%ISOlat1; %ISOlat2; %ISOnum; %ISOpub; ]> An ANSWER / TO THE / Cook-Maid's TRAGEDY: / OR, THE / Lamentation of Thomas the Coach=man, / FOR / MARY the Cook-Maid, in COVENT GARDEN, / Who Poyson'd herself in Dispair for his sake. 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 08/31/2021 37397

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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

R172353 1 If Love's a sweet Passion, &c. If Love's a Sweet Passion If Love's a Sweet Passion, etc. ASsist m[e], you Muses, to make my sad moan, / Who am left in a otion of sorrows alone, In my conscience no comfort or quiet I have, / When I think how dear Mary was sent to the Grave. British Library - Bagford Editor none none none none Information in this section of the Source Description refers to the original ballad manuscript. 2: 55 2: 56 An ANSWER / TO THE / Cook-Maid's TRAGEDY: / OR, THE / Lamentation of Thomas the Coach=man, / FOR / MARY the Cook-Maid, in COVENT GARDEN, / Who Poyson'd herself in Dispair for his sake. An ANSWER TO THE Cook Maid's TRAGEDY: OR, THE Lamentation of Thomas the Coachman, FOR MARY the Cook Maid, in COVENT GARDEN, Who Poisoned herself in Despair for his sake. ?-? J. Deacon

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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 8/31/2021 Santa Barbara, California, United States of America Ballads, English 17th century Broadsides, England 17th century 8/31/2021 2:54:35 PM XBallad McCants, Kristen Created XML Version of Ballad 8/31/2021 2:54:35 PM Transcription Supervisor McCants, Kristen Transcription of ballad manuscript 8/31/2021 2:54:35 PM Double-Key Comparison and Merging Stark, Nicole Transcription of ballad manuscript 8/31/2021 2:54:35 PM Transcriptionist Two McCants, Kristen Transcription of ballad manuscript 8/31/2021 2:54:35 PM Transcriptionist One Anwar, Aisha Transcription of ballad manuscript 5/23/2019 Bibliographer Kristen McCants Initial Ballad Catalogue Record Created
<seg n="1" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">An ANSWER</hi></seg> <seg n="2" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">TO THE</hi></seg> <seg n="3" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">Cook-Maid's TRAGEDY:</hi></seg> <seg n="4" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">OR, THE</hi></seg> <seg n="5" rend="left">Lamentation of Thomas the Coach-man,</seg> <seg n="6" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">FOR</hi></seg> <seg n="7" rend="left"><hi rend="italic"><hi rend="bold">MARY</hi> the Cook-Maid, in <hi rend="bold">COVENT GARDEN,</hi></hi></seg> <seg n="8" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">Who Poyson'd herself in Dispair for his sake.</hi></seg> <lb/> <seg n="9" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">To the Tune of, <hi rend="bold">If Love's a sweet Passion,</hi> etc.</hi></seg>
ASsist m[e], you Muses, to make my sad moan, Who am left in a otion of sorrows alone, Where, alas! I am Shipwrack'd on Rocks of dispair, [For my passion I now am not able to bear:] [Not] an hou[r] nor minute of comfort I have, [Wh]en I think how dear Mary was sent to the Grave. I see mine own folly, now, now 'tis too late, And lament for dear Marys sad desperate state, Who was wounded, I know, by the Arrows of Love, When she took that strong Poyson her grief to remove: In my conscience no comfort or quiet I have, When I think how dear Mary was sent to the Grave. Her fancy young Cupid was pleas'd to confine, That her heart could not wander, 'twas constantly mine; Yet I needs must acknowledge I slighted her so, That it proved her ruin and sad overthrow: In my conscience no comfort or quiet I have, When I think how dear Mary was sent to the Grave. Whatever between us in private had past, Was unknown to the World, therefore clearly at last, I endeavour to smother and stoutly deny; Was there ever Young-man so ungrateful as I? In my conscience no comfort or quiet I have, When I think how dear Mary was sent to the Grave. I did my endeavour the same to conceal, But I now sad passionate torment do feel, Which bereaves me of all the delights of the World; With distracted confusion my thoughts they are hurl'd: In my conscience no comfort or quiet I have, When I think how dear Mary was sent to the Grave.
Now, now she lies sleeping, poor Soul, in the dust, Who was never faint-hearted, but loyal and just, While in [so]rrow her Thomas is left to complain; [But it is not my tears can recal her again:] In my conscience no comfort or q[uiet I have,] When I think how dear Mary was sent to the Grave. So soon as her presence she found I forsook, Straight a potion of Poison, poor creature, she took, To release her kind heart from the torment she felt, When she found like a false-hearted lover I dealt. In my conscience no comfort or quiet I have, When I think how dear Mary was sent to the Grave. Where-ever I wander she runs in my mind, And methinks that I hear her cry, Thomas unkind, Tell me, how could you flatter an innocent Maid? Thus I fancy I hear how she does me upbraid: In my conscience no comfort or quiet I have, When I think how dear Mary was sent to the Grave. Oh that I was able her Life to restore, Then I'd labour to honour and dearly adore My beloved dear innocent Mary, for why, Since she's dead, there's none so unhappy as I: But alas! all my sighs and sad tears are in vain, All the World cannot raise or recal her again.
FINIS. Licensed according to Order. Printed for J. Deacon, at the Angel in Giltspur-street, without Newgate.