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i&ojrburglje BaUaDS* 

n.o. 36 , 38 

%* The great bulk of the Final Velum e of Boxburghe Ballads (a total for 
Binding of no less than 1,296 pp.) makes it necessary lo separate the materials 
into Two Divisions. They are provided severally with special Frontispieces, 
Title-pages, Introductions, and Tables of Contents. But they hold in common 
one ' Ballad Index to Vol. VIII ' on pp. 881-936. 

The First Division holds exactly 624 pages (cxii*** -f- xxxii -f 480). The 
Second Division has 672 pages (viz. cc* + xvi** + 456). 

Iggf Bookbinders are warned not to cancel any of the intermediate Prefaces, 
or other pages issued for temporary use, as all of them contain Ballads, Notes, 
and Woodcuts deserving of preservation. 

If When the projected General Index of Historical Names and Events 
is added, it need not exceed a thin Half-Part of one hundred and sixty pages, 
for separate binding: always the best plan when indexing voluminous works. 

It could be ready in manuscript for the printers before the end of 1899; and 
the two coppi r-plate portraits might be included : to count finally as Vol. X of 
the Boxburghe Ballads. Obstacles block the way, threatening to defeat this final 
achievement at the press : unless the Editor were to undertake the extra burden 
of expenditure for printing it, in addition to the literary and artistic labour. For 
twenty-three years his work for the Ballad Society has been gratuitous, un- 
grudgingly wrought, albeit thanklessly. Seeing, however, that the Historical 
Index is necessary, for completeness, direct communication with him alone on 
the subject must be held hereafter by any voluntary Subscribers for the additional 
' No. 39,' viz. Part xxviii, otherwise Vol. X. — J w. e. 



(See pp. xcix :::;:: , civ*** of Introduction, and ballad on p. 737 of Vol. VI.) 




SIXuiBtratfng t&e Hast gears of t&e Stuarts. 




Author of 'Karl's Legacy,' 1868, and 'Cavalier Lyrics,' 1887. 

Editor of four reprinted ' Drolleries ' of the Restoration ; 

of 'The Bagford Ballads'; 'The Amanda Group'; 

'The Two Earliest Quartos of A Midsummer 

Night's Dream, 1600'; 'The Poems of 

Thomas Carew,' 1S93; etc. 


Fol. FJEHE— 1£ 


(2ET)e General Entroouction is in JFirst Bfbt'st'on.) 

IfJvefatorg Note, fcottfj Ecstoratfon Ballatis anti Supplement ; 

ffiiroup of Eobtn Pjooti Ballaos ; Eotjucnes of Jfttllcus, 

ano of tfemale Eamfalcrs. SloDm'onal Wotcs to 

tlje Wine Fols. BaIlao=£ntiei. 

' A few will cull my fruit, and like the taste, 
And find not overmuch to pare away : 
The soundest apples are not soonest ripe, 
In some dark room laid up when others rot. 
Meanwhile not querulous nor feverish 
Hath been my courtship ul the passing voice." 

Walter Savage Landoh 


Printcti for tbe IBaUan <g>octct», 



[Delayed from Issue, until in-,, years later.) 



No. 38. 



' IRcstoration BaUafcs,' 




CfviU-War Ballabe: 


of Nevinston, Mannamead, Plymouth : 


: I will make an end of my dinner : there is pippins and cheese to come ! " 
We have fare for Saint and for Sinner : a banquet is ready, for some ! 
It tvere folly to stint you in rations : no Lenten-diet is here ; 
No total-abstainer's Jobations, but plenty of ' Skittles and Beer.' 

Noio make an end of your dinner, having " pippins and cheese to come ! " 
One need not grow paler and thinner, with Barebone's dolorous hum. 
Nineteen Hundred Old Ballads we brought you {three centuries made 

them of yore) ; 
Since all these rich gifts have not taught you, the Editor adds a few more. 

Parson Evans had lent us our motto* {the only good Welshman yet known) ; 
Page dined him at Windsor, in grotto, when Falstaff came thither from Town. 
Our own page is full to repletion, no ballad we drop in the Thames : 
But bring 'Roxburghes' now to completion. We thank all ivho shared in 
our games. 

* See ' The Merry Wives of Windsor,' Act i, sc. 2. 

J. W. H. 

picfatorp fitott to tf)t &>econo SDtliision 

of Roxuurrjfje Ballad, Vols. VIII, IX. 

jFinal ®roup of Eestoratton 15alIaDs, leeo. 

Contents of tfje ' Restoration ©roup.' 

Advice to General Monk : " Now George for England," Jan. 31, 16f$ 

The Second Part of St. George for England : March 7 

The Case is Altered ; or, The Rump's last Farewell. April, 1660 

A Panegyric to the Lord General Monck. By Rich. Farrar 

England's Joy for the Coming-in of King Charles II 

A Country Song on the Restoration 

England's Joy in a lawful Triumph 

England's Pleasant May-Flower . • . 

Scottish Girl's Complaint . ... 

The King and Kingdom's Joyful Day of Triumph 

The Glory of these Nations : King and People's Happiness 

The Loyal Subject's hearty Wishes to King Charles II 

Royal Entertainment, presented by the City, 4 July, 1660 

A Relation of the Ten infamous Traitors, executed in October, 1660 

The Traitors' Downfall : Execution of the Regicides 

Pageants in London, at Coronation of King Charles II, 1661 

Joyful News to the Nation, at the Crowning, 1661 

A Retrospect of 1651 : The Royal Oak. Ey John Wade . 

Wonderful Escape of Charles II from Worcester, 1651 

Miscellaneous Ballads : Fair Susan of Ashford . . lxx, cl 

Covetous-minded Parents : with the Answer 

The Ring of Gold, and two Sequels .... 

Poor Robin's Prophecy . . ... 

The Praise of Sailors (earlier version than Martin Parker's) 

The Palatine Lovers : l Alack for my Love /' 

Sweet Salutation on Primrose Hill .... 
Fifty-four Political and Miscellaneous ballads, 1654 et neq. List given 
Include: Oliver Cromwell's vampt-up Peers, 1658 

The Protecting Brewer ..... 

Elegy upon the Death of King Charles I, 1649 . 

Parliament Routed; or, This House to be Let, 1653 

Law lies a Bleeding. (Two versions.) 1658 . . . xxxvi, 











xx xiii 
























Prefatory jftote to ^ccono Division of Vol. viii, 

l&oxburflfje Ballaos. Uirtuallg Vol. IX. 

initial dDcoup of IRcgtoratton H5alla&0> 

"As when a mighty People rejoice, 

With shawns, and with cymbals, and harps of gold, 
And the tumult of their acclaim is rolled 
Through the open gates of the City afar 
To the Shepherd who watcheth the Evening-star." 

Tennyson's Dying Swan, 1830. 

THERE is no longer any reasonable hope of the thirty-years old 
Ballad Society, with its insufficient funds, printing quickly 
the series of ' Civil War and Commonwealth Ballads,' which the 
present Editor prepared laboriously. They have been delayed by the 
urgent need to first complete the enormous quantity of Roxburghe 
Ballads, extending as these have done (beyond Mr. Chappell's two 
thousand one hundred and ten pages) to four thousand seven 
hundred and seventy-eight pages, 8vo. They follow J. W. Ebsworth's 
twelve hundred and seventy -four pages of ' Bagford Ballads.' 
(His own total of Roxb. and Bagford combined is 6,052 pages.) The 
sum-total of both works is 8,162 pp. ; Roxb. alone being 6,888. 

This last opportunity is now taken (owing to the expediency 
of separating into Two Divisions the 1,296 pp. of vols, viii, ix) 
to secure the publication of our present ' Group of Restoration 
Ballads,' May, 1660, to April, 166.1. They were all preserved in 
exemplars probably unique (except one Bagford, on p. xiii*). 

Other distinct ballads of the time were reprinted in the ' Rump Collections ' 
of 1660, 1662. and 1731. Nearly all of them have hitherto remained without 
such careful editing as their historical importance demands. They were written 
by distinguished men, ie., John Cleveland, Samuel Butler, John Birkenhead, 
Alexander Brome, Samuel Sheppard, etc., but published anonymously. "We 
cherish hope of returning to them. For the present we give a distinct 
' Restoration Group,' hitherto unattainable ; beginning with addresses to the 
General Georoe Monck (who was, in July, 1670, created Duke of Albemarle). 



Civic Addresses to Monck, 'the King-maker.' 

[Thoruason Collection, King's Pamphlets Folio, vol. xvi, p. 19.] 

3So a JFrienti tijat im'sheo fit's Pfanprness. 

NOw George for England, that brave warrior bold, 
That would not be by Lambert'' s force controul'd, 
But did endeavour, for the good o' th' Nation, 
We hope, to work a blessed Reformation, 
And settle kingly Power in this Dominion ; 
And then thou shalt be great in the opinion 
Of all good people that do fear the Lord : 
And then, no doubt, they will with thee accord, 
And say, Long live, brave George, in wealth and peace ! 
Bless thee with Honours, Plenty, and Increase ! 
And may thy Name for ever be inroll'd 
In characters of pure refined Gold. 
"Which hath stood up still for thy countrie's good, 
Preserv'd the Laws, and saved the people's blood 
From being spilt : happy sure art thee, [sic. 

And will be made a man of high degree : 
For by experience see what is become 
Of Oliver the great, Richard his son, 
Who held unjustly their True Prince's right, 
They 'r now obscure, their day is turn'd to night. 
Whereas a conscience good, void of offence, 
At last is sure to have good recompence, 
To live in glory in the life to come, 
When other have a sad and fatal Doom : 

From which God bless George Monck, and his namesake, 
Who in his praise these Lines did undertake. 


[In MS., 'January 31, 1659 ' [1660]. 

We have already, in 1893, reprinted three ballads on George 
Monck in our vol. vii, pp. 670-677 (one being a variation of 'The 
Noble Progress/ Trunk Ballad No. 2) ; we also mentioned thirteen 
others on vii, p. 669 (where is the misprint of ' see p. 611 ' in the 
brevier list, sixth item, erratum for 'p. 671 '). We see no reason to 
change our estimate of the king-maker George Monck ; hence it forms 
our best introduction to the present ballads, which were not then 
included in the list. Self-quotation of it is therefore excusable : — 

Great were the services rendered by George Monck, and at the right 
time, to ensure a Restoration of the Monarchy, visibly and potentially. To 
those who held wisely the doctrine of hereditary succession — ' Le Roi est mort : 
Vive le Roi ! ' — Prince Charles had already become King Charles II at the 
instant of his father's death, although neither proclaimed nor crowned until 
a later year. The nation became utterly weary of the anarchy which had 
followed the oppressive tyranny of the Commonwealth. It was merely a question 
of time, more than of men, to fix the date of the required change. Charles was 
' Gttstavus,' the long desired and awaited. The enthusiasm of his welcome 
home on Royal Oak Day, 1660, his birthday moreover, showed that the joy was 
national and unprecedented. — Roxb. Ballads, vol. vii, 669. 


George Mo nek, holding Sword and balanced Scales. xi 

Contrasted with the restless, vehement, and shallow conspirators 
who, after the retrocession of llichard Cromwell, were selfishly 
attempting to exalt themselves, without ability to compass their 
ends or courage to fall with dignity, George Monck presents 
a strangely reticent and resolute personality. He had searched 
and studied to the depths every man with whom he came in 
contact, and taken the measure of each one accurately. He was 
wise enough to know his own deficiencies, and this insight held 
him back from personal ambition to be king. "Not Lancelot, 
but Another." Cynicism may have affected his judgment of the 
competing claimants, but there was really no choice, and he finally 
decided that the crown should be worn by King Charles the Second. 

Great tribulation and searching of heart had been felt before 
' the Lord General' Monck came to London, while men feared that 
he might support Lambert or Fleetwood. Closely was he watched, 
each faction desiring to bribe and to cajole him. For a few days 
Monck had seemed to waver; but he was playing his own game 
with a grave countenance, secretly detecting the conspirators, 
who thought themselves capable of hoodwinking him by making 
him their tool. He held the winning cards, and could afford 
to dally with their hopes and fears. It is not possible that so 
astute a politician as he, warrior and arbiter, had meant to coerce 
the City at the bidding of ' the Rump,' except to enhance the value 
of his protection and alliance, whensoever he might choose to 
drop the mask and show them his loyalty. The supreme moment 
came on the eleventh of February. By nightfall the joyful news 
had spread, and the mob was jubilant. Such a shout arose as 
dismayed those who had hitherto hoped that retribution might be 
averted. Then rose the bonfires in public streets and the roasting 
of Rumps of beef, of mutton, of everything available, to designate 
contemptuously the rotten remnants of the ' Long Parliament.' 
It fell dead amid universal execrations. It had selfishly misused 
its opportunities, after arrogating to itself the power to destroy 
murderously every rival. It had controlled the Army, but found 
it rebellious and no less self-assertive. It had lost all claim to 
reverence and affection, if it ever once possessed it ; which is 
doubtful. Loathed and despised, it sank under the load of shame. 
To this day the disloyal upholders of the ' Good Old Cause,' 
with all their specious fallacies, cannot disguise the degradation of 
' The Commons,' in its latest exhibition of abortive spite and sordid 
meanness, fanatical and fraudulent, — The Rump. 

" Monck, like the Oracle, playes fast and loose ; 
We know not yet whether he'sa Fox or a Goose : 
He had best look about him, for his neck 's in a noose, 

Which no body can deny." [ Cf. p. c*. 

Sung in ' The Rump Carbonadoed,' to the tune of The Brewer. 

xii* The City of London welcomes George Monck. 

Monck's 'Royal Progress' (Trunk Ballad No. 2), 'Iter Boreale, 1 
told of the dismay in London at Monck's onslaught, Feb. 9, 16ft>-.' 

" They sent him then, with all his hosts, to break our Posts, and raise our ghosts, 

Which was their intent, 
To cut our Gates and Chains all down, unto the ground, this trick they found, 

To make him be shent ; [shent = abashed. 

This plot the Rump did so accord, to cast an odium on my Lord, 
But in this task he was hard put unto 't, 't was enough to infect both his horse 
and foot. 

" So when my Lord perceiv'd, that night, what was their spight, he brought to 

Their knaveries all. 
The Parliament of 'Forty-eight, which long did wait, came to him straight, 

To give them a Fall. 
And some Phanatical people knew that George would give them their fatal due ; 
For indeed he did requite them agen ; for he pull'd the Monster out of his den." 
Vol. vii', p. 670, T. H.'s 'Iter Boreale' = ' Royal Progress.'' 

— - — ^-"X'H — ■ 

When the first terror had passed away, after Monck had 
commanded the posts and chains to be torn down, the City soon 
recovered confidence, and the loyal language became hopeful. There 
was no longer any need for the trumpet to give an uncertain sound. 

Anagram of His Excellency the Lord Generall 


King Come ore. 

Written by Will. Drummond, 25 July, 1660 (son of Hawthornden Drummond : 
but it is ill done and imperfect, having an I too much, a G too little). 

Many of our unique ballads were ' Printed for Francis Grove on Snow-hill.' 
One of them, beginning, " The Prince he will come soon : Gallant neivs, gallant 
news ! " to the tune of Royal News, Royal News, is entitled ' Gallant News.' 

" Gallant News of late I bring, tidings of chusing now a King, 
Whereby true Subjects may rejoyce in chusing them so sweet a choyce: 
That Love and Peace may so agree to end the days of misery." 

Other ballads were printed for John Andrews, at the White Lion. Pie-Corner. 
Another ballad of the same theme is entitled '■England's, Honour and 
London's Glory, with the manner of proclaiming Charles the Second King of 
England this eighth of May, 1660, by the honourable the two houses of 
Parliament, Lord General Monck, the Lord Mayor, Aldermen, and Common 
Counsell of the City. The tune is, Vive le Roy.' It was printed for Willm. 
Gilbertson, and begins, " Come hither, friends, and listen unto me, and hear 
what shall now related be." The burden is, Then let us sing, boyes, God save 
the King, boyes ! Drink a good health and sing Vive le Roy ! Probably it 
is the same tune as Sing for joy, sing for joy /—see vol. vii, p. 664. 

There are innumerable allusions in panegyrics, after Feb. 11, to Monck as 
St. George ; but no genuine first Part found of a political ' St. George for 
England ' that was sung to the same old tune of Drive the cold Winter away. 
The tune (see Popular Music, p. 194) takes its name from, the burden of Martin 
Parker's Christmas song, beginning, " All hail to the days that merit more 
praise than all other days in the year ! " (reprinted in Roxb. Rds., vol. i, p. 84). 


[Bagford Collection, III, 54 ; Thomason, 669, f. 25, vol. xviii, 4.] 

€f)e ^CCOtltl Part Of %U George fOt England. 

To the Tune of, To drive the cold Winter away. [See vol. i, p. 84.] 

NOw the Rump is confounded, there's an end of the Round-head, 
"Who hath been such a bane to our Nation ; 
He hath now plai'd his part, and 's gone out like a fa.t, 

Together with his ' Reformation.' 
For by his good favour, he hath left an ill savour, 

But 's no matter, we '11 trust him no more ; 
Kings and Queens may appear, once again, in our sphere, 
Now the Knaves are turn'd out of door : 
And drive the cold Winter away. 

Scot, JSfevil, and Vane, with the rest of that train, 

Are into ' Oceana ' fled ; 
Sir Arthur the brave, that's as arrant a Knave, [Hasierigg. 

Has Harrington's 'Rota'' in 's head. 
But he 's now full of cares, for his foals and his mares, 

As when he was routed before, 
But I think he despairs, by his arms or his prayers, 

To set up the Rump any more, 

And drive the cold Winter away. 

I should never have thought that a Monk could have wrought 

Such a reformation so soon : 
That House, which of late was the jakes of the State, \t. 'Jacques. 1 

"Will ere long be a House of Kenown. 
How good wits did jump, in abusing the Rump, 

"Whilst the House was press' d by the Babble ; 
But our Hercules Monk, though it grievously stunk, 

Now hath cleansed that Augean- stable, 
And drive' the cold Winter away. 

And now Mr. Prynne with the rest may come in, 

And take their places again ; 
For the House is made sweet, for those Members to meet, 

Though part of the Rump yet remain ; 
Nor need they to fear though his Breeches be there, 

"Which were wrong'd both behind and before, 
For he saith " 't was a chance," and " forgive him this once ! " 

And he swears he will do so no more : 
And drive the cold Winter away. 

xiv* Second Part of St. George for England. 

'T is true, there are some who are still for the Bum 

(Such tares will grow up with the wheat, ; 
And there they will [hum] till a Parliament come [text'pe.' 

