Sir, faid fhe, what shall I do, If I commit this Evil, And yield my felf in Love with you; You talk of Ribbons, Gloves and Rings, Oh, let me first enjoy those things, And then you shall have your Pleasure. Sure thy Will fhall be obey'd, Said I, my own dear Honey, Full Forty Pounds in Money; All my Gold and Silver there Whose Waters are both deep and wide, Then my Heart was funk full low, For fear of being drowned; I began I began to stamp and stare, Like one that was quite diftracted. XXIX. The XXIX. The famous Flower of Ser ving-Men : Or, The Lady turn'd Serving-Man. To the Tune of, Flora's Farewell: Or, Summer time: Or, Love's Tide. Having now inferted all the Hiftorical Ballads which I had defign'd for this Collection, I will give my Readers a few of the best old Fabulous Songs, for fo I am oblig'd to call 'em; not that I think the Subject of them all the Invention of the Poet, but because I have not hitherto been able to trace them out in Hiftory. Perhaps, tho' written on Perfons of Note, yet being confin'd to Particulars, the Facts they treat of may have efcaped the Hiftorians; or perhaps, that being chiefly founded on amorous Intrigues, they would not, or durft not, take Notice of'em; or, which is as probable as any of the former Conjectures, perhaps I may havepaed 'em over. Nor can this always be accounted a Fault, for I believe it very poffible to read a Song, and the Story on which it is written at the fame time, yet not know that they both treat of the fame Thing; for being moftly compos'd in the Days of thofe thofe Perfons of whom they speak, our Poets have, to difguife Truth, blended Truth and Fiction fo much together, that without having been Perfonally acquainted with the Heroes and Heroines, 'tis impoffible to know them. Perhaps fome Perfons who are better acquainted with antique Stories, or have more Leifure upon their Hands, may, upon the perufing of this Story,difcover and bring the World acquainted with the King and fair Elife, whofe Praifes are here recorded. Yo YOU beauteous Ladies great and small, Whereby that you may understand I was by Birth a Lady fair, And then my Love built me a Bower, But there came Thieves late in the Night, They robb'd my Bower, and flew my Knight, And after that my Knight was flain, I could no longer there remain. My Servants all from me did flye, In the midst of my Extremity, And left me by my felf alone, With a Heart more Cold than any Stone. Yet though my Heart was full of Care, Heaven would not fuffer me to despair; Wherefore in hafte I chang'd my Name, From fair Elife to fweet William. And therewithal I cut my Hair, With a Silver Rapier by my fide, It was to be a Serving-Man. Thus in my fumptuous Man's Array, Then to the King I bow'd full low, That I a Serving-man's Place might have. Stand up, brave Youth, the King reply'd, But tell me first what thou canst do, Wilt thou be Ufher of my Hall, To wait upon my Nobles all? Or wilt thou be my Chamberlain, To make my Bed both soft and fine? Or wilt thou be one of my Guard, And I will give thee thy Reward? Sweet |