This was enough to make a Maiden sick
And full of Pain;
She begins to Fling and Kick,
And swore she'd rent her Smock in twain
But you shall hear anon,
There was a Man his name was John,
To whom this Maid she went alone,
And in this manner made her moan;
I prithee John tell me no Lie,
What ails my Dame to Squeak and Cry?
I prithee John tell me the same,
What is't my Master gives my Dame?
It is a Steel, quoth John,
My Master gives my Dame at Night:
Altho' some fault she find,
I'm sure it is her Heart's Delight:
And you Joan for your part,
You love one withal your Heart:
Yes, marry then quoth John,
Therefore to you I make my moan;
If that I may be so bold,
Where are these things to be sold?
At London then said John,
Next Market day I'll bring thee one.
What will a good one cost,
If I shou'd chance to stand in need?
Twenty Shillings, says John,
And for Twenty Shillings you may speed
Then Joan she ran unto her Chest,
And fetch'd him Twenty Shillings just;
John, said she, here is your Coin,
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