A pleasant new song called The cony barber, or, A young ladies delight, how she trim'd her maid, when she was on the straw asleep. To a pleasant new West-country tune. 1680-1685? Approx. 5 KB of XML-encoded text transcribed from 1 1-bit group-IV TIFF page image. Text Creation Partnership, Ann Arbor, MI ; Oxford (UK) : 2009-10 (EEBO-TCP Phase 1). B04733 Wing P2558 Interim Tract Supplement Guide C.20.f.8[70] 99887640 ocm99887640 183267

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 Early English books online. (EEBO-TCP ; phase 1, no. B04733) Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 183267) Images scanned from microfilm: (Early English books; Tract supplement ; A5:2[58]) A pleasant new song called The cony barber, or, A young ladies delight, how she trim'd her maid, when she was on the straw asleep. To a pleasant new West-country tune. 1 sheet ([1] p.) : ill. (woodcuts). Printed for P. Brooksby, [London : between 1680-1685] Verse: "Yea females draw near, some news you shall hear ..." Imprint suggested by Wing. Imperfect: cropped, affecting imprint. Reproduction of original in the British Library.

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 eng Ballads, English -- 17th century. 2008-04 Assigned for keying and markup 2008-08 Keyed and coded from ProQuest page images 2008-10 Sampled and proofread 2008-10 Text and markup reviewed and edited 2009-02 Batch review (QC) and XML conversion
A Pleaſant New Song called The Cony BARBER, Or, A young Ladies Delight, how ſhe trim'd her Maid, when ſhe was on the Straw aſleep. To a pleaſant new Weſt-Country Tune.

YEa Females draw near, ſome news you ſhall hear of a Lady that is very well known, She is one of the name, that is right for the Game but ſtrangely preſerved her own; Though tender in years, as it plainly appears No fear could her Faculty awe, For a Vow ſhe hath made to be one of the Trade; which hath made you laugh hah, hah hah, hah. No thoughts could expire her earneſt deſire a Cony Barber to be, With Inſtruments neat, and all things compleat in ſhort provided had ſhe, Her Powder in Box for perfuming your Locks, The beſt that ever you ſaw, Her Raiſor ſo kine if you had filted between, it would have made you laugh hah, hah, hah, hah. And likewiſe her Yeuer, there is none can procure in Fair or in City or in Town, Her Waſhing-Ball ſweet, if that you do meet, the like if you pleaſe to lye down, • er Siſſers and Come, will be ſure to reach home, 〈…〉 hair for to 〈◊〉 〈1 line〉 〈1 line〉 She can paint, ſhe can porl, criſp, powder and curl, The French or the Spaniſh Cut. Miſcheators or Bear, or what you will wear, each Hair in order ſhee'l put, For bruſhing, for rubbing, for lathering for frubing, Whether it be a Froſt or a Thaw, Her Water Pot, ſhe keeps always hot, for to make you laugh, hah, hah, hah, hah. When Febus addreſt, to view the North Weſt and Veſper had ſeal'd up the day, She was not afraid to make uſe of her Trade. in the place where ſhe uſed to play, Where ſhe found out a Maid, whom her ſelf had laid, Who ſoundly ſlept on the Straw, She gave her a trim, if you thither had bin, it would have made you laugh, hah, hah, hah, hah. She ſlumbred, ſhe, ſleept, ſhe ſighed and weept, ſtrange Viſions were inter inſear'd She ſeemed to ſpy, one ſhaving ſo nigh, who trimb of the Skin with the Beard, And likewiſe ſhe dreams, and alſo proclaims Some Rook or elſe ſome Iack Daw W 〈…〉 to the Fair, for to ſell of her hair 〈1 line〉 She was nimble and quick, though ſhe hath gotten the Trick yet ſhe dares not her fingers to knock Leaſt ſhe ſhould affright, the Slumber in wait, before ſhe had ordered her Lock; For betwixt the heaps, ſhe opened the Lips And found never a Tooth in the Iaw, She tripped away without any pay, that hath made you laugh, hah, hah, hah, hah. With weeping croſs, ſhe lamented her Loſs till the Cony Barber ſhe had found, And by a great name, had gotten the Fame throughout all the firſenty round, They wrangled, they jangled, they ſtrangely entangled Like Cats they ſcratch and they claw, It would a yield you delight, for to ſee ſuch a fight, and a made you laugh, hah, hah, hah, hah, This Barber complains ſhe ſo paid for her Pain and the Boys cryes it for a may-game, To her Mother ſhe goes for to puniſh all thoſe, who dares to give her that Name, Her Friends being wiſe, they thought to ſurpriſe The buſineſs while it was raw, To a Iuſtice they giſs, which was the way to ſuppreſs, and to make you laugh, hah, hah, hah, hah, Then a brave Troop of Horſe, provided there was. for to have the buſineſſes well ſkand You muſt think for a while, how his Worſhip did smile when firſt took the buſineſs in hand, He told the time, would extinguiſh the Crime, And the Boys would forget what they ſaw, Likewiſe time would repair, the loſs of that Hair; that hath made you laugh, hah, hah, hah, hah, Then Miſtreſs Tell-Truth would have taken her Oath, that this Maid ſtole one grain of her Wheat, And much to discover, to have her bound over, the art was more heinous then great, For his Worſhip knew well when Women Rebel No Iuſtice therefore could her awe For he bid them deride on every ſide; and burſt out with a hah, hah, hah, hah, This Maid ſtill ſaid, that ſhe would be paid for loſing the crop of her Field, The Fountain ſo near with a half yeare a better Cut might yield, For the Caves was ſo bare, that no action lay there Nor any Commencement in Law, For they rid out like Mome, and ſo they Rid home, which 〈…〉