Ballads, 1629-58, by title:
The Batchelor's Feast [ZN240. entered 1633]
Be Patient in Trouble [ZN573. entered 1636]
A Compleate Gentlewoman [ZN3078. entered 1633]
The Dainty Damsel's Dream, or Cupid's Visions [ZN222] Click for text
Dead and Alive [ZN2532]
The Country Peoples Felicity; or a brief Description of Pleasure [ZN800. folksong.] Click for text
Cupid's Wanton Wiles [ZN409] Click for text
The Faithful Maid's Adventures [ZN1255]
The Famous Flower of Serving=Men [Child ballad #106, ZN2994. entered July 14, 1656. Click for text
The Famous Woman Drummer [ZN2076] Click for text
Flora's Farewell [ZN897]
Give me the Willow Garland [ZN237] Click for text
Good Ale for my money [ZN382] Click for Text
The Honest Age [ZN3091]
The Honour of Bristol [ZN352. on event of Sept, 1639. See Rollins' 'A Pepysian Garland', p. 455.] Click for text
Joy after Sorrow, being the Seaman's Return from Jamaica [ZN2520. of 1655. Source of tune title "Jamaica".] Click for text
Love's fierce desire, and hopes of Recovery [ZN1980. folksong] Click for text
The Mayden of London's brave Adventures [ZN536. entered Mar. 12, 1656]
The Maiden's Delight; or, a Dainty New Dialogue [ZN1199. entered Sept. 1656]
The Maids Revenge upon Cupid and Venus [ZN3061. entered 1656]
The Matchless Shepard Overmatched by his Mistress [ZN833. entered May, 1656. Imitation of "Fain I would" in Folk Music Journal, 1980]
The merry=conceited Lasse [ZN1242]
The Merry Man's Resolution [ZN1919. entered 1656]
A Monstrous shape; Or a shapeless Monster [ZN2104. on Tannaken Skinker the hog-faced lady, revived in the 19th century. Probable entry in 1639.]
A New Merry Dialogue betweene John and Besse [ZN1183. entered May, 1656] Click for text
A new Spanish Tragedy [ZN109. entered 1639. Tune "Angel Gabriel" from Price's ZN352, not from carol (of 1639) with same title, ZN2878 (whose tune is "I'll never love thee more")] Click for text (Note tune derivation at source is incorrect).
News from Hollands Leager [ZN3117. on a brothel]
O Gramercy Penny [ZN2856]
Oyle of Barly = Good Ale for my Money, [ZN382] Click for Text
The Quaker's fear [ZN2008. entered 1656] Click for text
Robin Hood's Golden Prize [Child ballad #147, RZN11. Entered June, 1656] Click for text
Rock the Cradle John [ZN2491. entered Nov. 1631]
Round, Boys, indeed [ZN1138. 1637?]
The Seaman's Compass [ZN302. entered June 26, 1657]
Seldome Cleanly [ZN808]
The Sinners Redemption (All you that are to mirth inclin'd [ZN112] no early copies known, but this ballad (and traditional carol) of 1634 could well be by Price. It is to tune named from one of Price's ballads, and is really rather similar to it.
Strange and Wonderful News of a Woman... [ZN760. of Feb., 1655]
Tis a wise child that knows his own father [ZN1902]
The True=Lovers' Holidaies [ZN1855]
The true manner of the life and death of Sir Thomas Wentworth ...beheaded the 12.. of May, 1641. [ZN3426]
Two fervent Lovers [ZN306]
The Two Jeering Lovers [ZN606. entered May, 1656]
A Warning to all lewd Livers [ZN1789. by Price, not Parker.]
A Warning for all Wicked [Livers?] [ZN2125]
A Warning for Married Women [Child ballad #243. ZN2466. Entered Feb. 21, 1657. Click for text
A Wonderful Prophecy declared by Christian James [ZN1767 entered 1656]
A Wonderfull wonder [ZN1715. of Aug. 1655]
The Young Man's Wish [ZN2811. entered 1638]
[?] [ZN831. no first part, 2nd part commences:] Even as the fly that dies in flame. Chorus: But let them hang me at the door if ever I dote upon them more. [Chorus indicates this to be an expansion of Suckling's "I am confirmed a woman can love this or that or any man". A fragment found in a folk play could be from Suckling's song or Price's ballad]
[?] [ZN3134. main title shorn, continues:] By the direction of the scriptures; F. Grove
Win at first, Lose at Last (questionable because only late copies attribute it to L. Price) [ZN2982] Click for text
Chapbooks:
A Map of Merry Conceits; [chapbook, E. C. for F. Grove, 1656: not located, ref. Hazlitt's 'Handbook', II, 1. At end is song to "Last Christmas 'twas my chance".]
A Variety of New Riddles [issue of 1684 cited in Hazlitt's Handbook, I]
Witty William of Wiltshire [1674 issue cited in Hazlitt's Handbook, I]
The Witch of the Woodlands [1656. Hazlitt, Handbook, I cites issue of 1674. Later copies without date or Price's name abound. See Ashton Chapbooks, Harvard catalog, NLS Lauriston Castle coll'n Catalog, Brit. Lib. for two more.]
A Weapon of Defence aginst Sudden Death [chapbook, Brit. Lib. issue of London, 1656. Same, but different issue in Brit Lib. is 'A Ready Way to prevent Sudden Death', 1655]
The vertuous wife is the glory of her husband [chapbook. British Lib. issue of 1667. U. of Wisconsin has slightly later undated issue printed by A. P for T. Passinger]
A new Disputation between two lordly Bishops [Brit. Lib. issue of London, 1642]
A New Way of Conference [chapbook in Brit. Lib. issued by R. Burton, 1641. Burton later pt'd many ballads]
The Shepherd' Prognostication [chapbook on the predicted eclipse on 'Bug-bear Black Monday' Mar. 29, 1652. Price, unlike some did not predict disasters, which ran the gamut all the way to the end of the world. See also 'The Astrologers Bug Bear'.]
Strange Predictions related in the North of England [chapbook, Brit. Lib. London, 1648]
A New Dialogue between Dick of Kent and Wat the Welshman [Brit. Lib., London issue of 1654]
The Most Pleasant History of Bovinin being an addition to.. history of Crispin [by T. Deloney] [chapbook, Brit. Lib. issue of 1656]
The Most famous History.. of Parismus [chapbook, Brit. Lib. London, 1649]
A Key to open Heaven's gate: or, a ready pathway to lead to Heaven [chapbook. original apparently lost. reissue from Stirling of 1804 in NLS Lauriston Castle coll'n bears Price's name, as does an n.p.n.d. copy at Newcastle [#392 in Frances Thompson's 'Newcastle Chapbooks', 1969] Brit Lib. has Glasgow issue of 1736]
Here's Jack in a Box [chapbook, Brit. Lib. issue of 1657. Hazlitt, II, cites a T. Vere issue of 1657 which may be the same.]
