The witty Western Lass: OR,  
You Maids, that with your friends whole nights have spent,  
Beware back-falling, for fear of the event.  
To a new tune, called the Beggar Boy.  
 
 

Sweet Lucina lend me thy aid,  
thou art my helper and no other,  
Pity the state of a Téeming Maid,  
that never was Wife, yet must be a Mother:  
By my presage it should be a Boy,  
that thus lies tumbling in my belly,  
Yield me some ease to cure my annoy,  
and lift to the grief I now shall tell ye.   

I was beloved every where,  
and much admired for my beauty,  
Young men thought they happy were,  
who best to me could show their duty:  
But now alack, pain in my back,  
and cruel gripings in my belly,  
Do force me to cry, O sick am I,  
I fear I shall die, alack, and welly.   

Instead of mirth now may I weep,  
and sadly for to sit lamenting,  
Since he I loved, no faith doth keep,  
nor seeks no means for my contenting:  
But all regardless of my moan,  
or that lies tumbling in my belly,  
He into Sweathland now is gone,  
and left me to cry, alack, and welly.   

It doth the Proverb verify,  
folly it were to complain me,  
Those that desired my company,  
scornfully they now they disdain me:  
Wanting his sight, was my delight,  
and cruel gripings in my belly,  
Do force me to cry, O sick am I,  
I fear I shall die, alack, and welly.   

Thus am I to the World a scorn,  
my dearest friends will not come nigh me:  
Shall I then for his absence mourn,  
that for his dearest doth deny me?  
No, no, no, I will not do so,  
with patience I my grief will smother,  
And as he hath cozened me,  
so will I by cunning gull another.   

Incontinent to Troynovant,  
for my content I'll thither hie me,  
Where privately, from company,  
obscurely I'll lie, where none shall descry me:  
And when I am eased of my pain,  
and cruel gripings in my belly,  
I for a Maid will pass again,  
and need not to cry, alack, and welly.   

The second part,  
To the same tune.  
 
 

SOme Tradesman there I will deceive,  
by my modesty and carriage,  
And I will so myself behave,  
as by some trick to get a Marriage:  
And when I am married, I will so carry it,  
as none shall know it by my belly,  
That ever I have formerly  
had cause to cry, alack, and welly.   

And if he be a Husband kind,  
I'll true and constant be unto him:  
Obedient still he shall me find,  
with good respect I'll duty owe him:  
But if he crabbed be, and cross,  
and basely beat me, back and belly,  
As Vulcan's Knight, I'll fit him right,  
and scorn to cry, alack, and welly.   

A secret friend I'll keep in store,  
for my content and delectation,  
And now and then in the Tavern roar,  
with jovial Gallants, men of fashion:  
Sack, or Claret, I will call for it,  
I'll scorn to want, or pinch my belly,  
But merry will be in company,  
no more I will cry, alack, and welly.   

And if I cannot to my mind  
a Husband get, that will maintain me,  
I'll show myself to each man kind,  
in hope, that it some love will gain me:  
But yet so wary I will be,  
I'll shun from aught may wrong my belly,  
Through misery, to cause me cry,  
as formerly, alack, and welly.   

Had he I loved, but constant proved,  
and not have been to me deceitful,  
No subtle Sinon should have moved  
me to these odious courses hateful:  
But since that he proves false to me,  
not pitying that is in my belly,  
No more I will grieu●, but merry will be,  
and cry no more, alack, and welly.   

With resolution firmly bend,  
I'll cast off care and melancholy,  
Sorrow and grief, and discontent:  
to fret, and vex, it is but a folly,  
Or seek by woe to overthrow,  
or wrong the first fruits of my belly:  
No, no, no, no, I'll not do so,  
no more will I cry, alack, and welly.    Robert Guy. 
FINIS.   

Printed at London for I.W.