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Then use your wit, the maid replied,

For now you know the cause,
A maiden's No proves often Aye

To yield to Hymen's laws,
If you prove kind, the maiden said,

Consent and do not tarry,
And then I soon will change this tune,

And quickly yield to marry.

With that the young man bad her, but

Keep secret and prove kind, And he would verify her oath,

And satisfy her mind :
Quoth she, I will be satisfied

If that thou dost not vary,
But yet, in troth, I am very loath

To give my grant to marry.

With that they both concluded were,

But wot you how she sped,
By consequence it did appear

That it her liking bred,
For when her oath was verified

That she swore by King Harry,
She never stay'd, but quickly said,

Sweetheart now let us marry.

This young's man's love was quickly cold,

That here betwixt them past,
Quoth he, I will not be too bold,

Least I repent at last :
For he that weds too hastily,

Had need for to be wary,
Least he repent he

Without advice to marry.

gave consent

Fair maidens all take good advice

Before you give consent,
Unto your loves in any wise

These follies to prevent;
For she that to perform her vow,

So long a time did tarry,
Was brought to shame, and much defame,

Before that she did marry.




(From “ the Muses Garden. 1610."]

My father fain would have me take

A man that hath a beard,
My mother she cries out, a-lack !

And makes me much afraid,
Forsooth I am not old enough,

Now surely this is goodly stuff, Faith let my mother marry me,

Or else my father bury me,

For I have liv'd these fourteen years,

My mother knows it well,
What need she then to cast such fears,

Can any body tell !
As though young women do not know

That custom will not let them woo;
I would be glad if I might chuse,

But I were mad if I refuse.

My mother bids me go to school,

And learn to do some good, "Twere well if she would let the fool,

Come home and suck a dug, As if my father knew not yet

That maidens are for young men fit; Give me my mind and let me wed,

Or you shall quickly find me dead.

How soon my mother hath forgot

That ever she was young,
And how that she denied not,

But sung another song,
I must not speak what I do think,

When I am dry I may not drink; Though her desire be now grown old

She must have fire when she is cold.

You see the mother loves the son,

The father loves the maid ;
What, would she have me be a nun?

I will not be delay'd,
I will not live thus idle still,

My mother shall not have her will, My father speaketh like a man,

I will be married do what she can.


56 A rare example of a virtuous maid in Paris, who

was by' her own mother procured to be put in prison, thinking thereby to compel her to Popery: but she continued to the end, and finished her life in the fire."

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Tune in desperation.

was a lady's daughter,
Of Paris properly,
Her mother her commanded

To mass that she should hie :
O pardon me, dear mother,

Her daughter dear did say
Unto that filthy idol

I never can obey.

With weeping and wailing

Her mother then did go,
To assemble her kinsfolks,

That they the truth may know;
Who being then assembled

They did this maiden call,
And put her into prison,

To fear her therewithal.

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