Great Britains Time of Triumph [chapbook, Brit. Lib., issue of 1641]
Fortune's Lottery [chapbook, not located. Hazlitt, I, cites issue of 1657]
Five Strange Wonders [chapbook, early issue not found. Heber Catalog, Hazlitt cites Wm. Whitwood issue of 1674. Late copies omit Price as author, e.g. Harvard Catalog #2394. Also in the Thackery list of chapbooks]
The Famous History of Valentine and Orson [chapbook, Heber Catalog notes issue by Wm. Whitwood of 1673. Late copies omit Price's name: NLS-Lauriston Castle coll'n; Harvard Catalog #593-4]
A Famous City turned into Stone [chapbook on 'Angrogra in Barbary'. from Hazlitt's Handbook II, a T. Vere issue of 1657]
England's Glory [chapbook, Brit. Lib. - 1656. Hazllit, II -Tho. Jenkins issue of 1656. Folger Shakespeare Lib. has issue of c 1672.]
England' Unhappy Chances [chapbook, from Hazlitt, a F. Grove issue of 1648]
Bloody Actions Performed [chapbook, copy in Brit. Lib., but I didn't get imprint. Hazlitt, I, cites issue by Wm. Gilbertson, 1653. This is then one of Gilbertson's earliest publications.]
Make Room for Christmas [chapbook, Rollins, CP p. 160 cites copy of 1656; Hazlitt, I, an issue of 1657, Ebsworth - 1675. Some good songs in this were reprinted later.]
The Astrologers Bug Bear [chapbook, Brit. Lib., issue of 1652. See also 'The Shepherd's Prognostication']
Click for text
There dwelt a fair Maid in the West,
of worthy birth and Fame,
Neer unto Plimouth stately Town,
Jane Renalds was her name.
This Damsel deerly was beloved
by many a proper Youth,
And what of her is to be said,
is known for very truth.
Amongst the rest a Sea-man brave
unto her a wooing came;
A comely proper Youth was he,
Iame[s] Harris was his name.
This Maid and Youngman were well agreed
as time did them allow:
And to each other secretely,
they made a solemn vow.
That they would ever faithful be,
whilst Heaven afforded life:
He was to be her Husband kind,
and she his loving Wife.
A day appointed was also,
when they were to be married:
But before these things were brought to pass
matters were strangely carried.
All you that fatal Lovers be,
give ear and hearken well;
An what of them became at last,
I will dirictly tell.
The Young-man he was Prest to Sea,
and forc'd he was to go;
His Sweet-heart she must stay behind,
whether she would or no.
And after she was from him gone,
she three long years for him stayed,
Expecting of his coming home again,
and kept her self a Maid.
At last came news that he was dead
within a Foreign Land,
And how that he was buried,
she well did understand.
For whose sweet sake the Maiden she,
lamented many a day,
And never was she known at all
the wanton for to play.
A Carpenter that lived hard by,
when he heard of the same,
Like as the other had done before,
to her a Wooing came.
But when that he had gain'd her love,
they married were with speed;
And four years space being man & wife
they lovingly agrreed.
Three pretty Children in that time,
this loving Couple had;
Which made their Father['s] heart rejoyce
and Mother wondrous glad.
But as occasion serv'd one time,
the Good-man took his way,
Some three days journy from his home
intending for to stay.
But whilst that he was gone away.
a Spirit in the night,
Came to the window of the house,
and did her sorely fright.
Which Spirit spake like to a man,
and unto her did say.
My dear and only love (quoth he)
prepare and come away.
James Harris is my name (quoth he)
whom thou didst love so dear,
And I have travelled for thy sake,
at least this long seven year.
And now I am returned again,
to take thee to my wife;
And thou with me shall go to Sea,
to end all further strife.
O tempt me not sweet
with thee away to go;
If I should leave my Children small
alas what should they do.
My Husband is a Carpenter,
and a Carpenter of great fame,
I would not for five hundred pounds,
that he should know the same.
I might have had a Kings Daughter,
and she would have married with me,
But I forsook her golden crown,
and all for love of thee.
Therefore if thou wilt thy husband forsake,
and thy children three also,
I will forgive all that is past,
if thou with me wilt go.
If I forsake my Husband, and
my little Children three,
What means hast thou to bring me too,
if I should go with thee.
I have seven Ships upon the Sea,
when they are come to Land,
Both Mariners and Merchandize
shall be at thy command.
The Ship wherein my Love shall sail,
so glorious to behold:
The Sails shall be of the finest Silk,
and the Masts of shining Gold.
When he had told her these fair tales,
to love him she began:
Because he was in humane shape,
she thought he had bin a man.
And so together away they went,
from off the English shore,
And since that time the woman kind,
was never heard of more.
But when her Husband he came home.
and found his wife was gone,
And left her sweet pretty Babes
within the house alone.
He beat his brest, he tore his hair,
the tears fell from his eyes,
And in the open streets he run,
with heavy doleful cryes.
And in this sad distracted case
he hang'd himself for woe,
Upon a tree neer to that place,
the truth of all is so.
The Children now are fatherless,
and left without a guide;
But yet no doubt but heavenly powers,
will for them well provide.
Finis,
L.P.
Printed for F. Coles, T. Vere, and W. Gilbertson.
[Entered in Stationers' Register to Francis Grove, Feb. 21, 1657. The copy above is the earliest extant, and is of 1663-4, shortly after Grove died.]
[Child ballad #106, below.]
Her Lord being slain, her Father dead,
Her Bower robb'd, her Servants fled;
She drest her self in Mans attire:
She trimm'd her Locks, she cut her Hair;
And therewithal she chang'd her Name,
From Fair Elise to Sweet Willaim.
To a delicate new Tune, Or, Flora Farewel. Summer time. Or, Loves Tide.
You beauteous Ladies great and small,
I write unto you one and all,
Whereby that you may understand
What I have suffered in this Land.
I was by birth a Lady fair,
My Fathers chief and onely Heir.
But when my good old Father dy'd,
Then was I made a young Knights Bride.
And then my Love built me a Bower,
Bedeckt with many a fragrant flower;
A braver Bower you never did see,
Then my true Lover built for me.
