The FRYER well Fitted;
OR,
A pretty Jest that once befell,
How a Maid put a Fryer to cool in the Well.
To a Merry Tune.
AS I lay musing all alone,
fa, la, la, la, la,
A pritty jest I thought upon,
fa, la, la, la, la,
Then listen a while, and I will you tell,
Of a Fryer that lov'd a bonny Lass well
fa, la, la, la, la,
fa, la, la, lang-tre-down-dilly.
He came to the Maid when she went to bed
fa, la, &c.
Desiring to have her Maiden-head,
fa, la, &c.
But she denyed his desire,
And told him, that she fear'd Hell Fire;
fa, la, &c.
Tush (qd. the Fryer) thou needst not
fa, la, &c.
If thou wert in hell I could sing thee out doubt
fa, la, &c.
Then (qd. the maid) thou shalt have thy request,
The Fryer was glad as a Fox in his nest
fa, la, &c.
But one thing (quoth she) I do desire,
fa, la, &c.
Before you have what you require,
fa, la, &c.
Before that you shall do the thing,
An Angel of money thou shalt me bring,
fa, la, &c.
Tush (quoth the Fryer) we shall agree,
fa, la, &c.
No money shall part my Love and me;
fa, la, &c.
Before that I will see thee lack,
I'le pawn my grey Gown from my back
fa, la, &c.
The Maid bethought her of a wile,
fa, la, &c.
How she the Fryer might beguile,
fa, la, &c.
While she was gone the truth to tell,
She hung a Cloth before the Well;
fa, la, la, la, la,
fa, la, la, lang-tree-down-dilly.
THe Fryer came as his covenant was
fa, la, &c.
With money to his bonny Lass,
fa, la, &c.
Good mo [...]row fair Maid, good morrow, (qd. he)
Here is the money I promised thee;
fa, la, la, la, la,
fa, la, la, lang-tre-down-dilly.
She thankt the man, & she took his mony
fa, la, &c.
Now let us go too't, (qd. he) sweet honey
fa, la, &c.
Oh stay (qd. she) some respite make,
My Father comes he will me take;
fa, la, &c.
Alas (qd. the Fryer) where shall I run,
fa, la, &c.
To hide me till he be gone,
fa, la, &c.
Behind the Cloth run thou (qd. she)
And there my Father cannot thee see,
fa, la, &c.
Behind the Cloth the Fryer crept,
fa, la, &c.
And into the Well on a sudden he leapt,
fa, la, &c.
Alas (quoth he) I am in the Well,
No matte (qd. she) if thou wert in Hell;
fa, la, &c.
Thou say'st thou couldst sing me out of Hell,
fa, la, &c.
Now prithee sing thy self out of the well,
fa, la, &c.
The Fryer sung on with a pittiful sound,
Oh help me out, or I shall be drown'd;
fa, la, &c.
I trow (quoth she) your courage is cool'd
fa, la, &c.
(Quoth the Fryer) I never was so fool'd,
fa, fa, &c.
I never was served so before,
then take heed (qd. she) thou com'st there no more,
fa, la, &c.
(Quoth he) for sweet Saint Francis sake
fa, la, &c.
On his Disciple some pitty take,
fa, la, &c.
(Quoth she) Saint Francis never taught
His Scholars to tempt young Maids to naught;
fa, la, &c.
The Fryer did intreat her still,
fa, la, &c.
That she would help him out of the well,
fa, la, &c.
She heard him make such piteous moan
She help'd him out, and bid him be gone
fa, la, &c.
(Quoth he) shall I have my money again
fa, la, &c.
Which from me thou hast before-hand tane
fa, la, &c.
good sir (said she) there's no such matter,
I'le make you pay for fouling my water,
fa, la, &c.
The Fryer went all along the Street,
fa, la, &c.
Dropping wet, like a new-wash'd Sheep
fa, la, &c.
Both old and young commended the Maid
That such a witty prank had plaid,
fa, la, la, la, la,
fa, la, la, lang-tre-down-dilly.
Printed for W. Thackeray, and T. Passinger.