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EBBA 21182

Magdalene College - Pepys
Ballad XSLT Template
[D]ICK the Plowman
Turn'd Doctor.
OR, The Love-sick Maiden Cured.
Shewing how a Country Maid in Kent fell in love with her Fellow-Servant Dick the
Plowman, and how he Cured her Sick distemper.
To the Tune of, O Mother Roger, etc. This may be Printed, R. P.

Y Ou Maidens all of London City,
pray come nigh and lend an Ear,
And th'event of this my ditty,
to you all i'le make appear,
'Tis such a one will make you smile,
Make you smile. make you smile,
Then pray Maidens stay a while,
Some to hear't would come a mile
But your hopes i'le not beguile,
Nor your expectation spoil.

Near Rochester in Kent there lived
a brave lass whose name was Bess ,
Such a prank you ne'r did hear of,
as to you I will express:
'Tis such a one will make you smile,

Make you smile, make you smile,
Then pray Maidens stay a while,
Some to hear't would come a mile,
But your hopes i'le not beguile,
Nor your expectatoin spoil.

Now this Maid was brisk and merry,
and had all things at content,
Hold! I do forget to tell ye,
there was something that ill went:
To be short Sir, this is it,
This is it, this is it,
That this Maid was very sick,
Very, very, very Sick,
Sick indeed, but pray for what,
Oh! for somthing Dick has got.

Dick the Plowman he was busie,
and this Maid was sham'd to ask,
Yet she thought with prithee, prithee,
for to win him at the last:
Yet this was no perfect cure,
Perfect cure, perfect cure,
For her grief increased more,
More then e're it did before:
A nd sick she was, but pray for what,
Oh! for something Dick had got.

One day when Dick was very jolly
and as he was driving Plow,
Then he spy'd her melancholly,
ah! says Dick , how do you now,
Ah! quoth she, i'm very sick;
Very sick, very sick,
O what shall I do my Dick ,
I am very, very sick,
Sick, says Dick, I pray for what,
O, for something you have got.

And Dick 'tis you can only Cure me,
prithee do't before I go;
Good now Richard , pray assure me,
whether you will, aye or no:
My dear Richard , don't deny,
Neither from your promise flye;

For my grievous malady,
You can cure immediately,
Then pray now Richard give me that,
I need not name it, you know what.

Prithee Betty how should I know,
what the thing is that you mean,
Then he sighed and cry'd Hi-ho,
such a Fool was never seen:
I must languish here and dye,
Here and dye, here and dye,
And can't have a Remedy,
For my grievous mallady,
Was ever there so dull a sot,
That knows not yet what he has got.

When they had understood each other,
Dick for joy did leave his Plow;
Gave his Whip unto his Brother,
and he Swore he'd Cure her now,
Then unto her straight he goes,
And his skill to her he shows;
Brisk and blith she then became,
As any one upon the Plain:
Now Maids you see what Dick can do,
Then try if he can cure you too,

FINIS.

Printed for C. Dennisson, at the Stationers-Arms within Aldgate.

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