But there came Thieves late in the night,
They broke my Bower, and slew my Knight,
And after that my Knight was slain,
I could no longer there remain.
For all my servants from me did fly,
I'th midst of my extremity,
And left me by myself alone,
With a heart more cold then any stone.
Yet though my heart was full of grief & care,
Heaven would not sufferr me to despair,
Wherefore in haste I chang'd my name,
From fair Elise to sweet William.
And therewithall I cut my hair,
And drest my self in Mans attire;
My Doublet, Hose, and Beaver Hat,
And a golden Band about my Neck.
With a silver Rapier by my side,
So like a Gallant I did ride:
The thing that I delighted on,
Was for to be a Serving-man.
Thus in my sumptuous mans array,
I bravely rode along the way;
And at the last it chanced so,
That I unto the Kings Court did go.
Then to the King I bowed full low,
My love and duty for to show,
And so much favour I did crave,
That I a Serving-mans place might have.
Stand up brave Youth the King reply'd,
Thy service shall not be deny'd;
But tell me first what thou canst do,
Thou shalt be fitted thereunton.
Wilt thou be Usher of my Hall,
To wait upon my Nobles all?
Or wilt thou be Taster of my Wine,
To wait on me when I do dine?
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
Said to the King, If't please your Grace,
To shew such favour unto me,
Your Chamberlain I fain would be.
The King then did his Nobles call,
To ask the Counsel of them all;
Who gave consent sweet William he,
The Kings own Chamberlain should be.
Now mark what strange things come to pass
As the King one day a hunting was,
With all his Lords and noble train,
Sweet William did at home remain.
Sweet William had no company than
With hime at home, but an old man;
And when he saw the coast was clear,
He took a Lute which he had there.
Upon the Lute sweet William plaid.
And to the same he sang and said,
With a pleasant and most noble voice,
Which made the old mans heart rejoyce.
Sweet Williams Song.
My father was as brave a Lord,
As any Europedid afford;
My Mother was a Lady bright,
My Husband was a valiant Knight.
And I myself a Lady gay,
Bedeckt with gorgeous rich array:
The bravest Lady in the Land
Had not more pleasures to command.
I had my music every day,
Harmonious Lessons for to play:
I had my Virgins fair and free
Continually to wait on me.
But now alas my Husband is dead,
And all my Friends are from me fled:
My former joyes are past and gone,
For I am now a Serving-man.
The End of Sweet Williams Song.
At last the King from hunting came,
And presently upon the same
He called for the good old man:
And thus to speak the King began.
What news, what news, old man (quoth he)
What news hast thou for to tell me;
Brave mews the old man did say,
Sweet William is a Lady gay.
If this be true thou tellest me,
Ile make thee a Lord of high degree:
But if thy words do prove a lye,
Thou shalt be hang'd up presently.
But when the truth the king had found,
His joys did more and more abound;
According as the old man did say,
Sweet William was a Lady gay.
Wherefore the King without delay
Put her on glorious rich array,
And upon her head a Crown of Gold,
Which was most famous to behold.
And then for fear of further strife,
He took sweet William to his Wife;
The like before was never seen,
A Serving-man to be a Queen.
FINIS L.P.
Entred according to Order.
London, Printed for John Andrews, at the White Lion near
Pye-Corner.
[Entered in the Stationers' Register to Andrews, July 14, 1656.] [Source of tune title]
A Voyage to
Jamaica he pretends:
But at his
coming home he makes her amends.
To an excellent new Tune, called, my love is gone to Bohemy, or, Wet and weary
There was a maid as I heard tell
which fell in desparation,
She lov'd a young man passing well,
which brought her in vexation:
The Young-man had the Maid beguil'd,
the matter so was carried,
For he had gotten her with Child
before that they were married
Which caus'd this Maid to make great moan,
and often times to speak so,
[Cho.] My belly is up and my heart is down,
and my Love is gone to Jamaica.
He was my joy and hearts delight,
and well my mind contented,
But now hee's gone out of my sight,
I surely am tormented:
Whilst he with me was living here,
heaven knows I lov'd him dearely,
But now my heart will burst with care,
it toucheth me so nearly.
I sigh, I sob, and I make great moan
the cause wherefore I speak so &c.
My Love was wondrous kind and free,
when as first he came a woing,
And many good gifts he gave to me,
because he would be doing:
My Love gave me a Beaver Hat,
methought it was brave and bonny,
And a gallant Love=fancy to weare in it,
which cost five pound in mony:
but now I weeep and make great moan,
the reason why I speak so &c
My Love gave me a Silken Gown,
with rich and costly Laces,
Ther's not a braver in the Town,
it all the rest surpasses:
My Love gave me a gay gold Ring,
and Bracelets made of Amber,
He also gave me a better thing,
when he had me in his Chamber.
I sigh, I sob, and I make great moan,
the reason why I speake so,
My belly is up and my heart is down,
for my Love is gone to Jamaica.
My Love gave me a Holand smock
and bid me for to wear it
One night twixt ten and eleven a clock
I'm sure he did not teare it:
My Love gave me a feather bed,
to lye on when I was weary
On which he had my Maiden-head
when he had made me merry
but since dame fortune she doth frown
this makes me sigh and speak so,
My belly is up and my heart is down
and my Love is gone to Jamaica.
And since that time I am possest,
with many grief I tell ye
In head, in side in back and breast,
but chiefly in my belly:
Oh that my Love were here againe,
I'm sure he would befriend me,
And use a meanes to cure my pain,
and take a course to mend me
I sigh, I sob, and I make great moan,
the reason why I doe so &c.
If I had Icarus wings to flye,
I doe so greatly mind him,
Then I would leave beyond the Seas,
and seeke till I could finde him,
If that he were in France or Spain,
or else in high Spaniolo.
I'de surely meet with him again,]
so closely would I follow.
The Indies and the Wildernesse,
and hollow caves I'de seek to,
And every place both more and lesse,
belonging to Jamaica.
Thus many a woful day and night
the Damsel lay lamenting,
Before her love appear'd in sight
to yield her hearts contenting:
But mark what hapned [sic] at the last
when she so long had mourned,
The bonny Lad she lov'd best,
safely from Sea returned.
But when she heard her true-love speak
she knew him by his tongue Sir,
Her heart did in her belly leap,
and about his neck she flung Sir.
