# 'The Wanton Virgins Frightened, With the Spy's Downfal from the Tree-Top to the Pond-Bottom;

## OR THE

Old Man ftrangely Surprized and Bugbear'd by the Black Bandileers and Buff-Coats.

YOU that delight in a jocular fongs,
Come liffen unto me awhile fir,
I will engage you shall not tarry long,
Before it will make you to smile fir.

Near to the town there liv'd an old man,
Had three pretty maids to his daughters
Of whom I shall tell a story anon,
Will tickle your fancy with laughter.

The old man he had in his garden a pond,
'Twas in very fine summer weather,
The daughters one night, they were all very fond
To go and bathe in it together.

Which they all agreed, but hæppen'd to be
Espy'd by a youth in the houfe, fir,
Who got in the garden, and climb'd up a tree
And there lay as still as a moufe, fir.

The branch where he fat it hung over the
pond,

And each puff of wind made it totter;
Pleas'd with the thoughts he should fit so abfcond
And fee them go into the water.

When the old man was fafe in his bed,
The daughters to the pond went, fir,
One to the other two laughing ſhe faid,
As high as our bubbles we'll venture.

Upon the tender green grafs they fat down,
And they all were of delicate feature;
Each pull'd off her petticoats, ſmock, and
gown,

No fight could ever be sweeter.

Into the pond then they dabbling went,
So clean that they needed no washing;
But they were so unluckily bent,
Like boys they began to be daffing.

If any ſhould chance to fee us, fays one,
They'd think we were bobbing of evils,
And from the fight of us would quickly run,
To avoid so many white devils.

This put the youth into fuch a merry pin,
He let go his hold thro' laughter;
And as it fell out, he fell tumbling in,
And ſcar'd them all out of the water.

The old man by this time a noife had heard,
And roſe out of bed in a fright, fir,
And comes to the door, with a rufy old ſwor'd
There flood in a poſture to fight, fir.

The daughters they all came tumbling in,
And over their dad they did blunder;
Who cry'd out aloud, Mercy good gentlemen
And thought they were theives come to
plunder,

The noife by this time the neighbourhood hears,
Who came with long clubs to affift him:

He faid, three bloody rogues ran up ſtrain,
He dar'd by no means to refist 'em,

For they were cloathed all in buff,
He ſee as they ſhov'd in their shoulders,
And black bandileers hung before like a ruff
Which made him believe they were foldiers.

The virgins their cloaths in the garden had
left
And keys of their trunks in their pocket,
To put on the sheet they were fain to make
shift.

Their cheft they could not unlock it:

At laft ventur'd up the valiant men,
Tho' arm'd with courage undaunted;
But took them for spirits and run back again
And ſware that the houſe it was haunted.

As they retreated the young men they met,
Come flivering in at the door, fir,
Who look'd like a rat his cloaths dripping
wet,
No rogue that was pump'd could look
worfer.

All were amazed to fee him come in,
And afk'd of him what was the matter ?
He told them the ſtory where he had been
Which made them burſt into a laughter.

Quoth the old dad, I was in a huff,
And reckon'd to cut them afliunder,
Thinking that they had been three foldiers in buff,
And came there to rifle and plunder.

But they are my daughters whom I do adore
All frighted from private diversion,
Therefore I'll put up my rufy old ſword,
For why should I be in a paffon.

Printed and Sold in Aldermary Church-Yard, Bow-Land, London.