The forc'd marriage. Or, vnfortunate Celia. When old fools do a wooing go to those who are young-girls, they court their cruel foes, the old man sees he can't prevail with tongue, but finds t[h]at young ones, love to sport with young: he to the virgins parents makes redress, and doth the n[u]mber of his bags express; which takes away her fathers heart by stealth, he weds her not to him, but to his wealth. VVhich being done, she loaths his weak embraces, and throws herself on ruinous disgraces. Tune, Since Celia's my foe. Pope, Walter, d. 1714. 1676-1685? 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) : 2009-03 (EEBO-TCP Phase 1). B04784 Wing P2910 Interim Tract Supplement Guide C.20.f.8[158] 99887696 ocm99887696 183339

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 Early English books online. (EEBO-TCP ; phase 1, no. B04784) Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 183339) Images scanned from microfilm: (Early English books; Tract supplement ; A5:2[130]) The forc'd marriage. Or, vnfortunate Celia. When old fools do a wooing go to those who are young-girls, they court their cruel foes, the old man sees he can't prevail with tongue, but finds t[h]at young ones, love to sport with young: he to the virgins parents makes redress, and doth the n[u]mber of his bags express; which takes away her fathers heart by stealth, he weds her not to him, but to his wealth. VVhich being done, she loaths his weak embraces, and throws herself on ruinous disgraces. Tune, Since Celia's my foe. Pope, Walter, d. 1714. 1 sheet ([1] p.) : ill. (woodcuts). Printed for E. Oliver, at the Golden-Key on Snow hill, neer the Sarazens-head., [London] : [between 1676-1685] Verse: "To what great distress ..." Signed: By VV.P. [i.e. Walter Pope]. Place and date of publication suggested by Wing. Trimmed. Reproduction of original in the British Library.

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 eng Broadsides -- England -- London -- Early works to 1800. Man-woman relationships -- Early works to 1800. Marriage -- Early works to 1800. Ballads -- England -- 17th century. 2008-04 Assigned for keying and markup 2008-06 Keyed and coded from ProQuest page images 2008-07 Sampled and proofread 2008-07 Text and markup reviewed and edited 2008-09 Batch review (QC) and XML conversion
The Forc'd Marriage. Or, Ʋnfortunate Celia. When Old Fools do a wooing go to thoſe Who are Young-girls, they Court their cruel foes, The Old man ſees he can't prevail with tongue, But finds t • at young ones, love to ſport with young: He to the Virgins Parents makes redreſs, And doth the n • mber of his Bags expreſs; Which takes away her Fathers heart-by ſtealth, He weds her not to him, but to his Wealth. VVhich being done, ſhe loaths his weak embraces, And throws her ſelf on Ruinous Diſgraces.

Tune, Since Celia's my Foe.

TO what great diſtreſs Without hopes of redreſs, I am brought without Thought of a better ſucceſs. Poor Celia's undone, And all joys from her gone, By her Mate came ill fate, which poor ſhe could not ſhun. By Parents unkind, And with wealth too much blind Made me marry, and miſcarry, against my own mind. I lov'd one before, But they thought him too poor, They forc'd me, and divorc'd me from ſeeing him more. I have now got a man I muſt love if I can, But I fear my firſt dear, I muſt love now and than. If I chance to tranſgreſs, As I ſhall you may gueſs, You may ſhame me, not blame me, for not loving him leſs. My Husband's a Sot, Deform'd, and what not, All Day He's at play, with his Noſe o're a Pot. Whilſt I ſit at home, Like a poor ſilly Mome, Still crying, and dying, ti • my deareſt doth come.

WHen my fumbler's in bed, & has laid down his head, He lies with clos'd eyes, juſt though he was dead. Why ſhould he repine, If I ſpend ſtore of coyn, to aſſiſt whom I liſt, in my pleaſures to joyn. My friends are all mad, If at this they grow ſad, Why did they forbid, him that I would have had. 'Tis a dangerous diſeaſe, A Young woman to diſpleaſe, Ill matching is catching, and is ſeldom at eaſe. I care not who knows, Be they friends or falſe foes, i'le Delight, day and night, in ſpight of their Noſe. By firſt Love has my heart, And from him i'le ne'r ſtart, though i'm wed, Yet in bed, he ſhall have the beſt part. If my father do chide, And his kindneſſes hide, No anger nor danger my love ſhall divide. My mother does know, I have oft told her ſo, The old ſot I lov'd not when he firſt came to wooe. 'Tis a thouſand to one That before I have done, i'le deceive him, and leave him, to himſelf all alone. Ile venture the fame, Of a ſcandalous name, Before i'le give o're, to love one of the game. Ile be happy and poor, With the man I adore, Since fate makes me hate, the old Fop that hath ſto • e. 'Twas the ignorant curſe, Of for better, for worſe, Did me tye, till I die, to be true to his purſe. Ile venture my lot, And get free from my Sot, Young blood does me good, now my ſpirits are hot. Let Parents conclude, I behave myſelf rude, Their will to fulfil, did my reaſon delude. Let each pritty Maid, Who hath heard what i've ſaid, take care and beware, leſt by force ſhe's betraid. Let Parents provide, For each daughter a Bride, That nothing Of loathing, their loves may divide. FINIS.

With Allowance,

R. L'Eſtrange. By VV. P.

Printed for E. Oliver, at the Golden-Key on Snow hill neer the Sarazens-head.