Good Lord what kissing there was then,
with friendly kind embraces,
Untill the joyful tears of them
ran down each others faces:
The very night when this was done
as is for certain spoken,
She was delivered of a Son,
a fair and goodly token,
Whereby she alters soon her tune
her fancy made her speak so,
My heart is up and my belly is down,
and my Love is come from Jamaica.
Soon after that the Seaman bold,
he having of mony plenty,
Cast in her lap ten pounds in gold.
and halfe crown pieces twenty:
And since that time they married are,
whereby their joys are double,
And now she sings with a merry cheer,
being free from care and trouble.
My sorrows all are past and gone,
which makes me sing and speak so,
My hart is up and my belly is down,
and my Love is come from Jamaica.
FINIS L. P.
Printed for Tho. Vere, at the signe of the Angel, without New-gate
Tune, Jamaica; B238: Click to play
Original in Wood Collection, E. 25 fol. 60, Bodleian Library, Oxford, here from copy in MLA rotograph collection, Library of Congress. This song gave the tune "Jamaica" its title. This copy alone is subscribed with the initials of Laurence Price as author, and is probably earlier than the other known copy (by the same printer) in the Rawlinson collection, Bodleian Lib., Oxford, and may be an original edition. Under the commonwealth's restrictions on, and then prohibition of, broadside ballad publication, only six broadside ballads were entered in the Stationer's Register from 1641 to March 12, 1656, when a flood of entries started. This quickly tapered off, but over the next few years many ballads originally composed and illegally printed earlier were first entered in the Stationers Register. This ballad was entered March 25, 1656, although written the previous year.
The somewhat erratic punctuation in "Joy after Sorrow" is typical of originals, and is usually silently corrected by editors of reprints. I have also left in some obvious errors by the typesetter. There remain some lines which still make little sense to me, and I leave it to you to correct them according to your interpretation of them.
The Thirty Years War (including the Bohemian War) which involved most of Europe is usually given as 1618-1648, but was actually longer. Although the Peace of Westphalia was of 1648, England and a few other countries were not represented in it, and even major principals disagreed on provisions, and the war continued for many countries during the deliberations on conditions. The final treaty and actual conclusion of hostilities was not until 1654, so the tune citation for the following ballad is not nearly as incongruous as it first seems.
Play: B238
Shewing the ready way of sweet content,
By them that ply their work with
merriment,
They eat, they drink, they work, and
sport at pleasure
They pipe and dance, when time and place
give leasur,
To a dainty new tune, called The Hay-makers Mask.
Down in a meadow
the River running clear,
All in the moneth of July,
the prime time of the year,
Where many a pretty little fish,
within the Brook did play
And many a Lad, and many a Lass,
abroad were making Hay.
In came the Sithes-men,
to mow the Meddow down,
With their Band and Bottles,
and Ale that was so Brown,
The labouring men with courage bold,
to each other did reply,
Let's work, and blow, and stifly mow
the Grass cuts very dry.
Then nimble Tib and Thomas
with pitchfork and with Rake,
Came in the merry Meddow green,
the Hay in Cocks to make.
Where each one ply'd their labor,
and did no whit repine,
The gentle wind blew fair and cool,
the Sun did cleerly shine.
Mary, Bess and Nanny,
in Scarlet Petticoats,
Kept singing at their labors,
with sweet and pleasant noats,
Sweet jug, jug, jug, jug, jug, jug, jug,
the Nightingale did sing,
Whose noble voice, made all rejoyce;
as they were Hay-making.
Then Robin, Ned, and Richard,
being in a merry vain,
To furtherr the Hay-making,
run nimbly over the Plain.
And came into the Meddow,
with courage and delight,
And ply'd their businesse stoutly,
whilst Phoebus shined bright.
Rowland and sweet William,
and John upon that day,
Brought pretty Kate and Bridget,
to help them make the Hay.
Fair Margaret, Sue and Francis,
they stayd not long behind,
But for to todd and turn the Hay,
they were every one inclin'd.
The second part to the same
tune.
Now when those Lads and Lasses
were all together that day
In that same gallant Meddow,
a making of the Hay:
They ply'd their work so closely,
and labored so compleat,
Untill the pretty Maidens brows,
did drop a pace with sweat.
The young-men in like manner,
drew forth their Handkerchiefs then,
To wipe the Maidens faces,
like loving hearted men.
No hurt was done amongst them,
but now and then a kisse,
The young-men gave their sweet-hearts
you know no harm's in this.
At last when bright Phoebus,
the Sun was going down,
A merry disposed Piper,
approached from the Town,
And with his Pipe and Tabor,
he did so trimly play.
So that they all laid down their Tools,
and left off making Hay.
Then each man took his Sweet heart,
their fortunes to advance,
John with Nell, and Nan
with Will,
and Tib with Tom did
dance,
No rare nor braver pastime
could be under the Sun,
Then from the morn to evening
was in the Meddow done:
Now thus for the Countrey folks
I dare be bold to say,
Which in the merry Meddow,
that time were making Hay;
No ill act was committed,
nor no ill businesse wrought,
Would every one in London were,
as pure in Deed and Thought:
Some of you London Lasses,
flants up and down in jags,
With Copper Lace, and painted face;
silk Scarfs, and gay black Bags:
In my mind are not so wholsom,
so hansome nor so fair:
As are the Countrey Damsels plain
that nere such toyes did wear.
FINIS. L. P.
London, Printed for Francis Grove, on Snow-hill.
A few verses are familiar from the singing of the Copper Family, but theirs is by no means the only traditional version.
The dainty Damsel's Dream,
Or,
Cupid's Visions.
The Maid saw such strange Visions in her sleep,
When she awak'd it forced her for to weep;
She dreaming lay, and thought her Love lay by,
But he, alas! was not at that time nigh.
Then list and you shall heare the Damsels
Dream,
And afterwards what followed the same.
To the Tune of, As she lay sleeping in her bed.
As I lay on my lovely bed, I fell into a dream,
God Cupid he attended me, and straight upon the
same,
The Chamber wherre I lodged in, me-thought, was all on fire,
Then Mars and Jupiter came in, with
wrath and furious ire.
After came Venus with her train of Nimphs most fair
and bright,
And prickt my heat in every vein, much like to kill me quite;
I knew no reason why their rage and anger should be so,
"Why then," quoth Venus, "to thy selfe, thou art a
mortall foe.
"There is a young man loves thee dear, and now is like to
dye,
Because for him thou dost not care; that is the reason why,
That thou art punished so sore, here in thy naked bed,
And if thou wilt not yeeld to love, we mean to kill thee
dead."
