The Mudcat Café TM
Thread #82650   Message #2911635
Posted By: Jim Dixon
21-May-10 - 06:56 PM
Thread Name: Lyr/Chords Add: A-Begging We Will Go
Subject: Lyr Add: A-BEGGING WE WILL GO
From Ancient Poems, Ballads and Songs of the Peasantry of England by Robert Bell (London: John W. Parker and Son, 1857), page 251:

A BEGGING WE WILL GO.

THE authorship of this song is attributed to Richard Brome—(he who once 'performed a servant's faithful part' for Ben Jonson)—in a black-letter copy in the Bagford Collection, where it is entitled The Beggars' Chorus in the 'Jovial Crew,' to an excellent new tune. No such chorus, however, appears in the play, which was produced at the Cock-pit in 1641; and the probability is, as Mr. Chappell conjectures, that it was only interpolated in the performance. It is sometimes called The Jovial Beggar. The tune has been from time to time introduced into several ballad operas; and the song, says Mr. Chappell, who publishes the air in his Popular Music, 'is the prototype of many others, such as A bowling we will go, A fishing we will go, A hawking we will go, and A hunting we will go. The last named is still popular with those who take delight in hunting, and the air is now scarcely known by any other title.'

1. There was a jovial beggar; he had a wooden leg,
Lame from his cradle, and forced for to beg.

CHORUS: And a begging we will go, we'll go, we'll go;
And a begging we will go!

2. A bag for his oatmeal, another for his salt;
And a pair of crutches, to show that he can halt.

3. A bag for his wheat, another for his rye;
A little bottle by his side, to drink when he's a-dry.

4. Seven years I begged for my old Master Wild,
He taught me to beg when I was but a child.

5. I begged for my master, and got him store of pelf;
But now, Jove be praised! I'm begging for myself.

6. In a hollow tree I live, and pay no rent;
Providence provides for me, and I am well content.

7. Of all the occupations, a beggar's life's the best;
For whene'er he's weary, he'll lay him down and rest.

8. I fear no plots against me; I live in open cell;
Then who would be a king when beggars live so well?