A man cannot lose his money, but he shall be mocked too, OR, Suttle Male love to simple Coney, To make him an Ass to spend his money.  
To the Tune of Oh no, no, no, not yet.  
 

A Proper handsome young man,  
that dwelled in London City,  
Did woe a pretty Damsel,  
who was for him too witty:  
The youngman he had wealth good store,  
the Lass was poor, though bonny,  
She pleased his mind, with speeches kind,  
and all was for his money.   

A simple silly Coxcomb,  
he showed himself to be:  
All which the crafty Damsel,  
did well perceive and see;  
She pleased still his humour well,  
with words as sweet as honey,  
She showed him still, most kind good will,  
to make him spend his money.   

He was with love enchanted,  
and led into such folly,  
He never would be merry,  
but with his pretty Molly.  
To whom when he was come, she still  
would welcome say, sweet honey:  
Which words in mind, he took so kind,  
he cared not for-his money.   

She rolled him, she clipped him,  
she did his corpses embrace:  
And said her only pleasure,  
was viewing his sweet face.  
She told him that his breath and lips,  
more sweeter were then honey,  
Yet her mind ran, not on the man,  
so much, as on his money.   

And at their merry meetings,  
the youth would send for wine,  
And many pleasant junkets,  
for them to sup and dine:  
As Lamb, and Veal, and Mutton store,  
with Chickens, Larks, and Coney.  
Thus with her wiles, and tempting smiles,  
she made him spend his money.   

He gave her Gowns and Kirtles,  
and many costly things,  
As Girdles, Gloves, and Stockings,  
fine Bracelets, and gold Rings.  
For which he ne'er had naught from her,  
but Thanks mine own sweet honey,  
A kiss or twain was all his gain,  
for all his cost and money.   

And if he ere did offer,  
to do the thing you wot,  
When they two were in private,  
to him she yielded not.  
She told him 'twas unlawful,  
I prithee sweet and honey,  
Urge me not to't, for I'll not do't,  
introth for any money.   

Now what should be the reason▪  
think you, she was so coy?  
It was because another man  
her fancy did enjoy,  
And none but he alone, she swore,  
should have this Wench so bonny,  
Yet this fond Ass, so simple was,  
to fool away his money   

The second part.  
To the same tune.  
 

ALthough she had another,  
whom she had vowed to marry,  
Yet to this silly woodcock,  
herself she still did carry,  
As though she had intent at last,  
to make him her sweet honey,  
Yet all her drift, was by this shift,  
to get good clothes and money.   

And when she was supplied,  
with all that she did lack,  
And he had put brave raiment,  
all new upon her back,  
Him carelessly she slighted then,  
her heart to him was stony,  
She grew so proud, she scarce aloud  
a smile for all his money.   

So getting up one morning,  
she could no longer tarry,  
But sending for her other Love,  
with him she strait did marry.  
Now had she what she looked for,  
and so farewell my Tommy,  
My wedding Ring, and every thing  
thou boughtest me with thy money.   

Thus in deriding manner,  
at him she laughed and fléered,  
Which vexed sore the Youngman,  
when to his shame he heard,  
How he was for his kindness shown,  
accounted simple Tommy,  
And had disgrace, in every place.  
for spending of his money.   

He durst not walk for's pleasure,  
among other young men,  
But he was sure to hear on't,  
before he came again.  
And one would play with t'other in sport,  
with words as sweet as honey,  
To act the part of his sweet heart,  
who made him spend his money.   

This did so vex and grieve him,  
he vowed to be revenged,  
Quoth he, my Gown and Kirtle,  
ere long I'll have new fringed,  
Take heed you subtle Quean, quoth he,  
for it I light upon ye,  
I'll make you rue, that ere you knew  
one penny of my money.   

These words the Damsel heard on,  
and being always cunning,  
She spied him as he walked i'th' street,  
and to him she came running.  
She called him Rogue and Rascal base,  
you slave quoth she, I'll stone ye;  
And you Clown, I'll crack your crown,  
a pox of you and your money.   

Thus with her scolding speeches,  
his voice she overcame,  
He seeing of no remedy,  
did let it rest for shame.  
Let every honest youngman then,  
example take by Tommy,  
Lest they repent, when they have spent,  
upon a Wench their money.   
Finis.  
M.P.    

Printed for Francis Grove, dwelling on Snow-hill.