"Fair Queen," quoth I, "grant me this boon I may so happy be,
For to present him to my view that I the man may see:
And if that I can fancy him, there is no more to do,
But I will yeeld to be his love, and kisse and hug him too."
With that the flames all quenched was, and all the coasts was
cleare,
And then a proper hansom youth did in my sight appeare;
Like young Adonis in his prime this gallant seem'd
to be,
Of courage bold, and valour brave, and fortitude, was he.
The Second Part to the same Tune.
His face like to an Angel's was, his eyes like starrs did
shine,
In every part from top to toe, he seemed a Saint divine,
His sweet perfumed honied breath did bear so rare a smell,
The richest odors in the world for s[c]ent it did excell.
With courtely words and compliments he did mee kindly greet,
Crossing my lips ten thousand times with kisses soft and
sweet;
In his right hand a purse of gold he had, and did me give,
And told me I should never want such Coyn whilest I did live.
It ravished my senses all, and set my heart on fire,
His countenance for to behold it made me to admire!
So that I much desired then to have his company,
His comely person to imbrace as I in bed did lie.
His hose and doublet he stript off, and came into my bed,
Saying that he must master be, and have my maiden-head;
Good luck! how willing then was I his love to entertain:
The thought of action moved me in every limb and vein.
When all my vitals thus were rais'd, and ready for the sport,
Cupid and Venus stole away and so broke
up the [Court]. 'sport'
Even so departed all the Nimphs, and straight upon the same
I wak'd and wept, because I saw all things was but a dream.
Fie upon dreams, and fond delights, which thus disturb the
mind!
'Tis better for to bee awak'd, and exercise by kind.
When as I dream'd I had a love, and gold, and pleasure store;
But when I wak'd, I saw none such, which makes me grieve the
more.
Finis. L. P.
London, Printed for John Andrews, at the White-Lyon, in Pye- corner.
[See "Maiden's Dream" in Scarce Songs 1 for analogues. Tune is B452.]
Give me the Willow-Garland;
Or, The Maidens Former Fear, and later Comfort.
At first whe for a Husband made a
longing moan,
But at the last she found a loving
one.
To a dainty new Tune, called, Give me the Willow
Garland
As I walked forth
in the merry month of June,
To hear the Nightingale
sing her best tune:
I spied a young
Maid,
which sighed and
said,
My time I have wasted in vain,
Much love I have
spent,
which makes me
repent,
On them that holds me in disdain:
Take pity quoth she,
some gentle body,
Give me the Willow-garland,
for none will have me.
I am in my conscience
full fifteen years old,
Yet still go unmarried,
which makes my heart cold:
there's many you
see,
that's younger than
me:
that suckles sweet babes at the breast:
that lives at their
ease,
and carries the keys
Of many a fair Cupboard and Chest:
Take pity, &c.
Some men will give handkerchiefs,
some will gloves,
And some will give Bodkins,
to purchase maids loves:
but I like a friend,
my money did lend,
And never did ask it again:
And them that
received,
in whom I believed,
Have put me to sorrow and pain:
Take pity, &c.
When William at first
came wooing to me,
Good Lord then how jocond
and frollick was he,
he clip'd me, he kis'd
me,
he hug'd me in his
arms,
He promis'd to make me his wife;
but he was mistaken,
and I am forsaken,
Which causes much sorrow & strife:
Take pity, quoth she,
some gentle body,
Give me the willow-garland,
for none wil have me.
The next that came to me,
was smirking fine Thomas,
And like sweet William,
did make me a promise,
but when this young
Lad,
his will of me had,
He gave me a Judas-like kiss,
so parted away,
the truth tis to
say,
I ne'r saw him from that time to this.
Take pity, &c.
Then John the brave Gallant,
with a Sword by his side,
Came to me, and told me,
he'd make me his bride:
but in this brave
Youth,
I found but small
truth,
Although he did vow and protest,
to me to prove true,
yet he bad me adieu,
and prov'd quite as bad as the rest,
Take pity, &c.
There was Richard and Robert,
both came on one day,
But they like the others
soon vanish'd away:
And since that time,
while spring was in
prime,
I have had of suitors great plenty,
I dare to be bold,
if they were all
told,
That they were at least 3 & twenty:
Take pity, &c.
Now seeing that fortune
hath me so much crost,
That all my old Sweet-hearts
are quite gone and lost,
my self Ile commend
to God Cupid my
Friend,
And to him will heartily pray,
to send me a love,
that constant will
prove,
And never to straggle away:
Take pity, &c.
There's nothing at all
that belongs to a man,
But in a short warning
well fit him I can:
I have Silver and
Gold
which my Father never
told,
I have very good cloaths to my back
I have House and
Land
and goods at
command,
'Tis only a Husband I lack.
Take pity, &c.
You see how my Visage,
is grown pale and wan,
You well may perceive
'tis for want of a man:
my Pulses do beat,
and my body does
sweat,
And my sences are all at great strife
my belly doth ake,
and my heart\strings
will break,
If I cannot be made a wife.
Take pity, &c.
Make me a willow Garland,
or else marry me,
At last came a young man
of courage most bold,
Saying, sweet heart, I care not
for Silver nor Gold:
but if thou wilt
prove
like the Turtle-
Dove,
Right faithfull and true to thy friend,
then I will be
thine,
and thou shalt be
mine,
And I'le love thee unto my lives end.
Your Servant, quoth she,
my True-Love, quoth he,
Clap hands on the bargain,
and so we'l agree.
And now this young woman
is eas'd of her pain,
For she never after
was known to complain.
He made her his
wife,
And she lives a brave
life,
Attyred in garments most brave,
And all things at
will
her mind to fulfill,
At every command she'l now have,
Her husband is kind,
they are both of a mind,
According as Nature,
and Love doth them bind.
Farewel now quoth she,
to the green Willow-tree,
I have got a
Husband
that well pleaseth me.
L.P.
Printed for F. Coles, T. Vere, J. Wright, and J.
Clarke.
Loves fierce desire, and hopes of Recovery,
Or, A true and brief Description of two resolved Lovers,
whose excellent wits, suitable minds, and faithful hearts
one to another, shall here fully be spoken of in this follow-
ing new made Paper of Verses.
To a delicate new Tune, or, Fair Angel of England.
Now the Tyrant hath stolen,
my dearest away,
And I am confined
with Mopsa to stay.
Yet let Celia remember
how faithful I'le be
Neither distance nor absence
shall terrifie me.
Whole volumes of sighs
I'le send to my Dear,
And make my own heart
correspond to my fear,
Till the soul of my life
may pleased to see
How delightfull her latest
returned is to me.
