%ISOlat1; %ISOlat2; %ISOnum; %ISOpub; ]> Cupid's Courtesie: / OR, THE / Young GALLANT Foil'd at his own Weapon. / He scorned Cupid and his Dart, / Until he felt a wounded Heart. P., J. University of California - Santa Barbara The Early Modern Center English Broadside Ballad Archive (EBBA) Director Patricia Fumerton Associate Director Carl G Stahmer ?-? Early Modern Center, University of California Santa Barbara Santa Barbara, CA 04/04/2016 35405

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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

R228102 1 To a most pleasant Northern Tune Cupid's Courtesy To a most pleasant Northern Tune THro' the cool shady Woods, / as I was ranging, Information in this section of the Source Description refers to the original ballad manuscript. 1: 5 Cupid's Courtesie: / OR, THE / Young GALLANT Foil'd at his own Weapon. / He scorned Cupid and his Dart, / Until he felt a wounded Heart. Cupid’s Courtesie: OR, THE Young GALLANT Foil’d at his own Weapon. He scorned Cupid and his Dart, Until he felt a wounded Heart. Cupid's Courtesy: OR, THE Young GALLANT Foiled at his own Weapon. He scorned Cupid and his Dart, Until he felt a wounded Heart. P., J. Printer W.O. ?-? W.O. A.M

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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 4/4/2016 Santa Barbara, California, United States of America children love mythology/ Classical Ballads, English 17th century Broadsides, England 17th century 4/4/2016 1:47:13 PM XBallad King, Joyce Created XML Version of Ballad 4/4/2016 1:47:13 PM Transcription Supervisor Palmer, Megan Transcription of ballad manuscript 4/4/2016 1:47:13 PM Double-Key Comparison and Merging Levinson-Emley, Rachel Transcription of ballad manuscript 4/4/2016 1:47:13 PM Transcriptionist Two Chung, Daniella Transcription of ballad manuscript 4/4/2016 1:47:13 PM Transcriptionist One Cole, Marla Transcription of ballad manuscript 3/28/2016 Checker Erik Bell Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 2/12/2015 Checker Rachel LevinsonEmley Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 2/10/2015 Bibliographer Rachel LevinsonEmley Initial Ballad Catalogue Record Created 12/7/2015 Checker Alanna Bartolini Edited Ballad Catalogue Record
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Thro' the cool shady Woods, as I was ranging, I heard the pretty Birds notes sweetly changing; Down by a Meadow side, there runs a River, A little Boy I espy'd with Bow and Quiver: Little Boy tell me why thou art here diving? Art thou some Run-away, and hast no biding? I am no Run-away, Venus my Mother, She gave me leave to play, when I came hither.
Little Boy go with me, and be my Servant, I will take care to see for thy preferment. If I with thee should go, Venus would chide me, And take away my Bow, and never abide me. Little Boy let me know, what's thy name termed, That thou dost wear a Bow, and go'st so armed? You may perceive the same, with often changing, Cupid it is my name, I live by ranging.
If Cupid be thy name, that shoots at Rovers, I have heard of thy fame, by wounded Lovers. Should any languish that are set on fire, By such a naked Brat I much admire. If thou dost but the least, at my Laws grumble, I'll pierce thy stubborn breast, and make thee humble: If I with golden Dart wound thee but surely, There's no Physitian's Art, that e'er can cure thee. Little Boy with thy Bow, why dost thou threaten; It is not long ago, since thou was beaten: Thy wanton Mother fair, Venus will chide thee; When all thy Arrows are gone, thou may'st go hide thee. Of powerful Shafts you see, I am well stored, Which makes my Deity so much adored: With one poor Arrow now I'll make thee shiver, And bend unto my Bow, and fear my Quiver. Dear little Cupid be courteous and kindly, I know thou canst not hit, but shootest blindly. Although thou call'st me blind, surely i'll hit thee, That thou shalt quickly find, i'll not forget thee.
Then little Cupid caught his Bow so nimble, And shot a fatal Shaft which made him tremble. Go tell thy Mistress dear, thou can'st discover, What all the Passions are of a dying Lover. And now his gallant heart sorely was bleeding; And felt the greatest smart from Love proceeding: He did her help implore, whom he affected; But found that more and more him she rejected. For Cupid, with his Craft, quickly had chosen, And with a leaden Shaft, her heart had frozen; Which caus'd this Lover more sadly to languish, And Cupids Aid implore to heal his Anguish. He humble Pardon crav'd for his Offence past, And vow'd himself a Slave and to Love stedfast: His Prayers so ardent were, whilst his heart panted, That Cupid lent an ear, and his suit granted. For by his present Plaint, he was regarded, And his adored Saint his love rewarded: And now they live in Joy, sweetly imbracing, And left the little Boy in the Woods chasing.
London: Printed by and for W.O. for A.M. and sold by the Booksellers.