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EBBA 20107

Magdalene College - Pepys
Ballad XSLT Template
A Quip for a scornfull Lasse.
Or, Three slips for a Tester.
To the tune of Two slips for a Tester.

ALl you who have heard
How I did regard
a peevish disdainfull Lasse,
Who proud of her beauty,
Forgetting her duty,
did seeke to make me an asse:
Heare likewise my part,
Who have in my heart
resolv'd evermore to detest he,
Sith she was i'th fault,
I well may revolt,
and give her three slips for a tester.

There once a time was,
When I lov'd that lasse,
more deare then I did mine owne life
And firmely was bent,
If she would consent,
with speed to have made her my wife:
The foolish nice creature,
Lookt I should intreat her,
such madnesse and folly possest her:
No more Ile be vext,
My humour is fixt,
Ile give her three slips for a tester.

As she was to me,
To her will I be:
for so all my friends doe advise,
If I should her meet,
I would not her greet,
nor afford her a glance from my eies:
As I on the way
Was walking one day,
to meet me straight way she addrest her:
Which I to prevent,
A contrary way went,
and gave her three slips for a tester.

She came t'other day
To the house where I lay,
to speake with me was her desire,
She said that she would
See me if she could,
but I said I scorn'd to come nie her:
Yet thorow the glasse
I peept on my Lasse,
good Lord how brave she had drest her
In hope to allure,
But let her be sure,
Ile give her three slips for a tester.

She staid at the doore,
An houre and more,
to wait for my comming in sight:
At last I came to her,
But not like a wooer,
though once she was all my delight,
But that I was loath
To infringe mine oath,
I had gone very near to have kist her
She seemed so faire,
I could hardly forbeare,
yet I gave her three slips for a ttester.

What lacke you faire maid,
Unto her I said,
or what is your errand with me
She prayd me to come
To her father at home,
to which I deny'd to agree:
And made a reply,
That never more I
intended my mind to pester,
With any small thought
That concerned me ought,
but to give her three slips for a tester.

The second part. To the same tune.

AT last I went with her,
And so both together
did come where her father did dwell.
I wonder, quoth he,
That we cannot you see,
what have you forsaken my Nel?
Your daughters too fine,
Quoth I to be mine,
therefore tis in vaine to molest her:
Yet take this from me,
Ime as scornfull as she,
and Ile give her three slips for a tester.

Then she standing by,
Put finger i'th eye,
and sorely began to weepe:
Sir quoth the old man,
Doe all what we can,
where love cannot goe it will creep.
All this would not serve,
I still did reserve
my vow, & Ime glad that I mist her,
Thus I tooke my leave,
And they all did perceive,
I would give her three slips for a tester.

Yet since at a Wedding,
Where she came a gadding,
among other maids of the towne,
She came to the boord,
Of her owne accord,
and close by me she sate downe,
Thought I this is strange,
To see such a change,
I wisht that my tongue had a blister.
When I made that vow,
But I must keep't now,
and give her three slips for a tester.

It makes me to muse,
That she who did use
so much to reject me before,
Should follow me so,
Where ere I doe goe,
yet she hath incens'd me so sore,
My heart is so hard,
I cannot regard
her beauty which brightly doth glister.
I would have had faine
What now I disdaine,
I must give her three slips for a tester.

If I had not sworne
To hold her in scorne,
I would not so hardly deale with her.
Oh had she beene true,
As to lovers is due,
ere this we had maried together,
For me she shall stay,
Yet needs must I say,
that love is a sore that will fester:
I pity her state,
But helpe is too late,
I must give her three slips for a tester.

Let every mayd
Marke what I have said,
and leave off all scornfull disdaine,
Take love while tis profferd,
And time while tis offerd,
or else you may wish for't in vaine:
My love when time was
Did make me an asse,
and plaid upon me like a Jester:
But the worst is her share,
I scorne to take care,
but Ile give her three slips for a tester.


Printed at London for F. Grove. FINIS.

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