It cheers my sad heart
to remember her love,
Though malice hath caused
this sudden remove.
And my mind is resolved,
whatever ensue,
Whether Sun-shine or Thunder,
to be constant andd true.
If my Bark sayl but safely
through this rugged Sea;
Though with contrary winds
much tossed it be:
In the Haven of rest
and long-look'd-for contents,
Wee'l chant forth melodious
songs of merriment.
Till then Ile retreat to
the Forrest and mourn,
Acteon shall echo
my hound and my horn
No Reynard shall escape me
that runs on the way
But patience perforce
I will make him to stay.
My heart hath enquired
of every stone.
What convoy the heavens
hath bequeath'd to my moan,
But for ought I can find
holy Angels are agreed
To rival my hopes,
and to slacken my speed.
Therefore Ile sit down and
bewail my sad state,
Like the Turtle Ile mourn
for the loss of my Mate.
All the worlds greatest glories
be vexation to me,
Till Celia and I
in our loves may be free.
The second Part, To the same
tune.
Celia her sweet Reply to her faithfull Friend.
Thy presence dear Friend
I have well understood.
And how in exile
thou hast wandred the Wood:
But I am resolved
thy sorows to free,
To make thee amends
I'le soon come unto thee.
'Tis neither the Tyger,
the Wolf, nor the Boar,
Nor shall the Nylus Crocodile
put me in fear,
Ile swim through the Ocean
upon my bare brest,
To find out my Darling
whom I do love best.
And when I have found him,
with double delight
Ile comfort him kindly
by day and by night.
And Ile be more faithfull
than the Turtle-dove,
Which never at all did
prove false to her Love.
The fierce Basilisko that
kills with the eye,
Shall not have the power
once thee to come nigh.
Ile clip thee and hug thee
so close in my arms,
And Ile venture my life for
to save thee from harms.
My lap for thy head, Love,
a Pillow shall be,
And whither thou dost sleep
Ile be carefull of thee.
Ile wake, and Ile watch and
Ile kiss thee for joy.
And no venemous creature
shall my Love annoy.
The Satyrs shall pipe
and the Syrens shall sing,
The Wood-nimphs with musick
shall make the Groves ring.
The Horn it shall sound,
and the Hounds make a noyse,
To fill my Loves heart with
ten thousand rare joys.
So now I am coming
to hasten the deed,
Pray Heaven and good Angels
to be my good speed.
If fortune me favour, and
Seas quiet prove,
I soon will arive at
the Port whom I love.
Now Celia is gone to
finde out her Dear,
Her heart that was sad
to comfort and cheer.
No doubt but each other
thye will lovingly greet,
When as they together
do so lovingly meet.
L. P.
F I N I S.
London, Printed for Tho. Vere,
at the Sign of the Angel without Newgate
To the Tune of, Shee cannot keepe her, &c. [legs together]
Blind-fold Cupid with his Dart, did a long time strive to
hit me,
Yet he shall not pierce my heart, I know better how to fit
me;
His decree shall not be any way to my disparriage:
I will strive how to thrive, and to keepe my selfe from
marriage.
Cupid's slights and cunning trickes never in relaps shall
bring me,
To be drowned in Love's pits, no aspiring boy shall fling me.
Hee's a foole in Love's Schoole, and meere simple in his
carriage,
That will dally, and say, Shall I now incline to wanton
marriage?
Cupid is a subtill wile, and hath many projects used,
The ripest wits for to beguile, many are by him abused:
Let no man trust him then, lest he doe their states
disparriage,
I advise you to be wise, and keep your selves from wanton
marriage.
To speake of Cupid to the matter, as I intend, if time
gives leasure:
He will cog, deceive and flatter, if you in his wayes take
pleasure;
He will make you to take such strange courses in your
carriage:
Which will be your misery, if you incline to wanton
marriage.
Cupid is become a Gallant, and will tempt a brave yough
Shaver,
On fond love to spend his talent, and besides, a false
deceiver
He is [then] when foolish men doth intend to change their
carriage,
For we see often he crosses young men in their
marriage.
The stoutest Champion Cupid danteth, & doth bring the
boldest under:
The meanest man he then advanceth, and, to fill us more with
wonder,
He can move Maids to love, though nere so modest in their
carriage,
And will vexe [the] Female sexe to bestow themselves in
marriage
The Second Part, To the Same Tune.
Noble Lords, Kings and Princes, Cupid bound in his
subjection;
Beauteous Ladies he convinces, they must yeeld to his
direction;
He will still use his skill, though it breeds a great
disparriage,
Therefore I, till I dye, meane to keepe my selfe from
marriage.
Guy of Warwicke, brave and bold, travel'd far to
gain his Philice:
Cupid kept his heart in hold; Hector, though he met
Achilles,
Cupid prest, with the rest, though it breeds a great
disparriage,
Thus he can force each man to bestow him selfe in
marriage.
Some Cupid takes at unawares, in the bed where they lye
sleeping;
Some he catcheth in his snares, as they on downes their flocks
are feeding:
Every sort, Clowne and Court, stoops to Cupid in his
carryage,
No delay can him stay, if he appoint the time of
marriage.
High & low, poore & rich men, strong, the weake, the simple
creature:
If Cupid's Arrowes doe but twitch them, & they bridle not
his nature,
It will grow great in show, therefore I wish men in carrydge,
To prevent this torment, and looke before they leape to
marriage.
If thou art old, be more wiser, let no blind God so deceive
thee:
Learne this embleme of a Siser, lest Cupid doe of joyes
bereave thee:
If thou beest young, doe not wrong thine own state in such a
carrydge:
Have a care, and beware, lest thou repent thy hasty
marriage.
Now to finish and conclude, I exhort all that are single,
In your chusing be not rude, when you doe with Hymen
mingle.
Liberty, as we see, is a life of lovely carrydge,
Therefore I, till I die, will absent my selfe from
marriage.
Finis. L. P.
Printed at London for John Wright the Younger, dwelling in the Old-Bayley.
The eighth verse mentions a child born to the woman drummer, on the 16th of July. This was in 1655, and the woman drummer was a Mrs. John Clarke. Another ballad on this is ZN3084 in the broadside ballad index, where the inn that she gave birth at is identified as the Black-Smith's-Armes in East Smithfield.
The famous Woman Drummer;
Or,
The valliant proceedings of a Maid which was in Love with a
Souldier,
and how she went with him to the wars; and also of many
brave actions
that she performed, after he had made her his
wife: that here be
exprest in this ensuing Ditty.
