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EBBA 21233

Magdalene College - Pepys
Ballad XSLT Template
The Maidens Complaint against Young-Mens Unkindness.
Of Young-Mens falshood she doth much complain,
Resolving never to love Man again:
Experience tells her Men Love but for Fashion,
Which makes her rail against them in such passion.
To the Tune of, Cupids Courtesie.

I Am so deep in Love,
I cannot hide it,
It breaks me of my rest,
and of my quiet;
For when I see his face,
it so inflames me,
That I must love him still
though the World blames me.

O fie upon this love,
it will undoe me,
I'le ne'r love man again,
should the Gods wooe me:
For if that once I can
shake of this passion,
I'le ne'r love man again,
but only for fashion.

There's no belief in men,
though they seem civil.
For when they sit like Saints,
they think most evil.

Therefore be rul'd by me,
never trust no man.
But if you needs must love,
pray love a Woman.

I wish blind Cupid had,
been soundly sleeping,
When like a Crafty Lad,
he came so creeping:
To wound my tender heart,
and pierce my Marrow;
I felt his fatal Dart,
to my great sorrow.

Never poor Virgin was,
in such a taking,
I oft lookt in my Glass,
pleasure forsaking,
My cheeks are pale and wan,
my lips do tremble.
Because I lov'd a Man
that did dissemble.

O What a simple Girl,
I was for certain,
For to love Lord or Earl,
I will not hearken:
Not one in twenty Score,
but is deceitful:
Therefore i'le love no more,
Men are ungrateful.

It is their constant trade
to cog and flatter,
Or to delude a Maid,
her sort to batter:
But if they prate and lye,
i'le not believe them,
Such Love i'le never try,
although it grieve 'em.

They profess and pretend,
much of affection,
Until they make you bend,
to loves subjection:
Of your hearts craftily
they will berieve you,
Till a new face they spy,
then they will leave you.

Their words are all but wind,
like Winter weather,
Unconstant and unkind,
light as a feather:

I tell you short and plain,
i'le not abide it,
To love a man again,
once having try'd it.

Blame me not though I be,
somewhat in passion
For now I plainly see,
it is the Fashion
For such false-hearted men,
are grown so common,
That when I love again
i'le love a Woman.

Why should a Woman dote
on such a bubble;
That's good for nothing but
to procure trouble:
Every day I will pray:
for to live single,
That my affections may
with no mans mingle.

Ladies take my advice
you have rare features,
Always be coy and nice,
to such false creatures:
No man will constant prove,
no not my brothey,
Then if you needs must love,
love one another.


Printed for J. Clark, W. Thackeray, and T. Passinger

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