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EBBA 30739

British Library - Roxburghe
Ballad XSLT Template
Lusty Fryer of Flanders;
How in a Nunnery at the City of Gaunt this Fryer got Thirty Nuns with Child in three Weeks
time, and afterwards made his escape.
To the Tune of, Cold and Raw.

NOt long ago from hence I went,
to travel into Flanders,
To learn the Art of War, was sent,
under those great Commanders;
At Gaunt I saw a pleasant fun;
as you shall hear hereafter,
Betwixt a Fryar and a Nun,
may well deserve your laughter.

The Fryar like a Jolly Dad,
a propagating Father,
Hid not the Talent which he had,
but chose to use it rather:
The Nun was pretty, young, and fair,
as if design'd for pleasure,
And pity 'twas that she should swear,
to keep her Virgin treasure.

Unto this Lusty Fryer she went,
and there her sins confessed,
Which he, unto her hearts content,
forgave and her released;
But this he said, before you rise,
for all your sad offences,
By good St. Francis, i'le Chastise
with Rods you Preter Tenses.

Her hinder Quarters up she turns,
and there she lay most fairly,
The Fryar now in Lust he burns,
and flaug'd her off most rarely:
Her prayers and tears at last pr[evail,]
upon the cruel Fryar,
That he'd no more corre[ct her tail,]
nor would he now den[y her.]

Thou pretty Nymph arise he said,
and let me now imbrace thee,
Bestow on me your Maiden-head,
fear not that i'le disgrace thee;
What tho' my Robe be black my d[e]ar,
my skins as white as may be,
And I have that has pleas'd i'le swear,
oh many a gallant Lady.

The Charming Nun then blushing said,
oh tempt me not to evil,
Have I not vow'd to live a Maid,
and to renounce the Devil,
But should I now commit this Crime,
and break my vow by sporting,
My belly will grow big in time,
and then you'll leave your Courting,

The Sin, my Dear, is Denial,
and to indulge is easie,
Sin on and i'le forgive you all,
my Love, if you'll but please me
But since you fear to breed young bones
i'le tell you for their Glory,
The Lady Abbess and her Nuns,
have done the like before you.

This Nun oh she grew big at last,
and dayly it increases,
And e'er ten months were fully past,
the Nuns fell all a pieces;
The crafty Fryer away he went,
that he should 'scape 'twas pity
And left behind a Regiment
of bastards to the City.

Thus he this Creature did beguile,
but tell me wan't he dirty.
Twenty nine Nuns he'd got with Child
and this made up the thirty:
He had a faculty to Cure,
each longing expectation.
So this religious Rascal sure
is able to stock a nation.

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