To the tune of, Wet and Weary.
Of a Maiden that was deep in love with a Souldier brave and bold
sir,
I'le tell you here as true a tale, as ever hath been told,
Sir;
And what brave actions she perform'd, after she was his Wife,
Sir;
And how she did behave her selfe, to save her Husband's life,
Sir:
She marcht with him, in
wet and dry, in Winter and in Summer,
For he was then a Musketier,
and she became a Drummer.
When first this couple fell in love, a bargain she did make,
sir,
That when that he had need of her, she would not him forsake,
sir;
And so they went for two Comrades, most lovingly together,
And plaid their parts most actively, like two Birds of one
feather.
She marcht with him, in
wet and dry, &c.
She had got man's apparel on, gay doublet and brave hose,
sir;
And manfully she beat her Drum, her enemies to oppose, sir;
And she was daintily bedeckt, according to her Colours:
And she was like a man indeed, just to great Mars his
followers.
She marcht with him, in
wet and dry, &c.
They have both been in Ireland, in Spain, and
famous France, sir,
Where lustily she beat her Drum, her honour to advance, sir,
Whilst Cannons roar'd, and bullets flye, as thick as hail from
sky, sir,
She never fear'd her forraign Foes, when her Comrade was nigh,
sir;
She marcht with him, in
wet and dry, in winter and in summer,
Her husband was a Musketier,
and she was then a Drummer.
In every place wherre she did come, she shew'd herself so
valiant;
And few men might compare with her, her actions were so
gallant;
She manage could her sword full well, and to advance a pike,
sir;
But for the beating of a Drum, you seldome saw the like, sir.
In frost and snow, in wet
and dry, in winter and in summer,
Her husband was a Musketier,
and she a famous Drummer.
She beat with three men at one time, and won of them a wager;
And had not one strange chance befell, she would have been Drum-
major,
Her belly it began to swell, and she grew plump and jolly,
But she us'd all the means she could, wherreby to hide her
folly.
She marcht by day and
marcht by night, in winter and in summer,
And still they took her for a
man, she was so stout a Drummer.
In company she would merry be, and sometimes sing a song, sir
And take Tobacco oftentimesm and drink strong Beer among,
sir;
If any one had angred her, or done her any evill,
Shee'd quickly make them for to know, they were better cross the
Devil.
Near Tower-hill she
quartered was, in famous London Citie,
No more strange news I have
to tell before I end my ditty.
But she was grown so big with child, which made her fellow
wonder,
An in a short time after that, poor soul! she fell asunder,
But when her painful hour approacht, (I do not lie or
flatter,)
The women cut her codpeece-point, to see what was the matter.
But to be brief, it came
to passe, as I must tell you truly,
She was delivered of a Son,
the sixteenth of July.
The women were all kind to her, whilst that she was in
labour,
Because she was a Souldier's wife, they shew'd to her much
favour.
They furnished her with everything, as meat and drink and
clothing,
For child-bed linnen and the like, they let her want for
nothing.
Her Husband was a
Muskettier, and she a lusty Drummer,
It seems they soundly plaid
their parts, in Winter and in Summer.
Let no man nor woman think that shee hath been dishonest;
But what she did was done in love, as she before had promist,
To keep her husband company, the truth of all was so, sir,
And pleasure him, both day and night, wherever they did goe,
sir.
Her Husband was a
Muskettier, and she a famous Drummer.
It seems they ply'd their
business well in Winter and in Summer.
You Maidens all that hear this song, consider what is told
here,
Concerning of this woman kind, that dearly lov'd a Souldier:
If you with Souldiers be in love, I wish you to be loyal,
For they to you will faithful prove, if you put them to the
trial,
Her Husband a Muskettier,
and she a famous Drummer, &c.
For Love is such a powerful thing, if it be rightly given,
There cannot be a better gift under the copes of Heaven;
So now, brave Souldiers all, adieu! remember what is spoken,
Come buy my songs, and send them to your Sweet-hearts for a
token.
Her Husband was a
Muskettier, and she a warlike Drummer, &c.
I would that I had such a
mate, to walk with me this Summer.
Finis. L.
P.
London: Printed for F. Coles, J. Wright, T. Vere, & W.
Gilbertson.
The Honour of Bristol: Shewing how
The Angel Gabriel of Bristol Fought
with three Spanish Ships, who boarded us seven
times,
wherein we cleared our Decks, and killed five hundred of
their men, and wounded many more, and made them flye into
Cales,
where we lost but three man, to the Honour of the Angel
Gabriel
of Bristol.
To the Tune
of,
Our Noble King in his Progress.
Attend you and give ear a while,
and you shall understand;
Of a Battel fought upon the Seas
by a Ship of brave command:
The fight it was so famous,
that all mens heart doth fill,
And makes them cry to Sea
with the Angel Gabriel
The lusty Ship of Bristol
sail'd out adventurously:
Against the foes of England,
their strength with them to try:
Well Victual'd, Rig'd, and Man'd,
and good provision still,
Which makes men cry to the Sea,
with the Angel Gabriel.
The Captain famous Netheway,
so was he cal'd by Name:
The Masterrs name was John Mines,
a man of noted fame:
The Gunnerr Thomas Watson
a man of perfect skill:
With other valiant Hearts
in the Angel Gabriel.
They waving up and down the Seas,
upon the Ocean Main;
It is not long ago (quoth they)
since England fought with
Spain:
Would we with them might meet,
our minds for to fulfill:
We would play a noble bout,
with our Angel Gabriel.
They had no sooner spoken,
but straight appear'd in sight,
Three lusty Spanish Vessels
of warlike force and might:
With bloody Resolution,
they sought our men to spoil:
And vow'd to make a prize
of our Angel Gabriel.
Then first came up their Admiral
themselves for to advance;
In her she bore full forty eight
pieces of Ordinance:
The next that then came near us,
was their Vice-Admiral,
Which shot most furiously
at our Angel Gabriel.
Our gallant Ship had in her,
full forty fighting men:
With twenty pieces of Ordinance,
we play'd about them then:
And with Powder, Shot, and Bullets,
we did imploy them still:
And thus began the fight
with our Angel Gabriel.
Our Captain to our Masterr said,
take courage Master bold:
The Master to the Seaman said,
stand fast my hearts of gold:
The Gunner unto all the rest,
brave hearts be valiant still:
Let us fight in the Defence
of our Angel Gabriel.