That can give them a total defeat. 
But yet, I am told, that the Hampers do hold 

" That the Saints may swim with the tyde ; 
Nor can it he treason, but Scripture and Reason, 

Still to close with the stronger side, 
And drive the cold Winter away" 

Those Lawyers o' th' House, as Baron Wild-goose, rJ™- ». Serg 

With Treason Hill, Whitloclc, and Say,\_]y. Fiennes. 
Were the bane of Laws, and our ' Good Old Cause,' 

And 't were well if such were away. 
Some more there are to blame, whom I care not to name, 

That are Men of the very same ranks ; 
'Mongst whom there is one, that to-devil Barebone, rprahe-God 

For his ugly Petition gave thanks : \_Barban, 9 Feb. 

And drive the cold Winter away. 

But I hope, by this time, hee'l confess 't was a crime 

To abet such a damnable crew, 
Whose Petition was drawn by Alcoran Vane, ^^^jnu^c' V ' 

Or else by Corbet the Jew. 
By it you may know what the Rump meant to do, 

And what a Religion to frame ; 
So 't was time for St. George that Rump to disgorge, [Gen. Geo. Month. 

And to send it from whence it first came : 
Then drive the cold Winter away. 

Jim's for the Rump's Finis. 
[White-letter. No cut. G. Thomason dates it in MS. 'March 7, 1659 '=16fg.] 

Civic hospitality provided numerous banquets in the Halls of the 
chief Companies, to regale George Monck, commingled with flattery 
that needed not elaborate disguise to make it equally acceptable. 

" Of praise a mere glutton, he swallow'd what came, 
And the puff of a Dunce he mistook it for Fame ; 
Till his relish grown callous, almost to disease, 
Who peppei'd the highest was surest to please." 

Monck, being more of a warrior than of a politician, was 
preparing to become a courtier. He wisely resolved to abandon 
the fanatic zealots ; they being as incapable of gratitude to him as 
of unity among themselves. There was ' A Speech made to the 
Lord General MONCK, at Cloth-workers Hall in London, the 
13 of March, 1659 [16|--£-], at which time he was there entertained 
by that worthie Companie.' It was ' Written by Thomas Jordan.' 

Panegyrics addressed to George Monde. xv 


' AT Ay, thm, let me come too with my Addresse. 
1 1 Why mayn't a ltustick promise or professe 
His good affection to you ? Why not declare 
His wants, how many and how great they are ? 
And how you may supply them ? since you may 
See our hearts mourn, although our clothes be gray ? " [90 lines. 
[Thomason Coll., vol. xvii, p. 8 ; Liudes., No. SOG.] 

Later (on March 24, 1659-60), Sir William D'Avenant addressed 
' A Panegyrics to His Excellency the Lord Generall Moxck ' : 
Printed for .Henry Herringman, 1659. 

" f\Vr fiery Sects scorn 'd your triumphant night, 
' ' When only Bonfires lent the City light. 
More proudly, they, like Nero, did designe 
The City 's flame should make the Country shine : 
And all those Bells which rung in your applause 
They would have melted to maintain ' the Cause.' 
Alas ! How little you in Action seem, 
When by their great intent we measure them ! 
You the Fanatick party would correct ; 
They rifle all rich Christians, as a Sect. 

To Bonfires you their rouling Pulpits turn : [*'-e. the Tub. 

But they, instead of Tubs, would Churches burn." Etc. 

Walter Yolkney (p. xx*) wrote and delivered 'A Speech made 
to his Excellency the Lord General Monck, and the Councell of 
State, at Drapers' Hall in London, the 28th of March, 1660: at 
which time they were entertained by that honourable Company.' 

" A/T^ h° noure< l Sir, if a poore Schollar may 
JJJl (Amongst the rest) his duteous offering pay, 
Accept my might unto your merit, you 
That have given life to us, and learning too. 
How had the Churche's glory laine in th' dust, 
A sacrifice to the Phanatiques' lust, 
The virgin had been rifled, and our lawes 
Become a prey unto the monstrous jawes 
Of wolves and vermin, had not you stept in 
Unto their rescue ; nay, the City bin 
A Shambles made : you have redeem'd our states, 
As though you had sat in Councell with the Fates : " etc. 

— < March 30, 16G0 ' [Thomason, xvii, 47 ; Lind., 807]. 

At the same date and feast was delivered the ' Dialogue betwixt 
Tom and Dick,' as a Countryman and a Citizen, beginning, " Now 
would I give my life to see this wondrous Man of might." Written 
by Thomas Jordan. (We reprinted it in vol. vii, p. 672.) 

The Dialogue teems with dramatic humour, and became popular. Many of 
Jordan's songs are reprinted in Roxburghe Ballads (vols, iii, 484 ; iv, 210, 213; 
v, 177 ; and vi, 490, viz. ' The Noble Prodigal '). Among Bagford Ballad*, p. 720, 
is 'The Careless Gallant.' Jordan's Royal Arbor of Loyal rocsic, 1664, was 
reprinted privately, with a memoir, by the excellent J. Payne Collier, in his Old 
English Literature, No. 23 ; who in his Bibliographical Catalogue, i, 44, quoted 
Jordan's Foelicall Varieties, 1637 ; the original 4to. is in our Trowhesh Collection. 

xvi* Prefatory Note, caul Group of Restoration Ballads. 

' A Speech to the Lord- General Moxck at Skinners' -Hall, April 
the Fourth, 1660,' after some preliminary matter ("Che tell thee, 
Che -will come in!"), begins thus: "My Lord, I have receiv'd 
command from those I this clay do attend upon, to close," etc. The 
City loyally makes apology for having given countenance earlier to 
the rebellious and treacherous Commons. They are shown to have 

" Thirsted and hunted after Royal blood : 

The People's faith abus'd, who only lent 

Their aid to joyn the King and Parliament ; 

Instead of which, the miscreants' subtilty 

Paid violent hands on Sacred Majesty ; 

Even when it came to the concluding point,* f* Treaty at tlio 

They did our hope and happiness disjoynt. L ^le of (I xght. 

' "We find our Fundamentals then begin 

To stagger when King-killing's thought no sin.' 

Nor was their monstrous malice satisfyed 

When as the People's Martyr great Charles dyed : [Cf. p. cv*. 
From whence (unto their horror) this truth springs, 
' The worst of Subjects JciWcl the best of Kings.' 
Thus were we drawn near to destruction, 

By that "White Devil, feign'd Devotion ; • 

That Loyalty was held Malignity, 

And pure Religion counted Heresie ; 

And Parliaments— we did so highly prize — 

Made but the subject for their mockeries. 

So that this forlorn hapless continent 

Hath been the Sepulchre of Government : 

Since Charles he suffer'd, no man durst complain, 

But held it mercy that he might be slain. \_h est, himself. 

It was a riddance from that Slavery 

Attended on a Tyrant's cruelty ; 

Whose Usurpations left us with the wind, 
Though (like the Snail) he 's left a slime behind. 

Kings were held Nursing Fathers: Great Sir, then 
Grant us to see those Blessings once agen. 
Next unto God, the Power is in your hand 
To make this Fertile, or a Barren Land, 
The Old Arcadians, that did mourn all night 
At the Sun's-setting, and despair'd of Light, 
Were next day comforted, when in his sphere 
He on his splendid Chariot did appear. 
So Our great Loss admits of a repair, 
In the succeeding hopes of Charles his Heir ; 
That all men cry, and all cries meet in one, 
For th? Pious Father's God-like Patient Son." 

Spoken by Mr. W. Bard. 
London, Printed for John Towers. ['April 5'] 1660. 

Still closer to the Royal Oak Day of Restoration, on the 22nd of 
Mav, 1660, ' General Monck ' was addressed in a Panegyric written 
by one Richard Farrar; wherein came the customary implication of 
Monck being the new St. George who was fated to slay the rebellious 
Parliament Dragon, ' the Rump.' To each man the allusion was 
" familiar in his mouth as household words." ( Cf. pp. xxi*, xxii*.) 


[British Museum ' Trunk Ballad,' p.m. 835, m. 10, No. 3. Unique.] 

C&e Case 10 aiteren; 


§>it: IRefcmnce, tfy Rump'$ last jFacetocI* 

To the Tune of, Robin Hood and the Stranger. [See pp. 512, 516.] 

[Two portraits : Oliver Cromwell, and his wife Elizabeth.'] 

BO]th Commons and Peers, come prick up your ears, 
[I would sing of] Bellona and [Ma]rs. 
I hope I shall fit ye] with a pleasant new dittie, 
of a rampant Nose and Ars. 

The politick Snout, that hath a clear rout, 
stood i' th' midst of old Oliver's face ; 

And when that Nose dropt, the[re] presently popt 
a pittiful Rump in the place. 

Lord Richard and Harry did quickly mis[carry, 

and could not be [staunch] to their Daddy ; 

And old Beldam Joan was left to make mone, 
that she was not ' so good as My Lady.' 

Second Division, Pkef. Note. 

[Oliver's red nose. 

[0. C.'ssonn. 

[Elizab. Cromw. 
['in the dark.' 

xviii* ' The Case is Altered' {The Rump's Farewell). 

If Fleetwood the Fool had ne'er gone to school [Gen. Chas. F. 

his head-piece could not have heen weaker; 
In Archie's void place, let him carry the Mace pf Ar '" s , tr0 J l !>: 

4.1 T l, A J a 1 L James l's Jester. 

before the Logger-headed Speaker. [jr. say, temp. s P . 

Clown Deslorougli 's high shoon will not hold the long run, [ p . xx \ 
except blind Hewson translate 'um. [i.e. cobble 'em. 

He may supple his toes with the matter in his nose, 
or with the sick Rump's Bummatum. 

Squire Lambert and 's pride are both hang'd aside, [vii, 6G8, Note*. 

like an old rotten case and an Ink-horn; 
He 's left i' th' lurch, that lookt o' re the Church, 

as the Devil lookt over Lincoln. 

Aspiring Sir Vane is now i' th[e wa]ne, [Sir H. Vane, jun. 

for Presbyte[r Ge]orge hath trapan'd him; [Geo.Mmck. 
Though when ague was i' th' head, he strook it all dead, 

if any could understand him. 

If the State do him spue, from Old England to New, 

I think I am no mistaker, 
That Church that can see somewhat farther than we 

would hang him up for a Quaker. 

2Cfje .SEConti Part. To the same Tune. 

PRince Arthur the bold hath late taken cold, rsir.4. Hasierigg, 

in playing at Cards with the Rump ; L against Lambert. 

'Cause he would not save, Monclc dealt him the Knave, 

and turn'd up the King for Trump. [u Feb. 

[The Disci]ples nine, that [litter] of a suine, ['The Gang,' p. lv*. 

like apostles of John [o'J Ley den, [Bocold of Minister. 
Have lost all their hopes, and are worthy of ropes, 

for ' the Case is alter 1 d' like Pleydo)i , s. [iVofet, Sir T. P. 

But take the whole Rump, all the Members in lump, 

the whole house was clothed so thin, 
That a cloud like one fist grew to a Scotch mist, 

and wet them all to the shin. [Proverbial. 

The Rump made us quail, with a sting in the taile, 

whiles it did its venome disgorge ; 
But that Dragon 's confounded, lies bleeding and wounded, 

with the Sword of our England's St. George. p>P- ^V, xii *' 

The Council of State is quite out of date, 

the Sun is gone off their Diall ; 
Oh ! horrible thing ! they murder'd the King : 

let them have as fair a Try all. [Oct., p. xiix*. 

' The Case is Altered ' (The Rump's Farewell). xix* 

If Lenthal bo dumb, in serving the bum, [ w. z., former Speaker. 

and cannot speak worth a f . . . , 
Let gallant bold Prin by vote be brought in, [Wm. Trynne, excluded. 

and he '1 set a spoke in their Cart. 

Hugh Peters, the Antick, that was so long frantic, [pp. l*, lv*. 

stands now by him self like a [c]ypher ; 
But I '1 give him a wipe, because he loves tripe, 

since he plowed with the Butcher' 's heifer. [cf. vii, 619. 

And yet, e're he pass, let him take t' other glass, 

and drink it up all at a draft ; 
Wee '1 bequeath, as most due, the bones of St. Hugh, rcobbier^ tools. 

unto Sew son, the man of our craft. 

Let England now ring, to cry up a King, 

as our Parliament's principal head ; 
Till then you nor we can be full nor free, 

but our carcasses gasping for dead. 

And now let me venter this Caveat to enter, 

that neither for fear nor affection 
So much as a stump of that reprobate Rump 

\h&\ ever had more in Election. 

London, Printed for John Andrews at the White-Lyon near Pge-corner. 

[Black-letter. Four cuts : 1st, Oliver Cromwell, in feathered hat ; 2nd, Lis wife, 
" Elizabeth Cromwell, known as </"««," as in ' The Case is Altered ; or, Bread- 
full News from Hell,' 4to. (p.m. E. 1869/2, ' Aug. 6, 1660 ') ; 3rd, Charles I, 
armed, on horseback; 4th, on p. xvii*, but reversed. Date, early April, 1660.] 

* Note. — Lambert's ambition to displace Fleetwood was known. See the 
' Second Death of the Rump ' (" Come, buy my fine dittie ") : 

" Then Lambert 's Wife chid him, and (like Cromwell) bid bim 
' Confound it, and mount the Throne royal ! 
Your weapon 's as long,' quoth she, ' and as strong : 
Myself of 'em both have made tryal.' 

" He finds th' Anabaptist for his purpose aptist, 

And treads the steps of Nipper Dolin ; VB. Knipperdullin, 

He fasts and he prays i' th' new canting phrase, L ob - 15 ° 5 - 

As if Heav'n were taken with drolling. 

" Bold Lambert advanced, he fricquier'd and pranced, 
And 's partie with speeches did urge on, 
But though he and Murley did snarl and look surly, [Col. John M. 
They cheated the De'il and the Cheirurgion." 

t Note. — Sir Thomas Pleydon was entangled in Miles Sindercomb's plot, to 
destroy Cromwell (8 Dec, 1656: T. Burton's Parliamentary Diary, i, 355). 

xx* " That scribbling knave, Marchamont Needham." 

In April, 1660, came ' The Downfall of Mercurius Britannicus, 
alias Pragmaticus, vel Politicus, thatThree-Heuded Cerberus.'' M. N., 
the turncoat messenger, is sent to Pluto, to learn how recent news 
from earth affects the Infernal Regions. (" That proverb," etc.) 

" But first let Oliver thy patron know 
Our revolutions here, and how things go. 

How Dick and Harry both have lost their station, [-B- and E. Cromwell. 

Wanting his courage and dissimulation. 

How his son' Fleetwood, and the Clown his brother, [b.-in-law, Desboruugh. 
Betray' d them both, and so betray 'd each other. 
And how at present we are govern'd all 

By a wise Council, and honest General. VGeo. Monek. 

How all the Lords and Knights which he hath made, L' He '= Oliver, 
Are now returning each man to his trade. 
That Corbtt, Vane, and Scot are out of favour, 
And now stand bound unto their good behaviour. 
That Has/erigg, his old antagonist, 
Of being Knight in Leicestershire hath miss'd ; 
And [with] his friend, the 8urr[e]y Knight and Squire, [« Ainslo.' 
Have lost the day for being Knights o' th' Shire. 
And that young Tarquin (oft so-call'd by thee) 
Must now of England Charles the Second be. 
And when thou 'ast told him this, tell him withall 
The money 's owing still for 's Funeral. [Strictly true. 

What news there 's from below let 's hear, and thus 
Farewell, Mercurius Acharontichus ! " 

JJFmtS, The Rump. 
Printed in the year that the Saints are disappointed, [April 9,] 1660. 

' The Speech spoken to the Lord-General Monck at Goklsniith's- 
Ilall, April the tenth, 1660,' fifty lines, begins thus : — 
"My Lord. 

r E have lnyn under Hatches many years, 

Enthrall'd at that with jealousies and fears ; 
Since then, th' Indulgence of Pope Oliver [Oliver Cromwell. 

Pardon' d all sins did to his Rise refer. 

The dapper Dicky did succeed his Sire, [Richard Cromwell. 

A very gentle, proper, simple Squire, 
A Man of Wax, that each Fool work'd upon : 

Fleetonian, or a Lambertonian. [ = Fleetwoodian. 

They then prevailing did prepare a Pack 
Of ' all-together, Knaves, walk ! '— ' What d' ye lack? ' 
This was the Rumpin, Thumpin, Rampin Rump, 
To rhyme to which my wits 1 'm fore'd to pump. 
The Rump had not sate long but it began 

To stink i' th' nostrils of th' Soulderian : [In Westminster. 

Walling ford- Bouse gave light to Hen-sou's Eye, L-H- was Monoculus. 

To finde the ready way to Butchery. 

The Sultan Lambert's Pride, with paces even, [' Don Juan Lamberto.' 

Trac'd Noll in Mr. Sterry's way to Heaven . . . [Peter Sterry. 
That since (My Lord) you have appear'd, the Elf 

Is « la mort, and may go Hoyle himself. . . . [Alderm. E., suicide. 

Then blame Us not, if that our Joyes abound : 
Whate're Our Reasons are, You are the ground." Walter Yolkney. 

London, Printed for John Toners, [April 11,] 1660. 

W 1 

The 'Trunk Ballads ' of 1660 and 1661. xxi* 

So far back as 25 April, 1660, the new Parliament had met, free from the 
trammels and corruption of the heartily detested ' Rump.' The Presbyterians 
had regained power, and their bitterest enemies, the Independant sectaries, had 
reached the end of their tether. After his Petition on 9 February, ' Praise-God 
Barebones ' could no longer declaim against holding any intercourse with the 
Stuarts. The King's letter from Breda was brought by Sir John Grenville, and 
read on May Day, and the House voted for Restoration. Charles embarked on 
the 22nd, landed at Dover on the 26th, after a rough passage, and was welcomed 
joyfully, as told in the ballad. Before 1661, Geo. Thomason must have lost his 
zeal, for a large number of Restoration ballads failed to enrich his collection, 
even of those preserved elsewhere : many others perished, such as ' General Monck 
hath advanced himself since he came from the Tower' (see vol. vii, p. 669). 

Praise-God Barbon was usually nicknamed '■Barebones' 1 ; thus mentioned, 
March 23, 16f§, in the ballad of ' Arsy Versy ; or, The Second Martyrdom of 
the Rump ' (see vol. vii, 664 ; quoted, but not reprinted) : — 

" Next 'Praise-God,' although of the ' Ramp ' he was none, 
Was for his Petition burnt to the Bare-bone : 
So ' Praise-God" 1 and ' Rump,' like true Josephs together, 
Did suffer ; but ' Praise-God' lost the more leather." 

An original note adds : " Courteous Reader, he is a Leather-seller." 

Among our chief rarities in this ' Restoration Group ' are the celebrated 

' Trunk Ballads,' six in number : five bearing date 1660. Two of the six 

(Nos. 3 and 4) have remained inaccessible in any reprint. Cf. pp. xiv***, xli***. 

