A merry Ballad of a rich Maid that had 18. severall Suitors
of severall Countries: otherwise called the scornefull Maid.
To the tune of, hoop do me no harme good man.
|
I Am a young lasse, and my time doth so passe,
|
That of late I did long for to marry,
|
I have for my deere five hundred a yeare,
|
And yet for all that I will tarry.
|
I had with a Scot, mickle mony I wot,
|
He strouted with Rapier and Poniard:
|
He is laid with fine lase, but I like not his face,
|
Ais feare he has lost his Whiniard.
|
Then came one from France who bravely could dance,
|
Hee is proper in every joynt:
|
Yet in his Country. he scapt well the P[e]e,
|
So well he did cut the crosse poynt,
|
A Signiour Spaniore, is late came ore,
|
And he thinkes that he hath no fellow,
|
As is hot in the Re[y]ne, and hath got a straine,
|
By dancing in a Bandello.
|
Then came a Duch-man can touse well the can,
|
Till his head be as light as a feather:
|
The Spaniard had's Punck, & the Dutch-man was drunk,
|
And so they went both together.
|
An Italian came post, and full well he can host,
|
But I like no such fond fellowes:
|
If I were his wife he should lead an ill life,
|
For I doe like none so jealous.
|
From Rome one came to me, who daily did wo me
|
He fasted three dayes in the we[e]ke,
|
But when prayer is done, if he spie a faire Nun,
|
His stomacke is wonderfull quick.
|
A troublesome Turke, did make hasty worke,
|
But his suite it was quickly ended:
|
I scornd his beliefe, and so to be briefe,
|
He did returne home offended.
|
Then next a brave Dane, came marching amaine,
|
But I a[n]swered him as the rest,
|
That he could not prevaile, so he hoyst up his saile,
|
For his nose could abide no jest.
|
From Ireland I had, a lusty brave lad,
|
Each Limbe was proportioned mighty:
|
Truth was he was poore) yet I gave him o're,
|
Cause his breath stunke of Aquavity.
|
From Swethland resorted, a man well reported
|
And he made a proffer to woe me:
|
His neck was so bigge, and so small was his legge,
|
That since he would never come to me.
|
From Rushia likewise, in antick disguise,
|
One came which did thinke to obtaine me:
|
But his hayre & his hood, against my minde stood
|
Therefore he shall never gaine me.
|
|
|
|
|
The Second Part of the scornefull Maide.
To the same tune.
|
A Grecian one day, my love did assay,
|
(Who standeth at every Church doore:)
|
I never respected though he me affected,
|
I had rather turne fidlers whore.
|
An Almaine Rut spide me, and presently tride me,
|
Who thought I would yeeld at the first:
|
But I could not abide he should lye by my side,
|
For some say they are divelish and curst.
|
From Pol did come hither in Summers hot weather,
|
He strutted and stalk't with a grace:
|
So soone as I spide him I could not abide him,
|
His nose was frozen of on his face.
|
He had a great minde, and was willing inclind,
|
No Nation so willing as those,
|
He swore and protested I gibed and jeasted,
|
And bad him goe get a new nose.
|
A Barbarian, a bigge bellied man,
|
Did profer to win me for's wife:
|
But I told him this, he should surely misse,
|
For I likt not his course of life.
|
From Amsterdame a vile Athiest came,
|
He was neither true Dutchman nor Pole:
|
But I doe reject all that are of that sect,
|
For I doubt me that hell hath his soule.
|
This baseminded Creature doth thinke that by nature,
|
Both heaven and earth is made:
|
He thinkes there's no hell, where Athiests must [dwell]
|
But my minde he shall not perswade.
|
A Gentleman of wales did tell her fine tales,
|
That her had a house built on a hill,
|
Had Pig and had Goat, and greene leek in the pot,
|
And could eat good Couse bobby her fill.
|
He would keep me so brave, if I would him have,
|
He would buy me a hood and a hat:
|
He would buy me fine hose, with garters and rose,
|
And sweet heart how like you of that.
|
A Englishman came, but I know not his name,
|
And he bravely could quaffe it an quarrell:
|
Hee'le drinke till he dye, some sayes, but not I,
|
And sell all his lands for apparrell.
|
If I would be his wife, he swore by his life,
|
Ere long he would make me a Lady:
|
He would sell his [au]ld manners to buy him new honors,
|
And thats but the trick of a baby.
|
Now which should I have, your councels I crave,
|
If you can but finde one will fit me:
|
The best I will take, and amends Ile you make,
|
If Cupid ere then doe not hit me.
|
|
|
|
|