Then we gave them a Broad-side,
which shot their Mast asunder:
And tore the Bowspret of their Ship,
which mad the Spaniards wonder.
And caused them for to cry
with voices lound and shrill:
Help, help, or else we sink,
by the Angel Gabriel.
Yet desperately they boarded us,
for all our valiant Shot:
Threescore of their best fighting man,
upon our Decks were got.
And then at their first entrance,
full thirty we did kill:
And thus we cleared the Decks,
of the Angel Gabriel.
With that their three ships boarded us
again with might and main:
But still our noble Englishmen,
cry'd our a fig for Spain:
Though seven times they boarded us,
at last we shew'd our skill:
And made them feel the force
of the Angel Gabriel.
Seven hours that fight continued,
and many brave men lay dead,
With purple gore, and Spanish blood,
the Sea was coloured Red:
Five hundred of their men,
we there out-right did kill:
And many more were maim'd
by the Angel Gabriel.
They seeing of these bloody spoils,
the rest made hast away,
For why? they saw it was no boot,
longer for to stay:
Then they fled into Cales,
and there they must lye still,
For they never more will serve
to meet our Gabriel.
We had within our English Ship,
but only three men slain:
And five men hurt, the which I hope,
will soon be well again:
At Bristol we werre landed,
and let us praise God still,
That thus hath blest our men,
and our Angel Gabriel.
Now let me not forget to speak,
of the gift given by the owner
Of the Angel Gabriel,
that many years have known her:
Two hundred pounds in coyn & plate,
he gave them with free good will,
Unto them that bravely fought,
in the Angel Gabriel.
Finis.
London, Printed for T. Vere, at the sign of the Angel without Newgate.
The the Tune of The Countrey Lasse.[See note below]
Be merry, my friends, and list a while
unto a merry jest
It may from you produce a smile,
when you heare it exprest,-
Of a young man lately married,
which was a boone good fellow,
This song in's head he alwaies carried
when drinke had made him mellow:
I cannot go home, nor I will not goe home,
it's 'long of the oyle of Barly:
Ile tarry all night for my delight,
and go home in the morning early.
No Tapster stout, or Vintner fine,
quoth he, shall ever get
One groat out of this purse of mine,
to pay his master's debt:
What should I deal with sharking Rookes,
that seeke poore gulls to cozen,
To give twelve pence for a quart of wine?
of ale 'twill buy a dozen.
Twill make me sing, I cannot, &c.
The old renowned I-pocrist [Hypocrates
and Raspie doth excell;
Bur never any wine could yet
my humour please so well.
The Rhenish wine, or Muskadine,
sweet Malmsie is too fulsome;
No! give me a cup of Barlie broth,
for that is very wholesome.
Twill make me sing, I cannot, &c.
Hot waters ar to me as death,
and soone the head oreturneth,
And Nectar hath so strong a breath;
Canary, when it burneth,
It cures no paine, breaks the braine,
and raps out oathes and curses,
And makes men part with heavie heart,
but light it make their purses.
I cannot go home, &c.
Some say Metheglin beares the name
with Perry and sweet Sider;
'Twill bring the body out of frame,
and reach the belly wider;
Which to prevent I am content
with ale that's good and nappie,
And when thereof I have enough,
I think my selfe most happy.
I cannot go home, &c.
All sorts of men, when they do meet,
both trade and occupation,
With curtesie each other greet,
and kinde humiliation;
A good coal fire is their desire,
whereby to sit and parly;
They'l drinke their ale, and tell a tale,
and go home in the morning early.
I cannot go home, &c.
Your domineering, swaggering blades,
and Cavaliers that flashes,-
That throw the Jugs against the walls,
and break in peeces glasses,-
When Bacchus round cannot be found,
they will, in meriment,
Drinke ale and beere, and cast off care,
and sing with one consent:
I cannot goe home, &c.
The second part.
To The Same Tune.
Here, honest John, to thee Ile drinke,
and so to Will and Thomas;
None of the company, I thinke,
will, this night, part from us;
While we are here, wee'll joyne for beere,
like lively lads together;
We have a house over our heads,-
a fig for ranie weather.
I cannot go home, nor I will not go home,
it's 'long of the oyle of Barly:
Ile stay all night for my delight,
and go home in the morning early.
Heres Sumg, the smith, and Ned, the cook,
and Frank, the fine felt-maker;
Heres Steven, with his silver hooke,
and Wat, the lustie baker;
Heres Harry and Dick, with Greg and Nicke;
heres Timothy, the tailor;
heres honest Kit, nere spoke of yet,
and George, the jovial sayler,
That cannot, &c.
We'll sit and bouse, and merrily chat,
and freely we will joyne;
For care neere paid a pound of debt,
nor shall pay none of mine.
Here is but eighteen pence to pay,
since every man is willing;
Being drinke with all the speed you may,
wee'll make it up two shillings.
That cannot, &c.
Let Father frowne, and mother chide,
and Uncle seeke to finde us;
Here is good lap, here will we hide,
weele leave no drinke behinde us.
A proverbe old I have heard told
by my deere dad and grandsire,
"He was hang'd that left his drinke behinde,"
therefore this is our answer,
That cannot, &c.
James the Joyner, he had paid,
and Anthony, the Glover;
Our hostess hath a pretty maid,
I cannot chuse but love her:
Her pot she'll fill with right good will;-
here's ale as brown as berry
Twill make an old woman dance for joy,
and an old man's heart full merry.
I cannot, &c.
'Twill make a Souldier domineere,
and bravely draw his rapier;
Such virtue doth remaine in beere,
'twill make a Cripple caper:
Women with men will, now and then,
sit round and drinke a little;
Tom Tinker's wife, on a Friday night,
for drinke did pawne her kettle.
She could not come home, nor would not come home,
her belly began to rumble;
She had no powerr to go nor stand,
but about the street did tumble.
Thus to conclude my verses rude,
would some good fellowes here
Would joyne together pence a peece,
to buy the singer beere:
I trust none of this company
will be herewith offended;
Therefor, call for your Jugs a peece,
and drink to him that penn'd it.
Finis. Lawrence Price.
Printed at London. [by I(ohn). W(right).?, probably 1629-32]
PLAY: B450- Stingo, or, The Oyle of Barly. Click to play
"The Country Lass", by Martin Parker, before the middle of 1629, (ZN165) is to "a dainty new note [or] the Mother beguiles the Daughter", but there's no way to tell if this is two titles for one tune, or two tunes. There seems to be little doubt, however, that the "Oyle of Barly" title is derived from Price's ballad above.