These ' Trunk Ballads ' are so called because they had formed the lining of 

a leathern portmanteau, made in April or May, 1661. They still bear the 

staius and ornamental embossments on the broadsides, with actual mutilations 

to fit the lock ; one ballad being devoid of title, tune-name, large woodcut, 

and several stanzas. All the six unique ' Trunk Ballads ' are reprinted here, 

Nos. 1, 3, 4, 5, and 6. No. 2, 'The Royal Progress of General Monck,' 

was virtually reprinted in our vol. vii, pp. 670-1 (being the only ' Trunk Ballad ' 

that has an analogue), beginning, " Good people all, heark to my call." 

Now given are: (1) 'The Loyal Subject's hearty Wishes' ; (3) ' The Case is 

Altered ' ; (4) title lost : probably ' The Pageants iu London,' at the Coronation 

of King Charles the Second, on St. George's Day, 1661 ; (5) ' The Glory of 

these Nations' ; (6) ' A Relation ' : see pp. xli*, xvii*, lvii*, xxxvii*, xlix*. 

Until ' Royal Oak Day' brought King Charles " to his own again," 
his name was less spoken than held iu heart. Hopes rose high. 

Monck kept the balance, and saw what was inevitable as well as expedient. 
So early as 11 January, 16|,y, the ballad was publicly sung (' The Rump roughly 
but righteously Handled,' beginning, "More sacks to the Mill"), telliug what 
was 'expected to be alike his duty and his ultimate choice : — 

" Though now they tempt Monck with a thousand per annum, 
In hopes that, to worship, his face he '11 fall fiat on, 
Yet he 's wise enough to resist and disdain 'urn, 

And cry, ' Get thee behind me, thou Bob-tail of Satan ! ' 

" Right pat with St. Georoe's this story will jump : 

Poor England 's the Damsel appointed for slaughter, 
And Monck the St. George to kill Dragon Rump, 
And safely restore to the King his fair Daughter." 

Richard Farrar's 'Panegyric' to Monck (see p. xvi" A ') follows. 


£1 PancggrfcU to Ijis SxrcUcncg 

'Cge LorD Cmetral 3Ionck, 

By Richard Farrar, Esq™. 

-filNGZAWD'S St. £<w<7f, who did the Virgin free 
J-J From Dragon's Jaws, was but a type of thee. 
Thou (noble George) that Saint surpasses farr 
(Monck's name alone hath quench'd our flaming Warr). 
Hee but one Dragon slew, one Virgin freed, 
But Thou three kingdoms hast redeem'd : blest deed ! 
(Redeem'd from numerous Dragons' tearing paws, 
Who kill'd our King, and trampled on our Laws. 
Monsters of monsters ! most strange Defeat !) 
And yet thou did'st not either fight or treat. 
All this so calmly, with such silence too, 
And so much speed, thou did'st thy self out-do. 
The King is so oblig'd, Himself doth owne 
'T is by thy conduct Hee ascends the Throne. 
And our three Nations all, all jointly do 
Court thee by statues and adore Heaven too. 
Three kingdoms th' hast United, a new way ! 
The king Hee thanks thee, and the People pay 
To thee a second duty. Happy thou, 
To whom three Nations unconstrained Bow : 
What poweriull charms in sweetest harmony 
Surround thy soul, Virtue's great prodigy ! 
Thy valour hath been try'd by Sea and Land, 
And thou best know'st on either to command. 
So worthily thou hast thy self behav'd, 
Love in the hearts of Both Sides is ingrav'd. 
Well may our Island boast to have brought forth 
A man so modest, of such mighty worth. 
Succeeding times shall wonder at the Fame ' 
Wee justly give, and celebrate thy name. 
Thy glorious Statue of Corinthian Brass 
Shall stand, whil'st Time is Time (the Looking- Glass 
Of thy great Acts), and stiled Thou shall be 
The Guardian angel of our Monarchie. [JuttS. 

London, Printed by John Macoc/c. [True date, March 13, 1660.] 

'England's Joy' was written by Alexander Brome for the entertainment to 
General Monck, on 13th March, at Clothworkers' Hall, London. Two of the 
stanzas (our first and fourth) are reprinted among Brome's Snugs and Poems, 
p. 113, ed. 3, 1668. He died 3rd June, 1666. Diifereuces betwixt song and 
broadside version are great. In our longer 'England's Joy,' the language is so 
bold that it might not have been safe to sing it complete in presence of 
George Monck, 13 March, 1660; broadside omits any reference to the Feast 
at Clothmakers' Hall. Samuel Pepys tells of sundry other civic feasts given to 
Monck : but the Clothworkers was 1'epys' favourite Company, whereunto he was 
a benefactor. AVe on p. xxv* note the divergences of text. 

In Songs and other Poems by Alexander Brome, gent., published (like the 
broadside) by Henry Brome, but at the Star, in Little-Britain, 3rd edition, 1668, 
this Song xhi is entitled, " For General Monck, his Entertainment at Cloath- 
tvorkers 1 ■Mall.'" [To its own Tuiie of, How joyful shall ive be.'] 


[Thoraason Coll. Broadsides, p.m. 669, f. 2, vol. xvii, 20.] 

fov tf)t Coming tn of otic (Brarioug &>oteigu Mm 

Charles tf)t II. 

Ring Bells, and let bone-fires out-blaze the Sun, 
Let eccboes contribute their voice ! 
For now a happy settlement 's begun, 
To shew how we do all rejoyce : 
If we by this can have the bliss 

To re-injoy a Unity, 
"We '11 do no more as heretofore, 
But will in mutual love increase : 
If we can once agen have peace, 
Hoiv joyful shall ive be ! 

The King shall his Prerogative enjoy, 

The State their Privilege shall have : 
He will not Theirs, nor will they His annoy, 
But both each other's strive to save. 
The people shall turn loyal all, 

And strive t' obey his Majesty, 
And Truth and Peace shall both increase ; 
They '11 be obedient to the Lawes, 
And hate that subtle name of ' Cause.' 
Then joyful shall we be. 

The Parliament will rise no more in armes, 

To fight against their lawfull King, 
Nor be deluded by their factious charms 
That all the Bealm to treason bring : 
They '11 learn to vote no more by rote, 

Nor pass their Bills ex tempore, 
But study peace, and trade's increase ; 
Since now we finde it is not good 
To write the Kingdome's Peace in blood : 
But joyfull shall we be. 

The Coblers shall not edifie their Tubbs, 

Nor in Divinity 6et stitches ; 
Wee '1 not b' instructed by Mechanick scrubs, 
"Women shan't preach with men for breeches. 
The prick- ear'd Tribe that won't subscribe 

Unto our Churche's Hierarchie, 
Must England leave, and to Geneve, 
Neio England, or to Amsterdam, 
With all whom Church and State can't tame ; 
Then joyfull shall ive be. 

xxiv* England's Joy for the Coming of Charles II. 

Wee '1 toyl no more to maintain Patentees, 

That feed upon poor people's trade ; 
Star- Chamber sha'n't vex guiltless men for fees, 
Nor Law to Vice for bribes be Baud. 
The Bisbops each will learn to preach, 

Kich Clergy will not silent be ; 
And Judges all, impartial : 
When Lawe 's alike to all degrees, 
No sleeping Judges gape for fees. 
Row joyfull shall we be! 

Wee '1 figbt no more for jealousies and fears, 
Nor spend our blood, we know not why ; 
The Roundheads shall shake hands with Cavaliers, 
And both for King and Country die ; 
The Sword shall not maintain a Plot, 

For fear of plots which ne'er shall be ; 
Nor will we still each other kill, 
To fight for those that are as far 
From peace as they will be from war : 
But joyfull shall ive be. 

The broken Citts no more shall lick their chops, 

Nor wealth recruit with Country's store, 
But lay down armes, and keep within their shops, 
And cry " What lack you ? " as before. 
They '11 turn agen, Blew-apron'd men, 

And leave their titles of degree ; 
Nor will they prate 'gainst Church and State, 
But change their feathers, flags, and drums, 
For Items and the total sums. 

How joyfull shall ice be ! 

We will not Garrisons of Lubbers feed, 

To plunder, drink, and gather pay; 
While they lye lazing, and are both agreed 
To fetch our goods and us away. 

And though they swear, we will not care, 

Nor to such Skoundrells servile be ; 
We will not stand, with cap in hand, 
Beseeching them to let alone 
The goods which justly are our own : 
But joy full shall we be. 

Fanatick Troupers must go home agen, 
And humbly walk a-foot to plow ; 

Nor domineer thus over honest men, 
But work to get their livings now 

England's Joy for the Coming of Charles II xx\ 


Or if their mind be not inclin'd 

To leave their former knavery, 
A halter shall dispatch them all, 
And then the Gallows shall be made 
The high'st preferment of their trade : 
A joy full siyht to see. 

Let Roundheads shake their circumsized ears, 

"Wee '11 ride about as well as they ; 
Nor will we stand in fear of Cavaliers, 
That sleep all night and drink all day: 
When we can find both sides enclin'd 
To change their War for Unity; 
'twill be brave, if we can have 
The Freedom granted by our Charter, 
And 'scape from plunder, pay, and quarter : 
Soio joy full shall ive he ! 

[Written by Alexander Brome.] 
London, Printed for H. Brome, at the Gun in Ivy-lane, 1660. 
[Marked in MS. ' May 14.' True date, March 13, 16|§.] 
Notes : Variorum readings in ' Songs by A. Brome.'' Same publisher and year. 
1. — "Ring Bells ! and let bone-fires." "Since now a happy settlement 's begun, 
Let all things tell how all good men rejoyce. If these sad Lands by this | Can but 
obtain the bliss | Of their desired, though abused peace ; We '1 never never more | 
Run mad, as we have heretofore, To buy our ruine ; but all strife shall cease." 

2. — " The Cobler shall editie us no more, Nor shall in divinity set any stitches. 
The women we will no more hear and adore, that preach with their husbands for 
the breeches. The Fhanatical tribe that will not subscribe | To the orders of 
Church and of State, | Shall be smother'd with the zeal | Of their new Common- 
weal, And no man will mind what they prate ." 

Chorus. — " We 'I eat and we 'I drink, we 7 dance, and we 7 sing, 

The Roundheads and Caveys no more shall be named ; [Cavaliers. 
But all joy n together, to make up the ring ; 

And rejoyce that the many-headed Dragon is tam'd. 
'Tis friendship and love that can save us and arm us ; 
And while ive all agree, there is nothing can harm us. " 

Alexander Brome. 

Alexander Brome, in his Song xl, ' On the King's Return,' a few weeks later, 
"Long have we waited lor a happy End of all our miseries and strife," thus 
hailed the arrival of Charles II : — 

" But now we are redeem'd from all, by our indulgent King, 
Whose coming does prevent our fall ; 
With loyal and with joyful hearts we '11 sing : 
Chorus. — Welcome, welcome, Royal May ! welcome long desired Spring ! 
Many Springs and Mays we 've seen, 
Have brought forth what 's gay and green ; 
But none is like this glorious day, which brings forth our Gracious King.'" 


[Geo. Tkoniason's Coll. folio broadsides, 669, f. 25, vol. xx.] 

a Counttp ^ong, mtttuleD t&e IRestoration. 

[Not the Tune or, When the King enjoy es his Own again. See p. xl*.] 

COme, come away to the Temple, and pray, 
And sing with a pleasant strain ; 
The Schis7natick 1 s dead, the Liturgy 's read, 
And the King enjoy es his Own again. 

The Vicar is glad, the Clerk is not sad, 

And the Parish can not refrain 
To leap and rejoyce, and lift up their voyce, 

That the King enjoyes his Own again. 

The Countrey doth bow to old Justices now, 

That long aside have been lain ; 
The Bishop 's restor'd, God is rightly ador'd, 

And the King enjoyes his Own again. 

Committee-men fall, and Majors -Generall, [Lambert, Fleetwood. 

Noe more doe these Tyrants reign ; 
There 's no Sequestration, nor new Decimation : 

For the King enjoyes the Sword again. 

The Scholar doth look with joy on his Book ; 

Tom whistles and plows amain ; [Tom Plowman. 

Soldiers plunder no more, as they did heretofore : 

For the King enjoyes the Sword again. 

The Citizens trade, the Merchants do lade, 

And send their Ships into Spain ; 
No Pirates at sea to make them a prey, 

For the King enjoyes the Sword again. 

The Old Man and Boy, the Clergy and Lay, 

Their joyes cannot contain ; 
"I is better than of late, with the Church and the State, 

Now the King enjoyes the Sword again. 

Let 's render our praise for these happy dayes, 

To God and our Soveraign ; 
Your Drinking give o're, Swear not as before : [C/.p. 106. 

For the King bears not the Sword in vain. 

Fanaticks, be quiet, and keep a good diet, 

To cure your crazy brain ; 
Throw off your disguise, go to Church and be wise ! 

For the King bears not the Sword in vain. 

Let Faction and Pride be now laid aside, 

That Truth and Peace may reign ; 
Let every one mend, and there is an end, 

For the King bears not the Sword in vain. 


[Black-letter. Date, early in May, 1660.] 


[Trowbesh Transcripts : Euing, No. xcviii, b.-l. Probably unique.] 

€nglantf0 3iop in a Latoful Cnumpft. 

Bolti ^ftanattcns, now mane room ! 
Charles the Second 'g coming home, 

As it was voted in the House on May-day LAST. 

To the Tune of, Packingtoiis Pound. [Popular Music, p. 124.] 

HOld up thy head, England, and now shew thy face, 
That eighteen years hath held it down with disgrace. 
Thy comforts are coming, then cheer up thy looks ! 
Thy hopes, like thy gates, are quite off the hooks. 
Thy blessings draw near, thy joy doth appear, 
"With much expedition thy King will be here. 
May all the rich pleasures that ever were reckon'd 
Attend on the Person of King Charles the second ! 

The Bride and the Bridegroom did never so greet, 
As the King and his People together will meet. 
Though some are against it, 't is very well known 
That those that bee for it are twenty to one : [t. ' for one.' 

"Who with them will bring Allegiance, and sing 
With voices of Loyalty " God save the King ! " 
May all the rich pleasures that ever were reckon' 1 d 
Attend on the Person of King Charles the second ! 

There's none are against it, but what are partakers 
With Jesuits, Jews, Anabaptists, and Quakers ; 
But hee (like a Lion that 's rouz'd from his den) 
Will pull down the pride of ' Fifth-Monarchy-men.' 

The Preaching-House-haunters, with all their Inchanters, 
The proud Independents, the Brownists, and Ranters, 
With all the vile Sectaries that can be reckon'd, 
Wee hope will bee routed by King Charles the Second. 

The benefits which will accrew to this Land 

Are more than wee suddenly can understand : 

There 's no man of merit, in arts or in trade, 

But if he indeavour, may quickly bee made. 

Our Trade will increase, and so will our peace, 
And this will give many poor prisoners release. 

May all the rich pleasures that ever were reckon'd 

Attend on the Person of King Charles the second! 

xxviii* England's Joy in a Lawful Triumph. 

Then, aged Paul's Steeple, still hold up thy head ! 

For under thy roof shall God's Service be read ; 

And there shall be set up the Communion-Table : 

Then they shall be hang'd-up that made it a stable, 
And have no reprieves, for good men it grieves 
That God's house of prayer should be a den of thieves. 

May all the rich pleasures [that ever icere reckon' d], etc. 

The Law and the Gospel shall freely be taught, 

Which lately unto the Barebone hath been brought ; [Cf. p. xxi* 

Our Doctrine and "Worship shall flourish again, 

In spight of the pride of Schismatical men. 

Good learning and wee shall alwaies agree ; 

The two Universities cherished shall be. 
Then may all the blessings that ever were reckon 1 d 
Bee attributed unto King Charles the second ! 

Our mirth and good company shall not be checkt 

By such as do nickname themselves ' the Elect ' ! 

But wee will be merry, and spend an odd teaster, [=6«f. 

At Christmas, at Whitsuntide, Shrovetide, and Easter. 

Wee '1 play our old pranks, rejoyce and give thanks ; 

And those that oppose, wee will cripple their shanks. 
May all the rich pleasures that ever were reckon' d, etc. 

Our Exchange shall be filled with Merchants from far, 
'T is better to deal in good Trafiick than War; 
With all neighbour Nations we '11 shake hands in peace, 
By that means our treasure and trade will increase. 

With France and with Spam we '11 make leagues again, 
Wee thank them for succouring our Soveraign. 
May all the rich blessings that ever were reckon' d, etc. 

Our Shipping in safety shall rule on the Seas, 
In Italy, Naples, or what Port they please ; 
Then riches from every Country they '1 bring, 
To profit the People and pleasure the King : 

Much good wee shall reap, and treasure up-heap ; 

Good White-wine and Clarret and Sack will be cheap. 
Then we will drink healths, till they cannot be reckoned, 
To Glo'ster,* to York, and to King Charles the second. 

* Note. —Prince Henry, Duke of Gloucester, youngest son of Charles I, left 
behind him the remembrance of good qualities and no vices. He died of 
small-pox, aged twenty-one, within ten weeks after the Restoration, on the 
lird September, 1660 ; to the grief of his elder brothers, Charles and James. 

England's Joy in a Lawful Triumph. xxix* 

Our p[ulpit] and organ shall then be divided ; [text, 'pot, pipe.' 

And into the holy Cathedrals be guided 

Our choristers small, and our tall singing-men 

Shall joyfully chant to the Organ again. 

The surplice, so torn, shall newly be worn, 
And all the fair Rites that the Church do adorn ; 
Twice twenty times more than can rightly he reckon 'd, 
To the honour of God, and for King Charles the second. 

The banished Nobility then shall return, 

Who long time in disconsolation did mourn ; 

And when they 'r well settled, like right noble men, 

Good house-keeping will bee in fashion again. 

The poor that will wait, without at the gate, 
Shall have their benevolence at a good rate. 

May all [the rich blessings that ever were reckon" 1 d\ etc. 

Our Taxes will grow less and less, I suppose, 
For wee have been very much troubled with those ; 
Excise- men (I hope, too) in time will go down, 
'T is they are the torment of Country and Town. 
The Magistrates then shall bee honest men, 
The Parson shall challenge his tythe-pig again. 
May all [the rich blessings that ever were reckon d\ etc. 

"Wee shall bee the joyfullest Nation on earth, 
When once the King comes home to compleat our mirth ; 
Wee shall bee the envy of Nations unknown, 
When King Charles the second is fixt in his Throne. 
The Triumphs that then shall bee among men, 
Will prove a good subject for every good pen. 
May all [the rich blessings that ever were reckon'' d~\, etc. 

Now God send him with expedition, I pray ! 
For every good Subject doth long for the day ; 
The Bells shall ring out, and the Conduits run wine, 
The bonfires shall blaze, till our faces do shine. 
And as the sparks fly, like stars in the sky, 
" Lord, succour, preserve him, and guide him! " weeT cry. 
"May all the rich blessings that ever were reckoned 
Attend on the presence of King Charles the Second/" 


London, Printed for F\r<mcis\ G[rove], on Snow-hill. Entred according to Order. 

