see plainly by your Eyes;

Your Hair is of the Colour right,

To cozen Maids is your delight;

But thou shalt ne'er prove false to me,

Or I will ne'er prove true to thee;

Therefore forbear my Company,

And henceforth come not me a nigh,

For I am not resolved to Wed,

Nor yet to loose my Maiden-head:

A single Life is void of Care,

For married Wives must pinch and spare,

There Charge for to maintain I see,

Therefore a single Life for me.

The Man.

Saing thou provest so unkind,

I am resolved to change my mind;

A hundred pound I have in store,

And Threescore pound a year more,

If I can find an honest Girl,

I'll prize her more than Gold or Pearl,

And she shall live a Ladies Life,

After she's Maid my wedded Wife.

And so farewell, thou scornfull Dame,

In time thou mayest repent the same,

That thou to me didst prove untrue,

In time thou mayest have cause to rue;

Before that I will Marry thee,

I'll hang my self upon a Tree,

Rather I'll give my Wealth and Store,

To one that begs from door to door.

The Maid.

Farewell, be gone, thou sawey Iack,

With thy Wealth and Money prithee pack,

My Portion is an hundred pound,

In Silver, and in good Gold so round,

Besides my Mother she doth cry,

I shall have all when she doth dye,

Then what need I care for thy Wealth?

Then as thou sayest, go hang thy self.

For I am resolved as I begun

To end, and so conclude my Song,

A single Life I hold it best,

And thereon still my mind is prest;

For Marriage brings Sorrow and Care,

So in it I'll not bear a share,

Since young Men are so sickle grown,

I am resolved to hold my own.

So Maids of you I'll take my leave,

Let no false young Men you deceive,

For many they are hard to trust,

Scarce one in twenty proveth just:

I for my own part will advise

All Maids henceforth for to be wise,

And have a care who you do wed,

For fear you bring a Knave to Bed.

Information about this book

Title statement

The crafty maid: or, The young man put to his trumps. He did begin to wooe this maid but she not believed one word he said; she put him off then, with a jear, and sent him away with a flea in's ear. To the tune of The despairing maid: or, Fye love, fye.

Edition statement

1670-1696?

Publication

Publisher

Text Creation Partnership,

Place of publication

Ann Arbor, MI ; Oxford (UK) :

Date

2009-10 (EEBO-TCP Phase 1).

ID [DLPS]

B02458

ID [STC]

Wing C6776

ID [STC]

Interim Tract Supplement Guide EBB65H[54]

ID [STC]

Interim Tract Supplement Guide C.20.f.8[96]

ID [EEBO-CITATION]

99887078

ID [PROQUEST]

ocm99887078

ID [VID]

183289

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This keyboarded and encoded edition of the work described above is co-owned by the institutions providing financial support to the Early English Books Online Text Creation Partnership. This Phase I text is available for reuse, according to the terms of Creative Commons 0 1.0 Universal. The text can be copied, modified, distributed and performed, even for commercial purposes, all without asking permission.

Series

Early English books online.

Notes

(EEBO-TCP ; phase 1, no. B02458)

Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 183289)

Images scanned from microfilm: (Early English books; Tract supplement ; A2:3[54]; A5:2[80])

Source

— The crafty maid: or, The young man put to his trumps. He did begin to wooe this maid but she not believed one word he said; she put him off then, with a jear, and sent him away with a flea in's ear. To the tune of The despairing maid: or, Fye love, fye.,

Extent

1 sheet ([1] p.) : ill. (woodcuts).

Printed for P[hilip]. Brooksby in Pye-Corner.,. [London] :: [between 1670-1696]. (Verse: "In Moor-fields one evening tide ...") (Place, date of publication, and publisher's name from Wing.) (L copy trimmed affecting imprint.) (Reproduction of original in the Harvard University, Houghton Library and the British Library.)

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