(3)
With her lovers and courtiers ſhe was chaſte as a dove,
Though now I find ſhe is pack’d full of love,
By ſome of her gallants who has ſprung a leck of her,
O gin I were fairly ſhot of her, &c.
For I found the babe leaping as I lay by her,
I got to my breeches and run to the fire,
And ſwore that another had gotten a jot of her;
O gin I were fairly ſhot of her, &c.
But ſhe cried out, dear honey be kind,
There’s nought in my belly but a rolling of wind;
But ſtill it increas’d till the midwife got Jack of her,
O gin I were fairly ſhot of her, &c.
Then I ſwore by my cheeſe who had gotten the dunt of her,
Counting the date that I came to the front of her,
It was but four months ſince I got the firſt wap of her
O gin I were fairly ſhot of her, &c.
I got this fire ſcold at the back of the moor,
She’s dirty, and lazy, and ill to the poor,
For which I’ve got up and I’ve broken the back of her
O well’s me now for I’m fairly ſhot of her, &c.
O could the prieſt free me that knit us together,
I’d ſwear againſt marriage and ne’er have anither,
But ſhe may go to him who got the firſt wap of her,
For ſwear from this day I’ll be fairly ſhot of her,
Fairly, fairly, fairly ſhot of her,
Tho’ ſhe is not dead, I am fairly quit of her,
O well’s me now I am fairly ſhot of her.
The BUTCHER’S DAUGHTER.
COME liſten a while all you that love fun,
I’ll tell you a ſtory that lately was done,
’Tis of a young gallant as I do declare,
That a beautiful damſel wanted to enſnare.
Fal de ral, &c.