[Black-letter. " One large woodcut, holding portraits of King Charles, James 
Duke of York, Henry Duke of Gloucester, with the Ladies Mary, Elizabeth, 
and Anne " : Anne Clarges, Monck's wife. Date, near the end of May, 1C60.] 


[Trowbesh Transcripts : unique Black-letter : Euing, No. c] 

OEnglantrs pleasant ^a^JHotoet; ©r, 

Charles the Secoud, as we say, 
Came home the twenty-ninth of May. 
Let Loyal hearts rejoyce and sing, 
For joy they have got a Gratious King. 

The Tune is, Upon Saint David's day. [Bayford Ballads, p. 877.] 


WHy should we speak of Ccesar's acts, or Shimei's treacheries, 
Or of the grand notorious Pacts of Cromwel's tyrannies ? 
But what we might as gladly sing, and bravely chant and say, 
That Charles the second did come in, the twenty-ninth of May. 

Since that his Royal person went from us beyond the Seas, 
Much blood and treasure have been spent, but ne're obtained Peace, 
Until the Lord with- held his hand, .as we might cheerful say, 
And did a healing balsome send, the twenty -ninth of May . 

This healing balsome Sovereign is, and a very cordial thing, 
Which many evils can suppress, by vertue of a King, 
And poysoned blisters overcome which in three Kingdomes lay ; 
'T was God that sent this balsome home, the twenty-ninth of May. 

Surely he is determined, a mighty King on Earth, 
That God hath so rememb'red, and kept him from his birth ; 
As David, from the Lyon's paws, whose beard he bore away : 
So Charles the second made good Laws, the twenty-ninth of May. 

England's Pleasant May-Flower, xxxi* 

The King of Africa subdu'd by fire and by sword ; 
But Charles the second was indu'd with power from the Lord, 
Who trained wns in David's field with prayers night and day, 
That he three stately Kingdoms held, the twenty-ninth of May. 

King David had a General strong, and Joab was cal'd by name, 
But he, thro' spleen, with envy'd quarrels David did betray; 
He made him Lord of Babylon, and rul'd wher ere he came ; [May. 
But our Saint George brought home King Charles, the twenty-ninth of 

[Wqi SccontJ Part, to the same Tune.] 

Now give me leave to speak so far as truth might justifie, 
Of that most glorious blazing star at his Nativity. [p. lvi*. 

The grandest Planet of the moon shin'd glorious at noon-day : 
Which was the time King Charles was born, the twenty-ninth of May. 

I think I could myself in gage in deep Astrologie, 

To speak what this same Star presaged of Glorious Majesty : 

A mighty Monarch he shall Reign, which makes me chant and say, 

" Now brave King Charles is come again, the twenty-ninth of May." 

'T would blunt the pen of any Poet to write what may be said, 
But to the Order ' Honi soyf just tribute shall be paid. 
For such a prudent Gracious King let 's never cease to pray : 
He heal'd the Sick when he came in, the twenty-ninth of May. 

God's holy hand doth him protect, his Angels doth him guard, 
Likewise the Elements doth direct, which makes his foes affraid. 
On David's musick we will sing, and bravely chant and say, 
The glory of the world came in the twentie-ninth of May. 

He always weareth Joshtia's hands, and beareth David's praise, 
And like to upright Job he stands to wear out Abraham's dayes. 
He has the wit of Solomon, and upright in his way, 
So like to Joseph he came home, the twenty-ninth of May. 

Like Daniel he was so devout, his Star did follow him 

In all his tragedyes throughout, like that of Bethleem. 

Twelve years he travers'd Christendom, that makes me chant and say 

'T was marked out, just for his own, the twenty-ninth of May. 

Now let all people celebrate this day which is so pure, 
And to be kept by Church and State, for ever to endure, 
That Generations all might see the honour of the day, 
Which everlasting it shall be, the twenty -ninth of May. 

So God preserve our Gratious King, the Duke of Yorhe also, 
Defend them from the Dragon's sting, and every Christian Foe. 
Then let true Loyal Subjects sing, and bravely chant and say, 
The like in Enyland nere came in — the twenty -ninth of May. JmtS. 

Printed for W. Gilbertson. [Black-letter. See p. xxxii* Date, 29 May, 1660.] 

xxxii* The Scottish Girl's Complaint. 

[Original 1st cut, a crowned king, enthroned, holding Orb and sceptre; for it 
a substitute is on p. xxx*; 2nd, man hurrying (vol. iii,p. 616); 3rd, 'The Figure 
of Two,' i.e. Charles II, on p. xxx*. Date, ' Royal-Oak Day,' 29 May, 1660.] 

The Diary of John Evelyn reads thus (vol. ii, p. 113, edition 1879) : — 
" 29th [May, 1660]. — This day, his Majestie Charles the Second came to 
London after a sad and long exile and calamitous suffering, both of the King 
and Church, being 17 yeares. This was also his birth-day, and with a triumph 
of about 20,000 horse and foote, brandishing their swords and shouting with 
inexpressible joy, the wayes strewed with flowers, the bells ringing, the streetes 
hung with tapissry. fountaines running with wine, the Maior, Aldermen, and all 
the Companies in their liveries, chaines of gold, and banners ; Lords and Nobles 
clad in cloth of silver, gold, and velvet ; the windowes and balconies all set with 
ladies ; trumpets, music, and myriads of people flocking, even so far as from 
Rochester, so as they were seven houres in passing the citty, even from 2 in y e 
afternoone till nine at night. 

" I stood in the Strand and beheld it, and bless'd God. And all this was don 
■without one drop of bloud shed, and by that very army which rebell'd against 
him ; but it was y e Lord's doing, for such a restauration was never mentioned in 
any history antient or modern, since the returne of the Jews from the Babylonish 
captivity ; nor so joyful a day and so bright ever seene in this nation, this 
hapning when to expect or effect it was past all human policy." — Diary. 

*#* The original Anglo- Scotch song of ' The Scottish Lady,' or ' Scottish Girl's 
Complaint,' furnished the tune for the ensuing ' Trunk Ballad ' on p. xxxiii*. 
(The song reads, "When my Lord Monck came to England," not "went." 
Monck crossed the Tweed at Coldstream on 1st January, 16f§.) 

Cfce Scottish Girl's Complaint, 

Jot an Englishman'^ going ainarj, toljcn mo ILoro Monde came to 


ILl tide this cruel Peace, that hath gain'd a war on me ! 
I never fancied laddy till I saw mine Enemy. 
O methought he was the blithest man 
That ever I set eyes upon : 
AVell might have fool'd a wiser one, 
As he did me. 
He lookt so pretty, and talk'd so witty, none could deny, 
But needs must yield the Fort up, Gude faith ! and so did I. 

Tanlara went the trumpets, and strait we were in arms ; 
We dreaded no Invasions, embraces were our charms. 

As we close to one another sit, 

Did according to our mother wit, 

But hardly now can smother it. 
It will be known ! 
Alack and welly ! sick back and belly, never was Maid ; 
A soldier is a coming, though young, makes me afraid. 

To England back this sonnet, direct it unto none 

But to the brave Monck-hcroes, both sigh and singing moan. 

Some there are, perhaps, will take my part : 

At his bosom Cupid shake his dart, 

That from me he ne'er may part, 
That is mine own. 
O maist thou never wear bow nor quiver till I may see 
Once more the happy feature of my loved Enemy. Jt'llfg. 


[Trowbesh Transcripts, from unique Black-letter ; Euing, cxlvi.] 

£J)e Jfttncj ann Emcjtionfs jopftil Dap of Criumpb- 

8Tb e king's most (Excellent fHajcstte's &ooal ano QTrtumpbant 
, coming to London accompanied bg the cucr Jknotoneb, ljis 
(SricellenctJ the ILoro (Enteral Monck, anti a numerous company 
of fits t\ooal Peers, Herbs, fitntgbts, dttt'sens, anb ffirentru, 
ujfjo conbucteb ins Banal iftlajcstg m honour anb ^Triumph; 
from Dover to London. 

To the Tune of, The Scottish Lady, or, ' III tide that cruel peace that 
gaind a War on me.' [See p. xxxii*.] 

King Charles be now is Landed, to ease his subjects' moan, 
Those that are faithful banded he takes them for his own. 
Oh, he is our Royal Sovereign King, and is of the Royallest offspring, 
Peace and Plenty with him he '1 bring, and will set us free 
Prom all vexations, and great taxations, 
Woe and misery : 
And govern all these Nations, with great tranquility. 

Lord General of fair England marcbt forth to meet the King, 

To entertain him when he did Land, and to London him did bring. 

He is the worthy Man of Might, that doth both King and Countrey 

In whom God and man taketh delight; for surely he 

Well doth understand what he doth take in hand ; 

And most discreetly [Sreetyl'' 

He doth his warlike Troops command, renown'd to Posterity. 

The Trumpets bravely sounded, the King's Return again ; 
With joy their hearts abounded, the King to entertain: 
Aloud they sounded forth his praise, England's Glory for to raise, 
Por God is just in his wayes, assuredly. 

Most hearts then were glad, no more seeming sad, 
The bravest day that ever came, 
We happy by our King are made, to his eternal fame. 

The Citizens of London, with a most pompous Train, 

For evermore hath praise won, his favour for to gain, 

Gallantly marcht out of the Town, to King Charles' Royal Renown, 

In peace to bring him to the Crown, richly attired : 

By the Lord's persuasion, after the richest fashion, 
Greatly admired; 
The chiefest in this Nation : whose hearts with joy were fired. 

Second Division, Pkef. Note. v 


xxxiv* King and Kingdom's Joyful Day of TriumpH. 

£f)£ Scrono |3art, to the same Tune. 

r I^Hen many brave Noblemen, all most gallant and brave, 
JL Marched out of the Town then, both valiant, wise, and brave : 
Counting it a most delightful thing 
For to honour Charles our Royal King ; 
And to the Crown him in peace to bring ; [Cf. p. lviii*. 

Desiring he | now might be Crowned, 
And still Eenowned | to posterity, 
On whom Fortune had frowned j for his sincerity. 

Many thousands of Horsemen then marched o're the Plain, 
For to defend King Charles then, and him to entertain : 
Their Horses "went prancing along 
"When they were the rest among, 
And seem'd to dance amidst the throng, 
So merrily; seeming to be glad 
They that journey had; they march t on most [free], 
They were neither heavy nor sad, but went delightfully. 

Their Eiders richly 'tired in costly Cloth of Gold, 
Their journey so required, most rich for to behold. 
Oh, it was the most glorious sight 
And did my heart so much delight, 
That I could not forbear but write. 

They were such gallant Blades, and so richly drest, 
As cannot be exprest, they were most bonny Lads. 
All malice they did detest, they were such brave Comrades. 

Each Eegiment from other known by their sev'ral notes, 
As plainly it did appear, and was all in Buff Coats, 

And in silken scarfs all of green, [.Cf. p. lviii*. 

With Hats and Feathers to be seen ; 
Most rich, as well I ween, 

"Were these brave men ; England did never 
See the like ever, but may again. 
They marched most courageous, the King to entertain. 

And this doth these Lands rejoyce, and all that in them live, 
Even both with heaits and voice, and thanks to God do give, 
"Which restored unto us our King, 
And Usurpers down did fling : 
Freedom unto us to bring. 

"We shall be free from all exilements, 
And ill reviletnents : we and our posterity 
Shall have our full enjoyments, and happy dayes shall see. 

JFtnfg. J. W. [probably John Wade]. 

Loudon, Punted for John Andrews, at the White Lion, near Pye-Cornei . 

The true story of < The Trunk Ballads.' xxxv* 

[Black-letter. Three woodcuts : 1st, Charles II, crowned ; 2nd, the young 
man with long curling hair, either Charles or Pichard Cromwell; 3rd, Charles 1, 
in black hat, p. lvii*. Date, soon after 29 May, 1660.] 

The identity of four stanzas in this signed Second Part to ' Dai/ of Triumph ' 
with the remains of four similar stanzas in the mutilated account of the Four 
Pageants (perhaps no less signed, but the corner torn off), is noteworthy. The 
tuues are different, but if J. W. wrote both ballads, eleven months had intervened, 
and in April, 1661, he copied his own earlier work. See p. lviii*. 

The Restoration was a spontaneous outburst of joy, and needed no 
stimulus. Had it not been meant for a national welcome, in vain 
would have been all the caballing and underplotting, such as had 
marked abortive efforts of brave unpractical men, each one loyally 
sacrificing his life for the rightful heir's just cause ; while every 
day matters grew worse. Oliver Cromwell himself became weary of 
the vain struggle with unworkable materials, in the main his own 
miscreations. "I would have been glad to have lived under my 
woodside, to have kept a flock of sheep, rather than undertake 
such a government as this! Let God be judge between you and 
me ! " Thus be spoke to the House, 4 Feb., 165i. A few months 
later, during his last June, news came of the victory at Dunkirk. 
The protest against 'The Dominion of the Sword,' telling how 
"Law lies a bleeding" (p. xxxvi* 4 ), was then sung to the tune 
of the original 'Love lies a bleeding.'' (Compare pp. 729-732.) 

We next continue our reprint of the unique ' Trunk Ballads,' 
six in number, that, until 1841, had formed the lining of an old 
leathern portmanteau (p. xxi*), made in London, at the time 
of the Coronation; one year after that glorious ' Royal-Oak Day,' 
the twenty-ninth of May, the birthday of the welcomed King. 

Thus it was : a frugal Cheapside trunk-maker counted the cost 
of holidays, with loss of private cash for purchase of the half-dozen 
Black-letter Ballads, of date May 29, 1660, to April 23, 1661. 
Groaning the immortal words, "Bang goes saxpence ! " he 
atoned for his prodigality, by turning the broadsides into profit. 
He lined the trunk with them — at that same date, April 23, 1661. 
Of course, he charged their cost extra on the Loyal Cavalier 
who was then returning to his own home, at Wallington, in 
Northumberland ; bearing a limp purse indeed, but with pleasant 
memories of the ' Little Village on Thames.' (To it none is equal, 
not even Vienna the hospitable, or Zutetia, the city of delights, 
whereunto " all good Americans go when they die," but earlier 
if possible.) So he went back to his happy home, taking a wife 
with him, a recollection of the King's gracious smile, the beauty of 
Barbara Palmer, and the satisfaction of having seen ten Regicides 
executed coram populo. 

Thus the ' Trunk Ballads ' became heirlooms for posterity. 


€&c Potoct of tf)c ^toorD. 

To the Tune of, Love lies a bleeding. [Earlier name, The Cyclops: p. 730.] 

LAy by your Pleading, Law lies a-bleeding ; 
Burn all your studies down, and throw away your reading ; 
Small power the word has, and can afford us 
Not half so many privileges as the Sword has. 

It fosters your Pastors, it plaisters disasters, 
And makes your servants quickly greater than their masters. 

It venters, it enters, it circles, it centers, 
And makes a Prentice free in spite of his Indentures. 

This takes off tall things, and sets up small things ; [nl. ' talks of.' 

This masters Money, though Money masters all things. 

'T is not in season to talk of Reason, 

Or call it Legal, when the Sword will have it Treason. 

It conquers the Crown too, the Cloak and the Gown too; T al. 'Fur, ' 
This set up a Presbyter, and this pull'd him down too ; L '»ot Crown. 

This sub till Deceiver turn'd Bonnet to Beaver : 
Down drops a Bishop, and up starts a Weaver. 

This fits a Layman to preach and pray man, 

'T is this can make a Lord of him that was a Dray-man ; 

Forth from the dull pit or Sazbey's full pit [al. Foilie's. 

This brought an Hebrew Iron-monger to the Pulpit : [Ed. S., Anab. 

Such pitiful things be more happier than Kings be. 
This got the Herauldry of Thimblebee and Slmi/sbee. [Sir Hy. S. 

No Gospel can guide it, no Law can decide it 
In Church or State, untill the Sword hath sanctify'd it. 

Down go the Law-trix, for from that Matrix 

Sprung holy Hewson's power, and tumbled down St. Patrick's. 

The Sword prevails so highly in Wales too, 

Shin/ciu ap Poxvel cryes, and swears Cots-plutter-hur-nails too. 

In Scotland this waster did make such disaster, 
They sent their Money back, for which they sold their Master. [1646. 

It batter'd so their Gun-Kirk, and did so the Don firke, [Don John. 
That he is fled, and swears ' the Devil is in Dunkirke.' [1638. 

He that can tower o'er him that is lower 

"Would be but thought a Fool to put away his Power. 

Take Books and i - ent 'um, who would invent 'um, [ = rend. 

When as the Sword replyes, ' Negatur argument/cm ' ? 

Your grand Colledge Butlers must stoop to their Sutlers, 
There is not a Library like to the Cutlers' ; 

The blood that is spilt, sir, hath gain'd all the gilt, sir : 
Thus have you seen me run the Sword up to the hilt, sir. 

[Black-letter. Date, before Sept., 1658 : compare p. 729.] 
H Variations in copies printed after the Restoration. The allusions to Sir Henry 
Slingsby, June '58, and Dunkirk, mark the date in 1658: if they were not 
added. One version holds, misplaced (at end of fourth stanza), the lines here 
omitted : " This frighted the Flemmitig, and made him so beseeming, that he doth 
never think of his lost lands redeeming." No early broadside known : our text is 
in the Rump Collection, 1660, 1662 ; and in Merry Drollery, i, 118, 1661 ; p. 125, 
1670, 1690; in Pills, vi, 191, 1720; and in Loyal Songs, 1731. A corrupt 
version was given in The Loyal Garland, 5th edition, 1686, as " Song xxxviii, 
The Dominion of the Sword: a song made in the Rebellion, etc." The tune 
was used in 1681, and named ' Ignoramus'' : in contempt of the Shaftesbury jury. 


[British Museum Trunk Ballad, No. 5, press-mark 835, m. 10.] 

Cfte ®lorp of tfjesc Nations; 

©r, ifiing and poplc'g ^nppme0& 

Being a brief delation of Ifctug Charles's foagall ^ragrcsse from 
Dover to London ; $fofo tije ILacti ©enerall ana tlje llaro iittagor, 
ini'th, all tlje Nobilitg ano ©cntro of tlje ILano, brought jjtm 
trjoroto tlje famous d'tn of London to l]is Wallace at Westminster 
tlje 29 of May last, being pjts i^lajestte's Bfrt^ban, to tlje great 
Comfort of tjts 3Lormll Subjects. 

The Tune is, When the King enjoys his own again. [See vol. vii, p. 633.] 

"TTTHere 's those that did prognostic >te, and did envy fair England's state ; 
W And said King Charles no more should Reign? Their predictions were but 
For the King is now return'd, for whom fair England mourn 'd ; [in vain. 

His Nobles royally him entertain. 
Now " blessed be the day ! " thus do his Subjects say, 

" That God hath brought him home again." 

The Twenty-s[ixth] of lovely Mag [he] at Dover arrived, Fame doth say, [*■ 22nd. 
Where our most noble Generall did on his knees before him fall, [O. Monk. 

Craving to kiss his hand, so soon as he did land. 

