A New and True BALLAD of the Poet's Complaint:
OR, A new Song to a new Tune, of a Young Wench living in
Holbourn, with a full discription of the notab
[...]e Tricks put upon her by two Cornuted Suitors.
Reader assure thy self the thing is true,
And though it seem full strange 'tis very true;
I wish such Gypsies fitted all as she,
Then would they learn much honester to be.
To a Pleasant new Tune, called,
I am Confirm'd, &c.
FAith i'm a Dog if I can guess
What strain will most obliege the Press:
'Mongst twenty several things, 'tis well,
If one in all the score will sell:
One thing alas is thought too stale,
Another is not fit for Sale;
Because the Poets modest Rhimes,
Are not so vicious as the Times.
In short, one reason is, I guess,
They know the Poet's Moneyless;
And they resolve to keep him so,
By feeding him with Snap and Go:
Another reason may be this,
They'l keep him Poor as he can Piss,
In hopes that in a while he may
Be forc'd to give his pains away.
But happen how it will, yet I
Once more resolved am to try
Wither I can provide a Sallat
That will but please your squeamish Pallat:
The Sauce is Tart, Meat fresh and new,
The Story no more strange then true;
Then welcome all, fall to I pray,
Much Good may't do you, Sirs I say.
In
Holbourn late a Wench did dwell,
Known by the Name of Bouncing
Nell;
Who Courted was by Suitors two,
For you must note one would not do:
She was a lusty strapping Iade,
And one that passed for a Maid;
And her two Friends the Devil take her,
Were a brisk
Taylor and a
Baker.
The Taylor after some dispute,
Provides this Lass a handsome Suit;
Some say 'twas made of Taylor's Cabbidge
Yet it was too good for the Baggage
Nay, this same Slut her self did tell,
Her Sweet-heart brought it out of Hell;
A place beneath his Shop-board, where
He us'd to put ill-gotten Ware.
The Baker loath to be behind,
Vnto his Dear prov'd not less kind;
And being pritty full of Money,
He bought a Ring to give his Honey:
Whereon as you must understand,
VVere lovers two claspt hand in hand;
VVhich made her promise he alone,
Should soon possess her as his own.
The Second Part,
To the same Tune.
BVt the false Gypsie meant not so,
As by and by you well shall know;
For three nights after this she had,
Another proper lively Lad:
VVho took possession of the thing
Promis'd the Baker for his Ring;
VVhich when the Baker understood,
He vowed revenge by all that's good.
He thereupon with speed did go
Vnto the Taylor late his Foe;
And with a witty brisk contrival,
Tells the whole Story to his Rival:
At which he swore he'd blow her down,
He would pull off the Gypsies Gown;
And the next time he did her meet,
VVould kick her up and down the street.
The Baker seeing him thus rage,
Speaks thus his fury to asswage;
VVe both are wrong'd alike, and I
VVill be revenged or will dye:
Let us work closely, then quoth he,
And make no noise, and you shall see,
VVe'l play a prank shall fit her well,
And make her wish her name not
Nell.
Things thus concluded, they agree,
To make no noise of what they see;
They were so true unto there trust,
That the poor Iade did not mistrust.
They notice took of wh
[...] was done,
But thought her self clear
[...]s the Sun:
But you shall hear this subtle Shaver,
VVith a slye trick did much beslave her.
They both went streight and knockt at door,
As if they'd not been there before;
And tells her now his friend and he,
VVere then resolved to agree:
And that a Supper was provided,
where this their case should be decided,
Let her choose one, the other he,
Should not controul her liberty.
Away she goes with these her friends,
VVithout mistrusting of their ends;
They took a Coach and did convey
Their Lady quite another way:
And made the Coach-man stop a while,
Without the town near half a Mile:
And took her forth immediately,
And thus began their Roguery.
The Baker cryes I understand,
Your Ladyship hath late took Man,
And since you are so hot 'tis meet,
Cold water should asswage your heat:
Of thy unfaithful Letcherous Tayle,
With that they both of them did trayle
Her to a little Pond there by,
And souz'd her very handsomly.
The Taylor being loath to be
Behind his friend in Courtesie,
Lends her his helping hand, and tyes
Her head and face between her thighs:
And minding to go through stitch,
Sticks a light Candle in her Breech;
And in that posture leaves with jeers,
Her with her Coats about her ears.
They thereupon took Coach, and pray
She'd make no more such Fools as they,
Lest the next time some other Man,
Shew her a worse trick ten to one:
The Wench at last got loose, but how,
In truth good Reader I don't know:
So sham'd she was at what was done,
That home again she never come.
Some say this Wenches Friends do dwell
Near
Derby hard by
Kelston-Well:
And that she is gone down to try,
To cure her Itching Letchery:
But others think the reason why,
She from her dwelling thus did flye,
VVas 'cause her shame flew in her face,
She left the Town to shun disgrace.
Printed for F. Coles, T. Vere, J. VVright, and J. Clarke.