The Constant Country-Man.
Or, A Loving Dialogue between honest
Thomas and his True-Love
Nancy.
Tune is,
Woman Warrier.
Licensed according to Order.
Man.
PRitty
Nancy my love,
I adore thee above
All Lasses that e-e-e-e-e-e-e-ver I courted,
For thy bright shining eyes
Does my senses surprize,
And thy glory, thy glory, I long have reported.
Maid.
Nay, but
Thomas, she cry'd,
Then it seems you have try'd
Young Maids, having fla-a-a-a-a-a-a-tered many,
Which discovers that you
Are both false and untrue;
And will never, will never, be faithful to any.
Man.
I must needs speak the truth,
In the days of my Youth,
With Damsels I th-e-e-e-e-e-e-en took my pleasure,
But I'm now wiser grown,
And I love thee alone,
O, I love thee, I love thee, my dear out of measure,
Maid.
Men are crafty when young,
With a flattering tongue,
They commonly str-i-i-i-i-i-ive to deceive us,
When our hearts they have won,
To another they run,
Thus ungrateful, ungrateful, young Batchelors leave us
Man.
They are more than unkind,
That can be of that mind,
But for mine own pa-a-a-a-a-a-art I am loyal.
As a Token, I bring
Thee a delicate Ring,
Nancy therefore, O therefore, make no more denyal.
Maid.
Nay, your Ring you may keep,
Who have caus'd Maids to weep,
For my part I'm lo-o-o-o-o-oth to receive it,
You have long us'd the Trade
Of deceiving each Maid,
And I'm fearful, I'm fearful you never will leave it.
Man.
Loyal love, I declare,
And most solemnly swear,
No Creature now l-i-i-i-i-i-iving shall sever
My dear Iewel and I,
Then my Suit don't deny,
For I love thee, I love thee, I love thee for ever.
Maid.
Was I certain that you
Would be loyal and true,
My heart I would str-a-a-a-a-a-aightways surrender,
And a promise I'd give,
That as long as I live,
I would honour, I'd honour, and love my pretender.
Man.
Love, I vow and protest,
As I hope to be blest,
I never inte-e-e-e-e-e-nd to deceive thee,
But will love thee as life,
And thou shalt be my Wife,
As a Iewel, a Iewel, or Pearl I'll receive thee.
Maid.
By the Powers above,
I beiieve thee my love,
Therefore I my F-a-a-a-a-a-avours am showing,
Here is hand, heart and all,
In thy Arms do I fall,
Where a Million, a Million of Pleasures are flowing.
Printed for P. Brooksby, I. Deacon, I. Blare, and I. Back.