Royally they did him entertain, 
With all their power and might, to bring him to his right, 

And place him in his own again. 

Then the King, I understand, did kindly take him by the hand, 
And lovingly did him embrace, rejoycing for to see his face. 
He lift him from the ground, with joy that did abound, 

And graciously did him entertain, 
Rejoycing that once more he was o' the English shore, 

To enjoy his own in peace again. 

From Dover to Canterbury they past, and so to Cobham-YLaU at last ; 
From thence to London march amain, with a triumphant and glorious Train, 
Where he was receiv'd with joy, his sorrow to destroy, 

In England once more for to raign. 
Now all men do sing " God save Charles our King, 

That now enjoyes his own again .'" 

At Deptford the maidens they stood all in white by the high-way ; 

Their loyalty to Charles to shew, they with sweet flowers his way to strew : 

Each wore a Ribbon blew, they were of comely hue, 

With joy they did him entertain, 
With acclamations to the skye, as the King passed by, 

For jog that he receives his own again. 

In Wallworth- Fields a gallant band of London 'Prentices did stand, 
All in white D[o]ublets very gay, to entertain King Charles that day, 
With muskets, swords, and pike : I never saw the like, 

Nor a more youth full gallant train 
They up their hats did fling, and cry " God save the King ! 

Now he enjogs his own again.'" 

xxxviii* The Glory of these Nations. 

At Newington-Buts the Lord Mayor willed a famous Booth for to he builded, 
Where King Charles did make a stand, and received the Sword into his hand ; 
Which his Majestie did take, and then returned back 

Unto the M ayor with love again : 
A Banquet they him make, he doth thereof partake, 

Then marched his Triumphant Tram. 

The King with all his Noblemen through Southwark they marched then ; 
First marched Major-Generall Browne, then Norwich Earle of great renowne, 
With many a valiant Knight, and gallant men of might, 

Richly attired, marching amain : 
These Lords Mordin, Gerard, and the good Earle of Cleavland, [Note, p. xxxix*. 

To biing the King to his own again. 

Near sixty flags and streamers then was borne before a thousand men, 
Jn Plush Coats and chaines of gold, these were most rich for to behold ; 
With every man his Page the glory of his age ; 

With courage bold they marcht amain : 
Then with gladnesse they brought the King ou his way, 

For to enjoy his own again. 

Then Liech field's, and Darlye's Earles, two of fair England's royall pearles ; 
Major-Generall Masiey then commanded the Life-guard of men, 
The King for to defend, if any should contend, 

Or seem his commiug to restrain: 
But all so joyful! were, that no such. durst appear, [p. lxii # . 

Now the King enjoyes his own again. 

Four rich Maces before them went, and many Heralds well content ; 
The Lord Mayor and the Geuerall did march before the King with-all. 
His Brothers on each side along by him did ride. 

The Soutlnvarlc- Waits did play amain. 
Which made them all to smile, and to stand still awhile, 

And then they marched on, again. 

Then with drawn swords all men did side, and flourishing the same, they cryed : 
" Charles the Second now God save ! that he his lawful! right may have ! 
And we all on him aitend, from dangers him to defend ; 

And all that with him doth remain. 
BUssed be God that we did live these days to see 

That the King enjoyes his own again ! " 

The Bells likewise did loudly ring, Bonefires did burn, and people sing ; 
London Conduits did run with wine ; and all meu do to Charles incline, 
Hoping now that all unto their trades may fall 

Their famylies for to maintain, 
And from wronu; be free, 'cause we have liv'd to see 

The King enjoy his own again. jTllUS. 

London, Printed for Charles Tyus on London-Bridge. 
- -<S-s«3g^K>=F«^- ■ 

[Part of a long woodcut — complete at Bodleian — K. Charles crowned and robed 
on horseback, preceded by sword-bearer and mace-bearer, also on horseback ; 
2nd, lloyal Arms, Lion and Unicorn. Black-letter. Date, circa June 1, 1660.] 

Notes. — Stanza 7. — The Lord Mayor was Sir Thomas Alleyne, who followed 
Sir John Ireton. His Sheriffs were William Bolton and Richard Peake. 
Alleyne (vel Allen, see p. xxxix*) preceded ia the Mayoralty Sir Richard Browne, 
Alderman, the suppressor of Anabaptist Vernier's insurrection in January, 1661. 

Notes to 'The Glory of these Nations.' xxxix* 

Thomas Allen is closely associated with Monck by Jo, Rowland, M.A., of 
Christ-Church Coll., Oxford, in a poem, ' In Honor of the Lord General Monck 
and Thomas Allen, Lord Mayor of London, for their great Valour, Loyalty, and 
Prudence. Epincia' (George Thomason's Coll., folio broadsides, vol. xviii, p. 28 : 
date, 22 May, 1660). Fifty-four lines in all, including this commencement : — 

" rFHus mounts the Rising Sun that guilds the day, 
JL The Morning Star his Harbinger appears, 
Dispelling mists, chasing all fogs away, 
Chearing men's hearts, dispelling nightly fears : 
The lesser stars all vanish out of sight, 
That made such twinkling in the dark of night. 
What Histories relate, if that be true, 
Saint George for England, as men us'd to sing, 
Was but a type ; that George one Dragon slew, 
This kill'd a Hydra, and brings in the King, 

Raiseth the Church and State that quite were sunk ; 
Then say, 'God save the King, and God bless Monck ! ' 

" So Walworth, that one Rebel kill'd, was not 
More honor' d than Lord Allen hath his seat, 
Whose Loyalty shall never be forgot, 
And prudence, when the danger was so great. 

For he by wisely managing his Place 
Preserves the Citie's Charter, Sword and Mace. 
When that so many Traytors here did swarm 
Within this Land, that put most, men in doubt, 
Such Vipers which no art of man could charm, 
Lord Monck and Allen nobly cast them out. 
Let them recorded be to endless date, 
Preservers of our King, the Church, and State. 
Let them be like Parhelions to the Sun : 
Wlien other stars will be combust too nigh, 
These by reflexion, as they have begun, 
Shall shine like Suns with beams of Majesty. 

Let both live Nestor's years, and when they dye 

In Heaven live with God eternally. 

" The King and People's favorites : that 's strange ! 

And seems for to import the Golden Age, 

For hardly have we heard of such a change, 

That any man could both at once engage : 

For whom the King delights in, commonly, 

The People hate, and know no reason why. " Etc. 

London. Printed by /. LT., [or, John How, May 22,] 1660. 

Stanza 8. — Sir Richard Browne had been a mpmber for London and Major- 
General under Cromwell, but was imprisoned five years by ' the Rump.' In 
Richard Cromwell's protectorate he declared how cruelly he had been used, 
" worse than a Cavalier." In October, 1660, he became Lord Mayor, and in tin- 
January following suppressed the insurrection of Venner and the " Fifth 
Monarchy" men. George, Lord Goring, was Earl of Norwich (created 1644). 
John Mordaunt, ' Mordin,' Baron Mordaunt, son of the Earl of Peterborough. 
Charles, Lord Gerard, afterwards Earl of Macclesfield; Thomas Wentworth, 
Earl of Cleaveland, who headed a company of 300 noblemen and gentry in the 
Restoration procession. They are referred to on pp. xxxiv*, xxxviii*. 

xl* How the ' Stuart Kings Touched fur the Evil? 

Stanza 10. — Charles Stuart, Earl of Litchfield, afterwards Duke of Richmond. 
Charles Stanley, Earl of Derby, son of the murdered James Stanley, 7th Earl, 
and the heroine of Lathom House in 1644, Charlotte de la Tremouille, our 
English Joan of Arc. Major- General Massey, according to Pepys, was " a very 
ingenious man, and among other things a great master in the secrecys of powder 
and fireworks " [Diary, 25 Nov., 1661). [I he Trunk Ballad reads ' Darly.'] 

¥e gave in vol. vii, pp. 680 and 682, two other Kestoration sequels or 
imitations of Martin Parker's oiiginal '• What Booker can prognosticate . 
When the Ming enjoys his own agnin" (reprinted, vol. vii, p. 633); they 
respectively bearing the burdeu of ' Now King Charles enjoys his own again ' 
and '■When the King comes home in peace again.' 1 Another variation, later in 
date, marking 23 April, 1661, is eutitled 'The Loyal Subjects' Exultation for 
the Coronation of King Charles the Second. To the tune of, When the King 
comes home in peace again.' Printed for P. Grove, on Snow-hill, and beginning, 
" What writers could prognosticate, concerning England's happy fate?" 

'A Country Song' on p. xxvi* adopts the popular burden of When the King 
enjoys his own again ! but follows neither the rhythm nor tune of Parker's ballad. 

Yet another, with the burden When the King enjoys, etc., but beginning, 
"Brave news there is, I understand, brought by one that late did laud." The 
title is 'A Worthy King's Description' : "Both Country and Citty give ear to 
this dittie, Whilst that I the praises sing, And Fame his honour out doth ring." 

Within a week after Thursday, fourth of July, 1660, John Andrews published 
J. P.'s ballad, ' The Loyal Subject's hearty Wishes to King Charles II.' 

Therein, the Stuart practice of ' touching for the Evil ' (as formerly used by 
Edward the Confessor in 1058) is adverted to, specially. John Evelyn, in his 
Diary, records that on 6 July, 1660, " His Majesty began first to Touch for the 
Evil." This would prove that the ensuing ' Trunk Ballad' is not of earlier date : 
if we could depend on the accuracy of Evelyn ; but we cannot. He did not enter 
his notes punctually, day by day, without procrastination. Moreover, he was 
formal, not a gossip or methodical listener to all news, such as was the greater 
diarist, Samuel Pepys (see p. 879) ; the most delightful of quidnuncs and 
flaneurs (let this be said reverently). Pepys mentions under date " 23rd June, 
1 (i60 : — To my Lord's lodgings, where Tom Guy came to me and there staid to 
see the King touch people for the King's-Evil. But he did not come at all, it 
rayned so ; the poor people were forced to stand all the morning in the rain in 
the garden. Afterwaids he touched them in the Banquetting -House." — Diary 
of Sam. Pepys, vol. i, p. 147, 1875, Mynors Bright edition. Pepys was not an 
eye-witness of the King's ' touching for the evil ' until 13 April, 1661. To him 
we owe best thanks, although he meant not his private records to be deciphered. 

"Moi, je flane: 
Qu'on m'approuve ou me coudainne ! 

Moi, je flane : 

Je vois tout, 
Je suis partout." — Vasimer Menetrier. 

PEr-YS held his double-life distinctly separated. In public he was grave, staid, 
faithful, and untiring, the rigid man of business. In private he was no less 
absorbed by social pleasures. Inquisitive, credulous, and gossiping, with twinges 
of contrition for peccadilloes, and spasms of economy after indulgence in luxuries, 
he seldom failed to enjoy any pageant, play, or popular sport. He beheld both 
sides of the shield. Amid his duties at the Admiralty and apart from them, 
he was a shrewd man of the world ; a Looker-on, who saw most of the game. 


[British Museum Trunk Ballads, No. 1, press-m. 835, m. 10 ; unique ] 

Cge Loyal ^uWcct'0 fieattp aBtsijcs to Emg 


He that did write these verses certainly 

Did serve his Royal Father faith iully ; 

Likewise himself he served at " orcester Fight, 

And for his Loyalty was put to flight. 

But had he a head of hair like Absalom, 

And every hair as strong as was Samson, 

I 'd venture all for Charles the Second's sake, 
And for his Majesty my life forsake. 

To the Tune, When cannons are roaring, etc. [See Note, p. xlii*.] 

ri^Rue Subjects, all rejoice, after long sadness, 
_L And now with heart and voice show forth your gladness; 

That to King Charles were true, and rebels hated, 

This song only to you is dedicated. 

For Charles, our sovereign clear, is safe returned, 

True subjects' hearts to cheer, that long have mourned. 
Then let us give God praise, that doth defend him, 
And pray, with heart and voice, ' Angels, attend him ! ' 

The dangers he hath past, from vile Usurpers, 

Now bring him joy at last; although some lurkers 

Did seek his blood to spill by actions evil ; 

But God we see is still above the Devil : 

Though many Serpents hiss him to devour, 

God his defender is, by His strong power. 

Then let us give Him praise, that doth defend him, 
And sing, with heart and voice, ' Angels, attend him ! ' 

The joy that he doth bring, if true confessed, 

The tongues of mortal men cannot express it; 

He cures our drooping fears, being long tormented ; 

And his true Cavaliers are well contented ; 

For now the Protestant again shall flourish, 

The King, our nursing father, he will us cherish. 
Then let us give God praise, that did defend him, 
And sing, with heart and voice, ' Angels, attend him ! ' 

Like Moses he is meek and tender-hearted, 
And by all means cloth seek to have foes converted ; 
But, like the Israelites, there are a number 
That for his love to them 'gainst him doth murmur. 
Bead Exodus — 't is true, the Israelites rather 
Yield to the Egyptian crew than Moses their father; 
So many Phanaticks, with hearts disloyal, 
Their thoughts and minds do fix 'gainst our King Royal. 

xlii* Loyal Subject's Wishes to King Charles II. 
JScconti ^j3art, to the same Tune. 

[Note. — The tune, When cannons are roaring, is distinct from the tune of two 
Viennese-Victory ballads, 1683, Hark ! I hear the cannons roar; and I'm glml. 
The sequel-ballad is in this ' Supplementary Note,'' p. xevi***.] 

Like holy David he past many troubles, 
And by his constancy his Joyes redoubles ; 
For now he doth bear sway, by God appointed, 
For Holy Writ doth say, ' Touch not mine Anointed." 1 
He is God's Anointed sure, Who still doth guide him ; 
In all his wayes most pure, though some deride him. 
Then let us give God praise, that doth defend him, 
And sing, with heart and voice, 'Angels, attend him /' 

Many there are, we know, within this Nation, 

Lip-love to him do show in dissimulation ; 

Of such vile Hereticks there are a number, 

Whose hearts and tongues, we know, are far asunder. 

Some do pray for the King, being constrained, 

Who lately against him greatly complained ; 

They turn both seat and seam, to cheat poor Taylors, 
But the fit place for them is under strong Jaylors. 

Let the King's foes admire, who do reject him, 

Seeing God doth him inspire, and still direct him, 

To heal those evil sores, and them to cure, ["King's Evil : p. i\* 

By his most gracious hand and prayers pure. L Introd , p. xx 
Though simple people say, ' Doctors do as much,' 
None but our lawful King can cure with a Touch : 
As plainly hath been seen since he returned, 
Many have cured been, which long have mourned. 

The poorest wretch that hath this Evil, sure 
May have ease from the King and perfect cure : 
His Grace is meek and wise, loving and civil, 
And to his enemies doth Good for Evil ; 
For some that were his Foes were by him healed : 
His liberal hand to those is not concealed ; 

He heals both poor and rich, by God's great power, 
And his most gracious Touch doth them all cure. 

Then blush, you Infidels, that late did scorn him ; 
And you that did Rebel, crave pardon of him. 
With speed turn a new leaf for your transgresses: 
Hear what the Preacher sayes, in Ecclesiastes : 
The Scripture's true, and shall for ever be taught: 
' Curse not the King at all, no, not in thy thought ! ' 
And holy Peter two commandements doth bring — 
Is first for to 'Fear God,' and then 'Honour the King.' 


Loyal Subject's Wishes to King Charles II. 


When that we had no King to guide this nation, 

Opinions up did spring by Toleration ; 

And many heresies were then advanted, 

And cruel liberties by Old Noll granted. 

Some able Ministers were not esteemed; 

Many False-Prophets good preachers were deemed. 

The Church some hated : a Barn House or Stable 
Would serve the Quakers, with their wicked rabble. 

And now for to conclude : The God of power 
Preserve and guide our King, both day and hour ; 
That he may rule and reign our hearts to cherish, 
And on his head, good Lord, let his Crown flourish. 
Let his true Subjects sing, with hearts most loyal, 
" God bless and prosper still Charles our King Royal ! " 
So now let 's give God praise, that doth defend htm, 
And sing, with heart and voice, ' Angels, attend him ! ' 

jFmt'g. J. P. 

London, Printed for John Andrews, at the White Lyon near Pye-comer. 

[Black-letter. Four woodcuts: 1st, Charles II, crowned (head only, large) ; 
2nd, Charles I, crowned also ; 3rd, a gentle young man, either Prince Charles 
or Richard Cromwell, as in No. 4 of these ' Trunk Ballads ' ; 4th, pretty girl's 
face, ridiculously patched with stars, crescents, etc. Date, July, 1660. See 
Note on p. xl* with extracts from John Evelyn and Sam. Pepys.] 

[Woodcut of next ballad : 'The Royal Entertainment.' Also for p. lxviii* ] 


[Trowbesli Transcripts, Unique Black-letter broadsides, M.F.L., i, 7.] 

Cfje iRopal Entertainment. 

Presented by the Loyalty of the City to the Royalty of the 

Soveraign, on Thursday the fourth of July, 1660. When 

the City of London invited his Majesty, the Duke of York, 

the Duke of Gloucester, and their Royal Retinue, to a Feast 

in the Guild-hall, London ; to which the King was conducted 

by the chiefest of the City Companies on Horse-back, 

entertained by the Lord Mayor, Aldermen, and Common- 

Councill, guarded from Whitehall to Guildhall by the 

Artillery men, led by the Illustrious James Duke of York; 

met by diverse Pageants, with sundry devices, and the 

Livery attending in their Order. The Hall was richly 

appointed with costly Hangings, the Floores raised, Organs 

erected, [wi]th all sorts of Musick, performed by the Ablest 

Masters in England, with all Varieties that Art, Plenty, and 

Curiosity can present. 

To the Tune of, Packingtoti 1 's Pound. 

MY pen and my fancy shall never give o're, 
to write of the triumphs which Providence brings ; 
Such glory and gladnesse was ne'r known before 
from William quite thorow the reign of the Kings. 
Our sorrow and grief is turned to relief, 
And Comfort is now a Commander-in-Chief: 
As manifestly will appear in this ditty, 
When London invited the King to the City. 

Which was so performed with honour and glory, 

with order and gallantry, freedom and mirth, 
The like, I presume, hath been scarce seen in story, 
or ever was known since the oldest man's birth. 
Such pleasures divine in all eyes did shine, 
Our God hath converted our water to wine. 
All things that were excellent, pleasant, and witty, 
Were shown to the King when he came to the Citg. 

Guild-hall was prepared with costly expence, 

and alter'd to entertain this kingly guest, 
Where with all variety every sense 

was courted with plenty at this Royal Feast. 
Invention and State upon him did wait, 
The City and Suburbs with people were fraught : 
And no kind of joy that was worthy or witty 
Was wanting to iveleome the King to the Citg. 

The Royal Entertainment in the City, July, 16G0. xlv* 

"With habits compleat, and with hearts light as cork, 

Lord Lucas conducted th' Artillery men 
To White-hall to wait upon James Duke of York, 
who led them all iuto the City again. 

