An excellent New SONG, called, / The Intreagues of Love; / OR, / One worth a Thousand.

%ISOlat1; %ISOlat2; %ISOnum; %ISOpub; ]> An excellent New SONG, called, / The Intreagues of Love; / OR, / One worth a Thousand. University of California - Santa Barbara The Early Modern Center Director Patricia Fumerton ?-? Early Modern Center, University of California Santa Barbara Santa Barbara, CA 06/20/2014 32902

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Patricia Fumerton Early Modern Center - English Department University of California Santa Barbara, CA 93105 United States of America EMail: pfumer@english.ucsb.edu

1 To a pleasant New Tune. UNKNOWN To a pleasant New Tune. HOW happy are we, / when we meet with a Beauty, Information in this section of the Source Description refers to the original ballad manuscript. 1: 526 An excellent New SONG, called, / The Intreagues of Love; / OR, / One worth a Thousand. An excellent New SONG, called, The Intreagues of Love; OR, One worth a Thousand. An excellent New SONG, called, The Intrigues of Love; OR, One worth a Thousand. ?-? Charles Barnet

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Early Modern Center Ballad Project Keyword Taxonomy advice affliction/ health alcohol Americas animals/ nature Bible/ biblical figures buildings/ architecture catastrophe children class clothing/ appearance country/ nation crime death economics/ commerce entertainments family Featured folklore gender holidays/ seasons infidelity labor/ craft law London love maritime marriage military/ war monstrosity mythology/ Classical news nobility/ court politics/ government procreation punishment race/ ethnicity religious concepts religious figures religious groups royalty rural life servitude sex/ sexuality supernatural/ magic travel trickery/ deceit urban life vice violence virtue vulgar humor youth/ age Library of Congress Subject Heading Taxonomy 6/20/2014 Santa Barbara, California, United States of America sex/ sexuality trickery/ deceit vulgar humor Ballads, English 17th century Broadsides, England 17th century 6/20/2014 9:41:02 AM XBallad Saylor, Colton Created XML Version of Ballad 6/20/2014 9:41:02 AM Transcription Supervisor Meyer, Shannon Transcription of ballad manuscript 6/20/2014 9:41:02 AM Double-Key Comparison and Merging Meyer, Shannon Transcription of ballad manuscript 6/20/2014 9:41:02 AM Transcriptionist Two Yuen, Pui Transcription of ballad manuscript 6/20/2014 9:41:02 AM Transcriptionist One Becker, Charlotte Transcription of ballad manuscript 5/30/2013 Checker William Hildalgo Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 5/30/2013 Checker William Hildalgo Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 2/6/2013 Checker William Hildalgo Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 2/6/2013 Checker William Hildalgo Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 10/16/2012 Bibliographer Shannon Meyer Initial Ballad Catalogue Record Created

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HOw happy are we, When we meet with a Beauty, That is charming and free, and knows more than her Duty: Women they were made for men, The Gods above allow the same; But this cunning Creature Will not yield to Nature, Nor will let you dot, Unless you court her tot, And give her Gold to boot, But you, you must ever swear for to be true. But when the Guinea wins her, shes at your Devotion, Shell freely let you in Sir, and meet you in the motion; Tis then, if you behold her eyes, How they rowl when at the sport she lies; First, she turns the white, And then she shuts them quite, And then with all her might, She seems her Lips to bite, And swears youre her Delight, Such Joys sure she never felt the like before. And if you have but Gold Sir, with you shell be moving, She cares not though youre old Sir, she will be fond and loving, In Love shell pass the time away, And ask you all the night to stay,

And for your moneys sake, Shell hang about your Neck, And give a Kiss to please, And then your hand shell squeze, And look with dying Eyes, And swear, swear she dies if that you leave her there. When shes got your Treasure, and left you no money, Then you must wait her leisure, while another she calls Hunny; She minds not all the Oaths you swear, Although you vow you love her nere so dear But he that brings the Cole, Shall have my Ladys Hole, For money is the cry, Fine Rigging for to buy, Or else she will deny The toy, toy, the Cullies of the Town call joy. But wheres the Charming Beauty, thats constant and loyal, That loves and will be true to ye, when put to the tryal; Although youd Guineas give her down, Yet she no ways can be like the Town, For shell be just and true, And lye with none but you, While the jilting Whore ets you and thousands more, To do her oer and oer, And swears each is the man she does adore.

Printed for Charles Barnet.