The Crafty Maid: OR, The young Man put to his Trumpets.  

He did begin to Woo this Maid  
But she not believed one word he said;  
She put him off then, with a Jeer,  
And sent him away with a Flea in's Ear.   
To the Tune of The Despairing Maid: or, Fie Love, fie.  
 
 

IN moorfield's one Evening Tide,  
A pretty couple there I espied,  
A dainty young Man and a Lass,  
But you shall hear what came to pass,  
He straight began to court this Maid,  
And thought her heart for to betray:  
But she would not yield to his Desire,  
As by the Story you shall hear.   

To Compliment he did begin,  
The Maid's Affection for to win,  
With Speeches fair he did entreat,  
And often said his Heart would break.  
Quoth he, I am my Father's Heir,  
And have Threescore pound a year;  
I will maintain you gallantly,  
If thou wilt yield my Bride to he.   

Therefore I pray you be not coy,  
For thou shalt be my only joy,  
If thou deniest thou wilt break my Heart;  
For didst thou feel the deadly smart  
Which I sustain both day and night  
For thee, which art my Heart's delight;  
Therefore my Dearest pity me,  
Or I shall die for love of thee.   The Maid. 

Good Sir I thank you for your Love,  
Of your Discourse I don't approve;  
For many now a days I see,  
Do bring themselves to Poverty,  
By Marrying whilst they are so young,  
But I'll not do myself such wrong;  
Therefore forbear, thy Suit's in vain,  
I will not Marry I tell ye plain.   

You say you have Threescore pound a year,  
What if thou hast, I do not care,  
I knew those that had three times more,  
And spent it all upon a Whore,  
And so may thou for aught I know,  
For all you make so fair a Show,  
Then he content, and do not prate,  
For fear that I should break thy pate.   The young Man. 

The young Man standing in a mare,  
And on the Maid did strangely gaze,  
At last he made her this Reply,  
And unto her these words did say:  
What ails thee for to be to cross?  
In troth I like thee worse and worse,  
Of all the Maids that e'er I see,  
I never heard the like of thee.   

Sweetheart believe me, or else choose,  
I'd have thee know I am none of those,  
That spend my means upon a Whore,  
Or run upon the Alewives Score;  
No I will better be advised,  
It's good to be merry and wise;  
For Friends I see are very scant,  
If that a Man does come to want.   Maid. 

My Friend, quoth she, what you have said,  
Is not half true, I am afraid;  
I cannot think you're so precise,  
One may see plainly by your Eyes;  
Your Hair is of the Colour right,  
To cozen Maids is your delight;  
But thou shalt ne'er prove false to me,  
Or I will ne'er prove true to thee;   

Therefore forbear my Company,  
And henceforth come not me a nigh,  
For I am not resolved to Wed,  
Nor yet to lose my Maidenhead:  
A single Life is void of Care,  
For married Wives must pinch and spare,  
There Charge for to maintain I see,  
Therefore a single Life for me.   The Man. 

Saing thou provest so unkind,  
I am resolved to change my mind;  
A hundred pound I have in store,  
And Threescore pound a year more,  
If I can find an honest Girl,  
I'll prise her more than Gold or Pearl,  
And she shall live a Lady's Life,  
After she's Maid my wedded Wife.   

And so farewell, thou scornful Dame,  
In time thou mayest repent the same,  
That thou to me didst prove untrue,  
In time thou mayest have cause to rue;  
Before that I will Marry thee,  
I'll hang myself upon a Tree,  
Rather I'll give my Wealth and Store,  
To one that begs from door to door.   The Maid. 

Farewell, be gone, thou sawey jack,  
With thy Wealth and Money prithee pack,  
My Portion is an hundred pound,  
In Silver, and in good Gold so round,  
Besides my Mother she doth cry,  
I shall have all when she doth die,  
Then what need I care for thy Wealth?  
Then as thou sayest, go hang thyself.   

For I am resolved as I begun  
To end, and so conclude my Song,  
A single Life I hold it best,  
And thereon still my mind is pressed;  
For Marriage brings Sorrow and Care,  
So in it I'll not bear a share,  
Since young Men are so sickle grown,  
I am resolved to hold my own.   

So Maids of you I'll take my leave,  
Let no false young Men you deceive,  
For many they are hard to trust,  
Scarce one in twenty proveth just:  
I for my own part will advise  
All Maids henceforth for to be wise,  
And have a care who you do wed,  
For fear you bring a Knave to Bed.