They guarded our King from every thing, 
Of dangers that might from conspiracy spring. 
"With loud acclamations both pleasant and pretty 
The King was conducted with joy to the City. 

The chiefs of the Companies, gallantly mounted, 

with lackeys in Liveries attending in State, 
Did shew very famous, and so were accounted, 
who did to Guild-hall on his Majesty wait. 
The Livery in order did stand like a border : 
The Lord Mayor, the Aldermen, and the Recorder, 
"With all the magnificence fancy can fit yee, 
Did Royally welcome the King to the City. 

2T{je Sccono" ^art, to the same Tune. 

[ Woodcut of three Cavaliers, as on p. xliii*.] 

THe King was contented, and very well pleas'd, 
as by his most gracious respects did appear ; [2 aspects. 

To see his good people his heart was well eas'd, 
for surely he holdeth the City most dear : 

Not like the Rump-States, which threw down the Gates, 
Or like to Jack Sew son the Cobler and 's mates; [p. liv*. 
Or any false Powers that were lowzie and nitty 
Who aim , d to demolish the Charter o' th' City. 

With fingers and voices the chiefest that were 

with loud and soft Musick did make the Hall ring ; 
That Science did in its best glory appear, 
and was only fit for to welcome a King ; 

With voices renown'd the Banquets were crown'd, 
In Cathedral manner the organs did sound. 
All sorts of Invention, both wondrous and witty, 
Were fitted to -welcome the King to the City. 

Pageants did there in their glory appear, 

the figures did seem all alive, as it were ; 
In silver and gold they did shine, very near 

as bright as the Sun when the day doth shine clear; 
The Conduits did shine with liquor divine, 
The people did bear away hats full of wine. 
To run down the streets it was very great pity, 
And thus teas the Tuny entertain d in the City. 

xlvi* Royal Entertainment in the City, July, 1660. 

The rooms with rich hangings were brightly attir'd, 

the air smelt of nothing but costly perfumes, 
As if the whole world at tbat time had conspir'd 
to throw all varieties into the rooms. 

The King sate in State, the City did wait, 
The Hall did abound in all manner of Plate, 
As if they would tell bim, " Great Ccesar, we '1 fit yee 
With all the choice treasures helonys to the City." 

The plenty of food which was there at the Feast, 

with flesh, fisb, and fowl, and rare kick-shawes among, 
In such a small ditty can ne're be exprest, 
they cannot be marshall'd all up in a song. 

The Cooks' art was great, and pallat was neat, 
The Pastry appear' d in its order compleat. 
What ever was curious, novelty, or witty, 
Attended the King in the love of the City. 

The Earth and the Air and the "Water conspir'd 

to shew all the plenty tbe Kingdome could yield ; 
It can't be exprest, but may well be admir'd, 

the dishes stood thicker than flowers in the field. 
A friend of mine vow'd, that stood in the crowd, 
Hee saw a large Banquet let down in a cloud : 
Which needs must appear very pleasant and pretty 
Unto the beholders, the King, and the City. 

With freedome and honour, and safety and love, 

the King spent the day, then to White-hall he went. 
May all the choice blessings which God hath above, 
fall on his head daily to crown his content ! 
May plenty and peace and union increase, 
May Amity live, and may enmity cease ! 
May God, in his mercy, love, favour, and pity, 
And never divide the yood King and the City ! Joint's. 

London : Printed for Francis Grove, on Snow-hill. Entred according to Order. 

[Black-letter. Two woodcuts: 1st, a King (half Roman, half Stuart), presenting 
another King to wife and daughter ; 2nd is on p. xliii*. Date, July, 16G0.] 


^[ Thus far everything had passed well. Loyalty and joy were 
openly proclaimed. A few irreconcilable fanatics held hack, 
lurking in dark corners, impotently planning insurrection. 

The rottenness and imbecility of the Rump Parliament in its last 
days, when ' crying out for the earth,' alienated all sound-minded 
men who were still left in the land. The Rebellion thus collapsed. 
Miserable had been the results of the 'dominion of the Sword.' 

How Parliament had been 'Routed' in 1653. xlvii* 

When Cromwell had by force expelled the already degraded 
Commons in 1653, he resisted any compnnctitious visitings of 
remorse concerning the former outcries of "Privilege, privilege!" 
from himself and others against the impatient out vacillating 
King Charles I, for his having attempted to personally arrest 
' The Five Members.' It is more in accordance with Oliver's 
character to believe that whatever he himself chose to perform w;is 
thereby certified to be right, although other men were disqualified 
and disfranchised.* What mockeries of all the clamour for 
individual and national rights were the Parliamentary and military 
encroachments on Liberty, unredressed and unrepented ! While 
foreign enemies were kept in awe, true Englishmen were sold into 
slavery, doomed to an early death at the Plantations, and those who 
still dwelt in the land were impoverished to the last degree, 
scarred with old wounds, and burdened with mournful regrets for 
kindred whom they had lost on battlefield or scaffold. Was there to 
be no requital of these foul wrongs? Insensate and brutal, no doubt, 
were the insults wreaked at Tyburn on the dead bodies of Cromwell, 
Bradshaw, and Ireton. But the funeral pageantry of the Protector's 
obsequies, displayed with more than regal ostentation ; his burial 
among Kings and Queens in Westminster Abbey (the cost being 
left undefrayed by Parliament, to fall blightingly on his son 
Kichard), seemed to challenge inevitably a reversal of the pomp. 
Men remembered with what maimed rites the martyred king had 
been laid low. They marked the contrast in September, 1658. 

* Note.— As to the expulsion of the Parliament, when Cromwell sent away the 
' bauble ' on 20 April, 1653, an account of it was given by Sam. Sheppard, who 
wrote other political ballads (see also Introduction, p. civ***) : viz., one entitled 
' Parliament Pouted ; or. Here 's a House to be Let.' Begins, " Cheare up, kind 
country-men, be not dismay'd ! True newes I can tell you concerning the nation." 

It is not reprinted in the ' Rump ' Collections, or among later ' Loyal Songs.' 
We give the ninth and tenth of Sheppard's twelve stanzas, sung to the tune of 
Lucina (vol. iii, 47, 323), or, Merrily and Cherrily (Dancing-Master, 1651). 

" The Generall — perceiving their lustful dpsire [01. Cromwell. 

to covet more treasure, being puft with ambition, 
By their Acts and their Orders to set all on fire, 

pretending Religion to rout Superstition — 
He bravely commanded the Souldiers to goe 

in the Parliament-house in defiance of any, 
To which they consented, and now you do know 

that twelve Parliament-men may be sold for a penny. 

" The Souldiers undaunted laid hold on the Mace, 

and out of the Chaire they rebuked the Speaker. 
The great ones were then in a pittiful case, 

and Taffy cry'd out, 'All hur Cold must forsake hur !' [= Gold. 
Thus they were routed, pluckt out by the eares, 

the House was soone empty, and rid of a many 
Usurpers that sate there these thirteen long yea res : 

twelve Parliament-men may be sold for a penny." 

xlviii* Author of 'A Jolt on Michaelmas-day* 1654. 

The Long Parliament's pretentious ' Self-denying Ordinance ' had never 
restrained the greed of individual members. See the revelations of plunder in 
' The Mystery of the Good Old Cause briefly unfolded, in a Catalogue of such 
Members of the late Long Parliament, that held Places, both Civil and Military, 
contrary to the Self-denying Ordinance of April 3, 1645. Together with, The 
Sums of Money and Lands which they divided among themselves during their 
sitting (at least, such as were disposed of by them publicly). 1660.' Compare 
the valuable ' Index of the Names of the Royalists whose Estates were Confiscated 
during the Commonwealth.'' Compiled by Mabel G. W. Peacock (Index Society, 
1879). Among the factious Commons, in their private lives as also in their 
public acts, hypocrisy and cunning kept pace with cruel tyranny and extortion. 
Cromwell flung reproaches on them in their arrogance and double disaffection, 
long after "the House had been purged" of the scrupulous Presbyterians. As 
to the Independants and Fifth-Monarchists, Oliver, who knew them best, thus 
reviled them: "Some of you are whoremasters. Others are drunkards, some 
corrupt and unjust men, scandalous to the profession of the Gospel. It is not 
fit that you should sit as a Parliament any longer ! " He was looking fixedly at 
Henry Marten and Sir Peter Wentworth. They had been unworthy to sit at all. 
None dared resist Cromwell, with soldiers at his back. None courted martyrdom. 

The character of the Puritans had been epitomized by John Birkenhead in 
1647 as ' Little Jack Horner.'' ("Wycherley used the name, as inuendo against 
an adulterer, in 1675.) He showed not only their stealthy greediness, gloating 
on forbidden dainties (although prone to " quarrel with mince-pies, and disparage 
their best and dearest friend plum-porridge," as Hudibras admitted), but their 
arrogant antinomianism also — " Stand back ! for I am holier than thou ! " 

" T Ittle Jack Horner slunk into a corner, 
J_> Eating our Christenmass-Vye : 

With finger and thumb he firkt out a plum, r He has been saving 

Saying, ' "What a Good Boy ami!'" L *< ever since. 

Amid the cruelties and oppressions wrought by the revolted Parliament and 
their rebel Army, English Cavalier-maidens shunned the Puritans who traduced 
and impoverished them. John Birkenhead in epigrams immortalized a type of 
each. They have survived to this day, among Nursery- Rhymes. 

Ittle Miss Muffet she sate on a tuffet, 

Eating of curds -and- whey ; [' Food for Infants.' 

There came a big Spider, that sat down beside her, 
And frighten'd Miss Muffet away." 

The black 'Spider' with a red nose was evidently Oliver Cromwell, whose 
own " fall from a coach — his next will be from a cart " — was celebrated in ' A 
Jolt on Michaelmas Day,' 1654 (see p. 732), written by the same clever satirist. 
John Birkenhead had been formerly amanuensis to Archbishop Laud, and Fellow 
of All Souls, Oxford ; then became founder and sole editor of Mercurius Aulicus, 
from 1642 to 1645. He followed Charles II in exile, was knighted by him in 
1649. The degree of D.C.L. was conferred on him by Oxford, soon after 
the Restoration. Also he was elected Member of Parliament for Wilton, and 
a Fellow of the Royal Society. To Birkenhead we owe many smart ballads in 
the 'Pump Collection' of 1660-62. It includes his 'Four-legged Quaker' at 
Horsley (one Ralph Green), to the tune of, Mad Tom of Bedlam, and beginning, 
" All in the Land of Essex, near Colchester, the zealous." (It is a companion 
piece to Denham's 'The Four- Legg'd Elder ' : "All Christians and Lay Elders 
too, for shame amend your lives ! I '11 tell you of a dog-trick now, which much 
concerns your wives." ' To the tune of, The Ladle's Fall ; or, Gather your 
Rosebuds ; or fifty other tunes.') It was also reprinted, in sheer ignorance, 
among ' The Poems of John Cleveland, Revived,' 1662. 



[British Museum Trunk Ballads, No. 6, press-mark 835, m. 10. Unique.] 

3 Eeiation 

©f the ten gratrtJ infamous ^Tractors, mho far t^et'r horrio JHurccr 
ana detestable Ut'Ilanrj arjafnst our late Sa&erafgtiE 3Loro aKt'nn; 
Charles tfie jFirst, that ebcr blesscb JHartgr, mere arratrrnca, 
trgeo, ana executed m the moneth of October, 1660* ra>icfi in 
perpetuftn fafll be ftao m remembrance unto the inorlo's eno. 

Ocfob. 13, lfifiO. Sat. Harrison. Mund. Carew. Tuesd. Peters and Coofo. [Wed.] 
Greg. Clement, [J.] Jones, [2 1 .] Scot, and [Adrian] Scroope. [Fri.j Backer, Axtel. 

The Tune is, Com^, fe£ ««s Drink, the time invites. [See pp. L*, xciv*.] 

HEe that can impose a thing, and shew forth a reason, 
For what was done against the King, from the Palace to the 
Let him here with me recite, for my pen is bent to write [Prison, 
The horrid facts of Treason. 

Since there is no learned Scribe, nor Arithmatician, 
Ever able to decide the usurped base Ambition, 
Which, in truth I shall declare, Traytors here wh[o] lately were, 

Who wanted a Phisician. 

For the grand Disease that bred, Nature could not weane it ; 
From the foot unto the head, was putrifacted treason in it : 
Doctors could no cure give, which made the Squire then believe 

That he must first begin it. [Squire = Hangman. 

And the Physick did compose, within a pound of reason ; 
First to take away the Cause, then to purge away the Treason ; 
With a dosse of Hemp made up, wrought as thick[ly as a] rope, 
And given them in \_due season.~\ 

The Doctors did prescribe at last to give 'm this potation, 
A vomit or a single cast, well deserv'd, in Purgation ; 
After that to lay them downe, and bleed a veine in every one, 
As Traytors of the Nation. 

So when first the Phisicke wrought, the 1 3th of October, 

The patient on a Sledge was brought, like a Kebell and a Rover, 

To the execution Tree, where [he] with much dexterity 

Was gently turned over. [On narHson. 

<£hc Srcono $art, to the same Tune. 

IX/jUnday was the 15th day, as Careio then did follow, [wallow ; 
Of whom all men, I thinke, might say, in tyranny did deeply 
Tniytor proved unto the King, which made him on the Oallowes swing, 
t And all the people hollow ! 

Second Division, Pref. Note. <?* 

l* A Relation of the Ten infamous Traitors, executed. 

Tuesday after, Peters, Cocke, two notorious Traytors, 

That brought our Soveraigne to the blocke, for which [they] were 

hang'd and cut in quarters ; [John Coke. 

'T was Cocke which wrought the bloody thing, to draw the Charge 

against our King, 

That ever blessed Martyr. 

Next, on Wednesday, foure came, for Murther all imputed, 
There to answer for the same which in Judgement were confuted ; 
Gregorie Clement, Jones, and Scot, and Scroop together, for a Plot, 
Likewise were executed. 

Thursday past, and Friday then, to end the full conclusion, 

And make the Traytors just up ten, that day were brought lo 

execution ; 
Hacker and proud Axtell [t]he[y], at Tyburn for their treachery 
Received their absolution. 

Being against the King and States, the Commons all condemn'd 'm, 
And their quarters on the Gates hangeth for a Memorandum, 
'Twixt the heavens and the earth : Traytors are so little worth, 
To dust and smoake wee 'I send 'm. 

Let now October warning make to bloody minded Traytors, 

That never Phisicke more they take, for in this moueth they lost 

their quarters ; 
Being so against the King, which to murther they did bring, 

The ever blessed Martyr. [Jim's. 

London, Printed for Fr. Coles, T. Vere, M. Wright, and W. Gilbertson. 

[Black -letter. Three cuts: 1st, Young Squire, vol. vii, p. 279, left; 2nd, 
Cavalier, reverse of p. 542, post ; 3rd, a beheading on a scaffold, one man 
kneels at a high block, spectators in front. Date, October, 1660.] 

*** Note on the Tune mentioned. — Four editions of ' The Loyal Garland ' 
perished, before the fifth edition, 1686 (one reprinted for the Percy Society, 
No. LXXXIX, in Sept., 1850, by the late J. 0. Halliwell, F.S.A., afterwards 
Halliwell-Phillipps) ; but it contains ' The New Droll,' Song xxvii. This in 
Pepys Coll., IV, 243; Eawlinson, 84; Douce, II, 143, vo. (cf. vii, 641), is 
' The Loyal Subject ; or, Praise of Sack.' It became popular before October, 1660. 
Printed by E. C. for Francis Coles, Vere, and Wright ; Douce's exemplar was 
printed for Wright, Clarke, Thackeray, and Passenger. Eight stanzas. It begins : 

" Come let us drink, the time invites, winter and cold weather, 

For to pass away long nights, and to keep good Wits together ; 
Better far than Cards or Dice, Isaac's ball — that quaint device, 
Made up with fan and feather. 

" We that drink have no such thoughts, black and void of reason ; 
We take care to fill our vaults with good Wine for every season ; 
And, with many a chirping cup, we blow one another up, 
And that 's our only treason." 

(Given complete on p. xciv*, from a Cavalier manuscript circa 1656.) 

Exemptions reserved from General Amnesty. li 


In the ballad, printed on p. xxvii*, "Hold up thy head, England" 
(of date soon after May Day, probably on May 9), amid the joyous 
anticipations of King Charles coming home speedily, there were 
ominous hints that reprisal was desired ; long before the fanatical 
1 Fifth-Monarchy ' men of Thomas Venner attempted a fresh revolt. 

" The Preaching-house haunters, with all their Inchanters, 
The proud Independents, the Brownists, and Ranters, 
With all the vile Sectaries that can be reckon'd, 
We hope tvill be routid by King Charles the Second." 

Zealous Churchmen remembered their own sufferings under the 
so-called Protectorate of Oliver Cromwell. They looked forward 
to having their losses repaid. They no less looked for punishment 
of their late oppressors, the desecrators of cathedrals, with wanton 
destruction and sacrilege. The rebel Parliament's soldiers had 
embittered life, and caused actual starvation. Each parish church 
bore testimony against the ' Dowsing' spoliators ; and men hoped that 

" Then they should be hanged up that made it a Stable." 

When Cromwell gained supreme authority, he dared not be called king. In his 
final years he sought to rule peacefully, beyond fears of mutiny or assassination, 
instead of being perpetually harassed by his insubordinates. The discordant 
'Rump' Parliament, having always feared the Army, had used him as a tool, 
but lacked the power to crush him. They were the worst foes of liberty. When 
Oliver passed away, sick and weary, the anarchy among the surviving plotters 
excited universal disgust. The citizens welcomed Monck, the Dragon Slayer, to 
the tune of Sir Eglamore and the Dragon (see Roxb. Ballads, vol. hi, 607) : 

" General George, that valiant wight, 
He took his sword and he would go fight ; 
And as he rode through London town, 
Men, women, posts, and gates fell down. [Feb. 9, 16^0- 

" But turning about, towards Westminster, 

He saw it must come to Fight Dog, Fight Bear ; 

For there an Old Dragon sate in its den, 

Had devour'd (God knows how many) brave men." Etc. 

Hoiv Gen. George MoncJc slew a Cruel Dragon. 

Another unique ballad, to the old tune of PackxngtovCs Found, and from the 
same publisher, Francis Grove, issued later in the autumn, had for its title, 
' The High Court of Justice of Westminster [of January, 164§] arraigned at 
the Bar in the Old-Bayley at the Sessions- House, where those that adjudged and 
murthered the Royal Person and Sacred Majesty of King Charles the First are 
for that horrid Fact brought to their Legal Tryal, according to the known Laws 
of the Land.' It begins, "The manifold changes that have passed of late." 
With 'England's Black Tribunal; or, King Charles's Martyrdom' ("True 
Churchmen"), it forms a memorable prelude to the ' Trunk Ballad' here given, 
a 'Relation of the ten infamous Traitors,' executed in the month of October, 1660. 
Sir Henry Vane was not beheaded until 14 June, 1662: this tardy punishment 
might be deemed cold-blooded and unnecessary. Yet, all things considered, 
the legitimate reprisals exacted from the regicides were scanty. Had each 
one been punished who deserved forfeiture of life, there would have been 
wholesale butchery instead of a compromise. Crimes and outrages had followed 
in the wake of sedition Vane deserved his fate (see p. lv*) ; nothing could 
absolve his treachery against Strafford in 1C40. 

lii* " Retribution comes, unfalteringly, but slou-.'" 

Two other distinct ballads on the Execution of King Charles the First have 
been already reprinted in vol. vii, pp. 622 and 625 : both of them were formerly 
in Thomas Pearson's Collection, II, 570 and 571, but lost from it when it 
became ' The Roxburghc ' : recovered, and reprinted by us in these volumes, 
as have been the whole of the lost Twelve. Let us here now mention another: 
' King Charles, His Speech, and last Farewell to the "World, made upon the 
Scaffold at White-hall-gnte, on Tuesday, January 30, 1648 [i.e. 164|].' It 
begins, " Faire England's joy is fled." (This opening line resembled that of 
'Essex's Death' = "Sweet England's pride is gone: Weluday I Weladay .'") 
All that remains of it is reprinted on p. xc*** of our General Introduction to 
vol. viii. It lacks the Second Part, and there is no other exemplar known. 

The late Thomas Wright, M.A., F.S.A. [oh. Dec. 1877), dropped the mask of 
impartiality, when writing his few notes to the Percy Society ' Political Ballads 
published in England during the Commonwealth. 1 He minimized the crimes of 
the Long Parliament sectaries, their mutual jealousies and recriminations ; the 
servility of the Army while dependent on them for pay, afterwards to become 
defiant ; the duplicity and cruelty of Oliver Cromwell and his abettors (even 
' Black Tom ' Fairfax consenting to the cold-blooded murder of Sir Charles Lucas 
and Sir George Lisle, after the surrender of Colchester in 1648). 

Numerous and indefensible were the butcheries of conquered or betrayed 
Royalists on a public scaffold, without counting the worst and most stupid 
blunder, the beheading King Charles I, after a mock trial, in an illegally 
constituted ' High Court of Justice.' Preparations had been made with ropes 
and pulleys to drag him down, like a bullock in the shambles, in the event of 
his refusal to kneel down at the block. This was Oliver's device, or Marten's : 
they had in horseplay inked each other's face while signing the death-warrant 
of the 'royal martyr.' (See State Trials, vol. v, 1,128, 1,200; and S. R. 
Gardiner's Great Civil War, iii, 598.) The Great Rebellion was played for 
the self-aggrandizement of rebels. When it was lost, solicitations being made 
to Charles II to return to his kingdom and expectant people, in May, 1660, it 
was fitting that the gambliug plotters and regicides who had survived from 
1649 should pay the forfeit. It was not exacted by the restored king, but 
by the now dominant party of loyalists, who had for nearly eighteen years 
"suffered persecution, but had not learned mercy.'''' Nevertheless, Thomas 
Wright, a Quaker by birth and training, in his disloyalty wrote thus in 1841 : — 

" No measure threw more disgrace on the Restoration than the prosecution of the 
regicides, and the heartless and sanguinary manner in which it was conducted 
tended more than auy other circumstance to open the eyes of the people to the 
real character of the Government to which they had been betrayed. Pepys 
observes on the 20th Oct., 'a bloody week, this and the last have been; there 
being ten hanged, drawn, and quartered.' " — Vol. iii, p. 230 {Percy Society). 

Wright's statement is utterly false. It misrepresents the national temper. 
" Betrayed," forsooth ! There were earlier and worse betrayals. Brutal butchery 
excited disgust. Put such had always been customary, and would continue to be 
so under James II, William III, and the two early Georges. The barbarities 
wrought against the Jacobites in 1746 can never be forgiven. 

It ought to be noted that those who clamoured loudly for the execution of the 
regicides were, for the most part, Presbyterians who had suffered spoliation and 
insult at their bands : not the Cavaliers (worst plundered, imprisoned, and 
murdered of them all). If any blame be needed, let it fall on the sectaries : 
not on the Restoration, which was scarcely " thorough " enough. 

A ballad, ' The Traytors' Downfal ; or, A brief relation of the Downfal of that 
Phanatick crew, who Trayterously Murdered the late King's Majesty of blessed 
memory,' is on p. liii*. It has a curious history, having had a threefold issue. 


[Trowbcsh Transcript of Manchester F. Lib. Ballads, I, 21 ; Euing, 3J0.] 

Cbe emptors' Dotonfal; ©r, 

& irief relation of ttje Uofcottfal of t^at Pfjanatt'ck crcfo, iuljo 
<£ragtcrousIg ^utocreo tlje late letmrj's jiHajcstg of blcssco 

The Tune is, Fa la la, etc. [See pp. 317, li* ; and vol. vii, p. 6G0.] 
[Woodcut of King Charles I, in an ermined robe : compare p. xxx*.] 

COme hither to me, and I will declare, with a fa la la la lalero, 
How cruel -hearted Tyrants are, with \_afa la la, etc. [passim. 

Or those that did presume so high, to murder our good King's Majesty, 
Now may these Rebbels howl and cry : With a fa la la la lalero. 

He was a Prince of courage stout : although his glass was soon run out : 

But behind him he hath left a noble stock, may give a Traytor a handsome knock, 

For [ma]king a King to submit to the block: With a fa, etc. 

The blood [that he] lost, as I suppose, caus[ed fire to ri]se in Oliver's nose ; 
His rousing Nose did bear such a sway, it cast such a heat, in shining ray, 
That England scarce knew the night, from day : With a fa, etc. 

Oliver was of Huntington : born he was a Brewer's son, [pp. 729, 732. 

He soon forsook his dray and sling, and counted a Brewer's horse a pittiful thing ; 
Then he came to the stately throne of a King : With a fa la la, etc. 

Oliver had a heart of gall, for to murder his Prince at White-hall. 

He swore whoever was over the main, whether a French King or of Spain, 

Yet in England no King should remain : With a fa la la, etc. 

[Wi)t Seconti Part. To the same Tune.] 

DTJke Humphrey was the first Protector : with a fa la la la lalero. 
Henry the Sixt [had] the next Protector : With a fa la la, etc. 
Then thirdly Oliver he took place, but Lucifer soon removed his Grace, 
Then he set up young Lick, the fool of his race : With a fa, etc. 

No sooner was Dick got up to the throne, but he considered 't was none of his own, 
And staring this way and that about, desiring to be resolved of a doubt, 
Then in came Lambert, and turned him out : With a fa la la, etc. 

Fleetwood, desirous of the place, sent forth Lambert the Scots to face, 

And being in the strength of his desire, when he did think poor Jockey to brier, 

His men forsook him, and left him in the mire : With a fa, etc. 

Thus you may see how some do rise, with an intent to surmount the skies, [all, 
But when they are up, they shall have a fall, witness Fleetwood, blind Hewson and 
The ragged rout of a Cobler's stall : With a fa la la, etc. 

We '11 clear White-hall of Lobsters and Geese, turn Humps and Kidnies out 

of the house ; [i.e. • devil's fees.' 

We'll bring in Charles from over the main, make wars with France and peace 
Then we shall have money and Trading again : With a fa, etc. [with Spain; 

Citizens, look to yourselves, I say, let no Coblers preach and pray : [together : 
Tom Cobler is flown, the Lord knows whither ; Fleetwood and he I hope are 
Now we 've brought in the King, and we '11 have fair weather : With a fa, etc. 



The runaway 'Hewson the Cobler.' 

Blind Hewson was not of our kind : With a fa la la la lalero, 
To run away, and leave his men behind : With a fa la la, etc. [Parl'ament 

But I wish I could find him by the scent ! there 's neither the Law nor the Rump 
Should save him from death to give us content, [Good People, pity the Blind ! ] 

With a fa la la la lalero. 

A List of the names of those Traytors that w[ere sentenced to be hang]ed, 
drawn, and quartered for murd[er]ing th[eir lawful so]veraign of blessed 
memory, Charles the Fi[rst, viz. these ten :] Thomas Harrison, John Carew, 
Tho. S[cott, along with Gregjory Clement, John Jones, Adrian Scroo[pe, 
Hugh] Peters, John Cook, Col. [Daniel] Axtel, Col. Hac[ker. These were to be 
executed on October 13th, one ; loth, one ; 16th, two ; 17th, four ; 19th, two.] 

^Printed for /. Andrews and /. Garraway, and are to be sold at the White- 
Lyon, near Py[_e- corner.] 

[Black-letter. Two cuts : 1st, an enthroned King, with crown, etc. ; 2nd, the 
Devil bearing a Roundhead to the mouth of Hell. Date, October, 1660.] 


" Would Hewson had both his eyes ! " 
1 This is a caricature portrait of ' Lord Hewson the cobbler ' (holding 
a boot-last in one hand, a leather-cutter's knife in the other). It belonged 
to an earlier version of this same ballad (already reprinted, vol. vii, p. 662) : 
possibly issued before the landing at Dover of King Charles on 25 May, 1660 
(Luttrell Coll., II, 36, bearing the title 'King Charles his Glory, and the 
Rebels' Shame'). It held a different first stanza from our later Lancashire 
broadside (which was certainly not issued before the mid- October following) ; 
also a tenth stanza that does not reappear : moreover, each stanza held finally 
an extra half-line, rhyming with each first half-line. These differences, and 
some minor details, made it expedient to reprint this third issue here, intact. 
Noteworthy is it, also, that the Glasgow broadside (Euing Coll., No. 350 ; 
probably the second issue) bears identically the same title as the third issue, 
now given, viz. ' The Traytors' Downfal,' yet repeats the Luttrell first stanza : 
for which our opening stanza, " Come hither ! " (p. liii*), was substituted later : 

" ^hakles the First was a Noble King, Fa la la la la la : 

\J His fame thorow all the world did ring, Fa la, etc. 
But in this he was to blame, that after all his pomp and fame, 
To lose himself at a Scottish Game {Fa la, etc.). 'Tivas but a foolish thing." 

Triformation of Ballad : 'Traitors' Downfall? lv* 

[The Luttrell tenth stanza (here given) failed to follow our ninth : — 

' ' When Dame Fortune casteth a frown, these upstart Gallants fall headlong down : 
I could wish they would view their own state, and Repent before 'tis too late, 
For fear lest a Gibbet will be their last fate, or whipping about the Town."'] 

The remodelling was clumsily done by another hand. Here are the foolishly 
cancelled half-lines, beginning with the second stanza, " He was a Prince," etc.: 
Then Hewson's eye goes out. — Good Lord, preserve Charles his house ! — It far 
surpas'd a Tun. — Lest Nol himself should fall. — Dick lov'd a cup of Nectar. — So 
Lambert's courage was shown. — Ay, and that was his disgrace ! — Would Hewson 
had both his eyes ! [Next stanza missing.] — And then we care not a louse. — 
Whip Coblers-run-away ! — Good People, pity the Blind! 

If it be objected that the tone of the triformed ballad is too mocking for such 
a subject as the Regicide and its consequences, we must remember how ridiculous 
had been the vagaries of ' the Clown ' Desborough, Oliver's brother-in-law ; of 
Fleetwood, who displaced Richard Cromwell ; of his rival in ambition, John 
Lambert ; of the debauched scoffer, Henry Marten (see pp. xlviii*, lii)* ; 
and of the intolerant, dreary Sir Henry Vane the younger (who might have 
avoided a public execution if he had taken advice from "More Sacks to the 
Mill," 11 January, 16|§, by following the example of his own father, 'Old 
Harry,' and Alderman John Hoyle, who hanged themselves). In 1653 Oliver 
Cromwell had prayed, " The Lord deliver me from Sir Harry Vane ! the Lord 
deliver me from Sir Harry Vane ! " It was thus that men sung of Vane : 

" Methinks in his eyes the waters do gather, 

As if the Lord Strafford's death troubled his sight ; 
Perhaps he repents and means {like his Father) 
Ev'n in his own garter ^ j ^jg ctUq^ right." 


Others of 'The Gang' (see vol. vii, p. 658) were to fulfil their destiny, some 
perishing on the scaffold at Charing Cross, some lingering in prison, like Haselrigge 
in the Tower, Lambert at Guernsey, and Marten at Chepstow Castle. 

IT "Lord Colonel" John Hewson escaped beyond seas, to avoid trial, and 
died at Amsterdam, in 1662 ; having been exempted from amnesty, he was 
condemned in contumaciam : his picture was hung on the gallows at Tyburn. 
His fate, with that of the regicides, Peters, Harrison, and Hacker, had been 
prefigured in a Dialogue : Tower-Hill scaffold consigning them to Tyburn — 

" They are a sort of mongrels, which my lordly scaffold will disgrace ; 
I know Hugh Peters his fingers itch to make a pulpit of the place. 

" But take him, Tyburn ! he is thine own, divide his quarters with thy knife, 
Who did pollute with flesh and bone the quarters of the Butcher's Wife. [p. xix*. 

" There 's Hacker, zealous Tom Harrison too, that boldly defends the bloody deed, 
He practiseth what the Jesuites do, to murder his king as part of his Creed. 

" There's single-eyed Hewson the Cobler of Fate, translated into Buff and 

Feather ; 
But bootless are all his Seams of State when the Soul is unript from the 

Upper-leather." — A Quarrel betwixt Tower-Hill and Tyburn. 

This ' Group of Restoration Ballads ' would end inappropriately 
with the ' Relation ' of punishment having fallen on the ten less 
guilty regicides. The greater criminals had escaped by private 
deathbeds, generally, like John Bradshaw, without repentance. No 
reaction had set in, and certainly the restoration of monarchy was 
not felt to be a disappointment, except to extravagant hopes. 

lvi* Halcyon days, after Earthquake and Tempest. 

The King's faults of wanton prodigality were judged leniently by 
sensible men ; allowance being made for his past impoverishment 
in exile. They knew that he was no seducer of virgin innocence : 
at worst, he had been a willing victim of rapacious women, Court- 
mistresses, avowedly of ' easy virtue.' Twenty years later, some 
Parliamentary demagogues, themselves by no means immaculate, 
railed at him for having " taken bribes from France." It was an 
idle taunt, and came ill from men who were privately suborned 
and pensioned, to work confusion. Having, when in exile, accepted 
support from Louis XIV, Charles would count such dependence 
a tribute, without disgrace. He was no hypocrite. "Even his 
failings leaned to virtue's side." In his imperturbability, in his 
good-humoured command of temper, his tolerance of other people's 
errors, in his worldly wisdom, his capacity for business, his 
merriment among his spaniels, his waterfowl, and his fickle boon 
companions (chosen with undeniable taste for their wit or beautv), 
and in his accessibility to all petitioners, he took life easily. The 
common people saw their sovereign mingle with them, simply clad, 
and tree of pride or ostentation. Their undiminished gladness was 
shewn, in 1661, at his Coronation. 

First Pageant-arch shewed Rebellion' 1 s Confusion ; Second, Monarchy Restored. 
In the Third Pageant, Temple of Concord, is a ' Song of Welcome ' : — 

" /"lOmes not here the King of Peace, 
\J Whom the Stars so long foretold, 
From all woes shall us release, 
Converting Iron times to Gold ? 
Behold ! hehold ! 
Our Prince, coniirm'd by heavenly signs, 

Brings healing balm ; 
Brings healing balm and anodynes, 

To close o'jr wounds and pain assuage. 
He comes with conqu'ring bays and palm, 
Where swelling billows us'd to rage, 
Gliding on a silver calm ; 
Proud interests now no more enjraffe." 

J o"o v 

Chorus. — " Let these arched roofs re-sound, r:\Iat. Locke's 

Joyning instruments and voice ; L music. 

Fright pale spirits underground, 
But let heaven and earth rtjoyce. 
We our Happiness have found : 
He thus marching to be Crown' 1 d, 

Attended with this glorious train, 
From civil broils shall free these Isles, 

Whilst he and his posterity shall reign.'" 

In Fourth Pageant, Plenty mentions the blazing star seen at his birth : 

" Great Sir, the Star which at your happy birth [29 May, 1630. 

Joy'd with his beames at noon the wond'ring earth, 
Did with auspicious lustre then presage 
The glitt'ring Plenty of this Goldun Age." 


[British Museum ' Trunk Ballad,' No. 4, press-mark 835, m. 10. Unique.] 

[Cbe ipagcants in London at t&e Coronation 

Of ifting Charles t&e ^CCOnOj 

[To the Tune afterwards known as Gaudeamus Ic/ilitr.] 

[Chief woodcut lost, ivitk title and tune-name : this is third cutl\ 

COrae, you Poets, drink a round, [make] a true libation, 
That our Gracious King [hath fou]nd such a glorious Celebration: 
Which great Potentates shall read, for wee'l make his Glory spread 
throughout all Generations. 

Call the wise Phylosophers to render here a reason, [season. 

For they Predicted from the Stars this great day, the time and 
Lilly would not do so much, for he knew his Fact was such 

he should be hanged for treason. [Cf. p. ivi*. 

Therefore Traytors we'l discard, and make them to remember 
How their Plots can be compar'd to the fifth day of November; [igos. 
For they did invent a way, Church and State for to destroy, 
our King, and Faith's Defender. 

0[f London's grand Festivity, when you hear the story] r Conjectural. 

[How we receiv'd his Majesty,] it shall tend unto his glory. L Cut. 2 mutilated. 

For the King rejoyc'd to hear every Worthy Noble Peer, 

saying, " Good my Liege, w' are for ye." [p. lxii*. 

Solomon was crowned King, so was great Jehoram, 
But Solomon did Wisdom bring, which made Princes to adore him. 
But to speak the truth of it, for a wise and prudent Wit 
King Charles will go before him. 

lviii* The London Pageants at the Coronation. 

Charles, our mighty Potentate, a Learned Bishop told him, [him : 
When he came to his Throne of State, in God's Book he had inrol'd 
[Holding Sceptre, Ring, and] Globe : [wearing Royal purple Robe :] 
[All glad were\ to behold him. 

2The SccontJ $att, to the same Tune. 

THen many brave Noblemen, all most gallant and brave, 
March'd out of the Town then, both valiant, wise, and grave : 
Counting it] a most delightful thing, for to [hon]our Charles our 
And to the Crown him in Peace to bring. [Royal King, 

[And] yet [was] he [the King, with tears we wish'd to have :] 
Dyed [our fathers in past years, gladly to support him :] 
. . Lords and Earls in order all 

most Royally did court him. [Sorely mutilated here. 

To prayers went our Gracious King, with all this train about him, 
Where the Clergy there did sing, "King, we can't live without him! 
For he's vertuous, and we shall have Justice when to him we call : 
you need not for [to d~]oubt him." 

They were such gallant Blades, and so richly drest, \Cf. p. xxxiv*. 

As cannot be exprest, they were most bonny Lads, 

All malice they did detest, they were such brave Comrades. 

[Confused here. 

Each Regiment from other known by their sev'ral no[tes,] 

A[s plainly did appear, and was all drest in Buff Coats, 

And in silken scarves all of green,] \ 

W[ith hats and feathers] to [he seen, most rich as well, I ween,] j Lost except 

*W[ere those brave men] y Initials. 

An[d this doth these Lands rejoyce, and all that] . [live,] . I Compare 
W[hich restored unto us our] King . . [And happy days shall see.] J p. xxxiv*. 

(Elje Bcsettptfcm of the general |3an;cants ant) [Shows to greet the King] 
pTccccumn; from tlje 9Eofcoer unto his P[alace at Whitehall.] 

At Leaden-Hall, a sumptuous Pageant built in [an Arch] [C/.p.M*. 

highest houses, ivhich represented Ruine; and in Corn[hill, near the Ex] 

change was another Pageant of more state, which represented Monarchy] 

middle of Cheap-side a third Pageant for m\ed an Arch, at Wood Street : as a] 

Frontispiece the figure of Diana, in which [Concord, Love, and Truth were] 

singing by divers voices, and playing on all \_musick instruments ofnati-~\ 

ons in Christendom : the fourth Pageant [an Arch and Garden] [p. ivi». 

represented Plenty, with all lively expression [suitable un] 

. o its title. With a new Maypole in [wreathed] . 

d, and above a hundred foot in height .... 

. his Majestic 's Amies on the vane [? J. W. 

Printed for F. C[oles, T. Fere, M. Wright, W. Gilbertson.~] 
[1st cut lost; 2nd, same as 3rd of No. 1 ; 3rd, on p. lvii*. Date, April, 1GGL] 

I" Right half 
[torn away. 



[Trowbesh Transcripts: b.-l., Euiiig, cxlvii.] 

31ogfuli JBcte to t&e Nation; 

m\z Crowning of 3£ing CHAKL[E]S the II on the 23 of ^rtf, 
being on St. George's bag ; of f)is going from the 2bww of London 
to Whitehall on Monday, being the 22 tag; irjitfj fjt'a passing 
bg SHatcr from Whitehall to Westminster-Hall, anti from thence 
to the ^%, inhere he urns Croumeo; tfrom thence quite back 
again with, his Noble train: initij the rare fireworks upon 
London Thames. 

To the Tune of, Paclcingtori 's Pound [pp. xxvii*, xliv*]. 

|F all the rich pleasures that ever was seen, 
The like unto this, I think, never has been. 
All people are glad and rejoyce m our Nation, 
To think they should live for to see tli' Corouation. 
Let 's give God the praise, to see the brave days, 
And let us repent us of our evill wayes, 
And than God will bless us in every relation, 
And happy will be this our King's Coronation. 

On[e Monday in] April, being the twenty-two day, 
The King from the Tower did then take his way, 
And as for his pleasure he marched along 
Thousands of people did after him throng. 

His Majesty then, with his Noble-men, 

The people still cry'd out, and never would len, [i.e. stop. 
With " God bless your Majesty, in [every~\ relation, ['««.' 
And send you long Reign, and a happy Coronation ! " 

The glass in the windows they then did take down, 
And they on their Chambers made many a pound, 
For the sight of the Gentlemen that there did stand, 
They had what they pleased on them to demand. 

And all this was why, " the King 's coming by ! " 

They on the tops of the houses did lye. 
The like ne'er was heard of, not in any nation, 
As there was prepared for our King's Coronation. 

Four Pageants prepared for the King to pass in, [Cf. p. ivi*. 

Like Castles and Towers, the like was not seen ; 

The one imitating Pleasure and Peace, 

The which from our borders should never decrease. 

About it a Vine, showing plenty ot twine ; 

The conduits did run down with brave claret wine. 
The like never heard of, not in any Nation, 
As there toas prepared for our King's Coronation. 

lx* Joyful News to the Nation, 1661. 

<H\)z Second Part, to the same Tune. 

THe twenty-third, being on St. George 1 ?, day, 
The King then by water did he take his way, 
Where he did go unto Westminster -hall ; 
There the Nobility, Gentry, and all 

Did meet and did stand, with caps in their hand, 
Ready to be at our good King's command. 
The like ne're was heard of, not in any Nation, 
As there was prepared for our King's Coronation. 

From thence to the Ab\_be^\y he went with 's train, 
Where the two Bishops did him entertain ; 
And under his feet there was cloths on the ground, 
1'or to walk on, as he went to be crown'd. 

The people did still, their voices most shrill, 
Cry, " God bless your Majesty ever more still ! " 
The like ne're was heard of, not in any Nation, etc. 

The King then was crowned, and quite went back again 
To Westminster-hall, with his brave noble train, 
With Knights and with Lords, and Barons and Earls, 
And all for to beautifie Noble King Charl[e~\s. 
To see people throng,' as they passed along, 
It would be too tedious to put in my song. 
The like never heard of, not in any Nation, etc. 

The guns in the ships, and the cannons on shore, 
The bells and the trumpets most loudly did rore ; 
The bonefires did burn in every street, 
And all people made up their joy compleat. 

They feared no dismay, but thus they did say, 
" Happy are we for the Coronation day ! " 
The like never heard of, not in any Nation, etc. 

A Castle or Tower, that seemed very good, 
Made by an Artist, which on a barge stood : 
It stood on the river of Thames there all night, 
With fire-works about it, most full of delight. 
These fire-works there, which I doe declare 
Was to the beholders most wondrous rare. 
The like never heard of, not in any Nation, etc. 

And by it a bowling-green there did stand, 

As seemed as handsome as any on land, 

'T was framed by one man, who thought it no charges : 

A most rare green, and it stood on two barges. 
His Majesty then, with his Noble-men, 
Might when he pleased go to that green. 

The like never heard of, not in any Nation, etc. 

Joyful News to the Nation, 1661. Ixi* 

The Knights and the Nobles were brave in attire, 

Which made the beholders much to admire : 

The Duke went before him, and the way led ; 

The King followed after, with the Crown on his head. 
The people did shout, that was round about, 
Onely the Phanaticks that stood very mute : 

It grieved them to see such a turn in the Nation, 

And troubled their conscience to see the Coronation. 

Then strait came a Champion unto the hall-dore, 
And out came two Earls, and did put him before. 
The King call'd him to him and drank in a Cup, 
And bad[e] that the Champion should then put it up : 

The Cup it was gold, most rare to behold ! 

Myself I did see it, and by others was told. 
The like never heard of, not in any Nation, 
As there was prepared for our King's Coronation. 

Let all men on earth now but think on this thing, 
To see how our God have preserved our King ! 
And let all rejoyce, and not any be sorry, 
And give God the praise, where belongs all the glory, 

And honour your King, in everything, 

For he unto us glad tidings doth bring. 
The like never heard of, not in any Nation, 
As there teas prepared for our King's Coronation. 

Now God bless the King, and send him a long reign, 
That Truth and Peace may with us still remain. 
Let all hearts joyn one in love and unity, 
And let us pray all for the King's Progeny. 

With Lords and with Earls, that loveth King Charles, 
He is worth more to us than thousands of Pearls. 
And let any one pray, in any Relation, 
And then God icill send us plenty in our Nation. 

dFfnfg. Peter Fancy. 

London, Printed for Richard Burton, at the Ilorse-shoe in SmitJificld. 
[Black-letter. One woodcut. Date, last week of April, 1661.] 

These unique black-letter ballads on the Coronation, like John Ogilby's 
' Relation,'' 1661, describe the Procession and the 'Four Pageants.' A ' Royal 
Oak-Day' ballad of the previous year, written by J. W., had anticipated four of 
the stanzas used in the mutilated Trunk Ballad No. 4, on the ' Coronation,' 1661, 
and thus we recover the lost text. Compare p. xxxiv*. John Wade's second 
' Royal Oak ' ballad, with the ' Escape from Worcester,' follow, on pp. lxv*, lxvii*. 

In vindication of Kiug Charles II, we must remember the hereditary burdens 
of his race and temperament. He was surrounded by flatterers and sycophants, 
both in his days of poverty and after the Restoration. It was an ill-training for 
reigning over an unruly people — his vagabond life abroad, a pensioner of foreign 
despots, who treated him with scant courtesy, they being overawed by Cromwell. 

lxii* " The easiest Prince, and best-bred man alive. 1 ' 

With fortitude Charles had borne misfortune, with cheerfulness 
awaiting better days. Success at last arrived, sudden and complete. 
Not won by plots, invasion, or battles. Neither was it bought with 
bribes, for which he was too poor, nor with cajoleries, that enemies 
would have resisted : they themselves being false and treacherous, 
suspicious of one another. To many it appeared miraculous, the 
swiftness with which every obstacle melted away, in one little month 
of the Annus Mirabilis. From hopeless winter of anarchy, the nation 
awakened to summer sunshine : "Long live King Charles !" 

"Ina word, the joy was so inexpressible and so universal, that his Majesty 
said, smiling to some about him, that he doubted it had been his own fault that 
he had been absent so long, for he saw nobody that did not protest he had ever 
wished for his return." — Clarendon: Hist. Rebellion, Bk. xvi, par. 246. 

His merit and rightful claim were accepted because all the rival factions had 
disgraced themselves. He was regarded with personal affection, heedless of 
his occasional weakness and misconduct, hurtful to himself more than to others. 
He was easily made content, a man of the world, willing to ' live and let live,' 
of a better balance than his father, inclined to be honest, careless of consequences, 
with a habit of sauntering through frivolities, yet not infatuated ; yielding to 
paltry temptations of known libertines and saucy wantons, in contemptuous 
good-humour. He knew them to be mercenary and shameless, but admitted them 
to intimacy. Charles made no pretence of being a saint or a precisian. Keligion 
did not greatly trouble him. He was tolerant, neither bigoted nor profane. He 
stood faithful to his brother, York, when such constancy imperilled his own 
safety. He refused to countenance Shaftesbury's vile scheme of a divorce from 
Queen Catherine and marriage with one who might yield a lawful heir to the 
Ihrone, to the exclusion of James. Perhaps his worst fault was the sacrifice of 
Algernon Sydney. He was never vindictive or miserly, but allowed himself to 
be wronged, mocked, and plundered by those on whom he lavished wealth or 
affection. Taller in stature than most men, ' the son of Kish,' he also stood 
higher in his manhood than his enemies could have guessed. 


There were many kings worse, who better are reckon' d, 

Than ' the joy of all hearts,' whom we hail'd ' Charles the Second.' 

This Group op Restoration Ballads is a ' Prefatory Note ' to 
the ' Second Division ' of the Final Volume of Roxburghe Ballads ; 
an instalment of 'The Civil- War Ballads,' that begin with 'the 
Bishops' War' of 1637. To relinquish them at present is necessary. 

Independently the Editor will endeavour to publish this his 
prepared great work, but for the present "It is time for us to go ! " 

Throughout the Second Series, commencing with the Anti-Papal Group in 
Vol. IV, Part 1st, 1881, the present Editor has brought into coherent groups 
the various historical and social ballads that had been confusingly scattered 
throughout the Collection ; known successively as the Harleian, the West, the 
Thomas Pearson, the Roxburghe, and lastly, as Benjamin Ham Briglit's ; before 
the accumulation passed into the British Museum Library, where it now abides 
in ever-increasing peril from idle curiosity of the ' rank outsiders.' They are 
a constant source of danger : they finger the best of everything (editions de luxe 
included), and damage it recklessly, because they call it ' public property.' 

Paramount importance of the Great Rebellion. lxiii* 

To the robust and truly appreciative Student the Roxburghe 
Ballads now offer themselves boldly. From the ' Sempill Ballates ' 
on "Mary Queen of Scots," 1565 to 1583 (pp. 337-99), unto 
the 'No Popery' Riots of 1780 (p. 726 of the present volume), 
the Panorama of the Stuart reigns has been unrolled. From the 
destruction of the Spanish Armada in 1588 (vol. vii), to the fall of 
James II, a century later, 1688 ; thence onward with William III, 
Anne, and three Georges, another century; until 1788, the year 
of Prince Charles Edward's death at Pome, the political struggles 
of that ill-fated family are shown. Not in a mighty cataract, but 
in dwindling rivulets escaping from a morass, such as Culloden-moor, 
their end was reached. Yet ours is no lamentation : although we 
are avowedly, on principle, laadatores temporis acti. 

" Earth is alive, and gentle or ungentle 
Motions within her signify but growth ; 
The ground swells greenest o'er the labouring moles : 
Howe'er th' uneasy world is vexed and wroth, 
Young children, lifted high on parent souls, 
Look round them, with a smile upon the mouth, 
And take for music every bell that tolls." 

In the whole range of English History the one Civil War 
that attracts attention, and that best rewards continuous study, is 
' the Great Rebellion.'' The Stuart race never had been taught by 
their experience how to correct recurring errors, or how to regain 
any wavering allegiance by timely acts of justice. They trusted 
to the granting of favours as royal bounty. They knew no higher 
relations that unite man with men, or monarch with people. By 
their misfortunes, from 1567 to 1746, they secured remembrance. 

Amid the alternate oppression and resistance, concessions were 
gradually extorted, not surrendered willingly. Every evil weed 
left its roots implanted in the soil, and " the End is not yet." 
Popular leaders, when emerging from the dregs of the people, 
become selfish timeservers ; they soon contrive to sell their dupes 
for any sordid advantage. The true aristocracy, possessing chivalry 
and courage, guided by high principles, if faithful to their motto 
of Noblesse m'oblige, are the best friends of Liberty ; but are few 
in number, fewer as time wears on. The temptation to flatter the 
democracy increases the danger. We who linger at the close of 
this busy century need not claim to discern prophetically what 
trials le Vingtibne Steele is ready to bring forth. Perhaps we are 
not sorry to have finished our task, before the act-drop rises on 
a change of scene. That it must be very different from the last, is 
all that we can foresee and foretell. That it will be less wise 
and honest than the Past generation, would be a sad forecast. 
We do not fear defeat, although evil is now threatened. Many 
a crisis has been averted, and may be again, so long as unitedly 
" England to herself be true," and " Britannia rules the waves." 

lxiv* " After a well-graced [century'] leaves the stage." 

In 1859 Charles A.Ward wrote, 'England subsists by miracle J : 
she reigns by Power greater than her own. A purer knowledge of 
true religion, cleansed from superstition, mummery, and priestcraft, 
is evidently now about to dawn. A National acceptance of the 
noble federation which alone can secure prosperity and happiness 
to the Empire, is one rudimentary lesson, already learned. Our 
great and good Queen has seen the growth of much that deserves 
thankfulness. None but the grossly ignorant can deny that the 
complex responsibilities of her time utterly dwarf the difficulties 
of old Stuart days : those were parochial squabbles in comparison. 
Such teaching as these ballads yield ought to be profitable to the 
future race. " Revolutions were not made with rose-water," and 
we have not sought to disguise the wickedness or folly of our 
ancestors, during our twenty years of labour on Roxburghe Ballads 
"■Illustrating the Last Tears of the Stuarts." 

M Here we might close the ' Prefatory Note to Volume Nine,' with our wood- 
cut of a country revel at the Eestoration ; were it not expedient to add two extra 
ballads on the ' Escape of King Charles II after the defeat at Worcester, 1651 ' ; 
also a goodly number of long-lost Cavalier ditties, in a ' Supplementary Note,' 

pp. xci*-cxxxvi*. 


[Trowbesh Coll., John C. Francis's Type-written Transc. ; Euing, No. cccviii.] 

%$t Eopnll £Dafc ; or, %§z SMonDrifull CratorHss, 

miraculous ©scapes, strange Slccttfcnts of Jjt's sacrctj fHajcsto 

ISt'ncj Chaeles tije Sccona. 

IIow from Worcester fight, by a good hap, our royall King made an escape, 
How he disrob'd himself of things that precious were, , 
And with a knife cut off his curled hair : 

How a hollow Oak as his palace was th[e]n ; 
And how King Charles became a Serving-man. 

To the Tune of, ' In my Freedom is all my Joy.'' [See vol. vii, p. 144.] 

COnie, Friends, and unto me draw near, a sorrowfull ditty you shall hear : 
You that deny your lawfull Prince, let conscience now your faults convince, 
And now in love, and not in fear, now let his presence be your joy, 

Whom God in mercy would not destroy. [Passim. 

The Relation that here I bring, concerning Charles our royall King ; 
Through what dangers he hath past, and is proclaimed King at last : 
The Prince's sorrows we will sing, which the Fates sorely did annoy; Whom, etc. 

After Worcester most fatall fight, when that King Charles was put to flight, 
Then many men their lives laid down, to bring their sovereign to the Crown : 
The which was a most glorious sight : great was his Majestie's convoy ; etc. 

In Worcester battle, fierce and hot, his horse twice under him was shot, 
And, by a wise and prudent thrift, to save his life was forced to shift. 
Without difficulty it was not : Providence did him safely convoy ; etc. 

And, being full of discontents, stript off his princely ornaments ; 
Tims, full of troubles and of cares, a knife cut off his curled hairs, 
Whereby the hunters he prevents ; God in his mercy him convoy, 
So that they could not him destroy. 

A chain of gold he gave away, worth three hundred [poundjs, they say ; 
In this disguise by honest thrift, command all for themselves to shift : 
With one friend both night and day, poor Prince alone to God's convoy, 
His foes they could not him destroy. 

Second Division, Puef. Note. 


lxvi* 'The Royal Oak.' By John Wade. 

These two wand'red into a wood, where a hollow Oak there stood, 

And for his precious life's dear sake did of that Oak his- palace make ; 

His friend towards night provided food, so their precious lives they did enjoy ; etc. 

Lord Willmot most valiant and stout, he was pursued hy the rout : \_Rocheiier. 
Was hid in a fiery kiln of mault, and so escaped the souldiers' assault, 
Which searched all the house ahout, not dreaming the kiln was his convoy ; 
Which God in mercy would not destroy. 

2Tfje Scconli $3att. To the same Tuive. 

HE relates King Charles his miseries, which forced tears from tender eyes. 
Mistress Lane entreats him earnestly for to find out his Majesty. 
And him to save she would devise ; unto her house they him convoy, 
Whom God in mercy icould not destroy. 

King Charles a livery cloak wore then, and became a Serving-man, 

And westward rode towards the sea, intended [for to] transported be ; 

And Mistress Lane now please he can, which was the King's safest convoy ; etc. 

In accident of great renown as they were for to ride throw a town, 

A troop of horse stood crosse the street, then jealouslie the King did greet, 

And Fortune seem'd on him to frown ; he thought the Fates would him annoy ; etc. 

The Captain commanded his men to the right and left to open then, 

For harmless travellers he did them take, and an interest for them did make ; 

And so they passed on again, unto King Charles's no small joy; etc. 

His Mistress to her coming in, left William her man in the kitchen ; 
The Cook-maid askt where he was born, and what trade that he did learn. 
To frame his excuse he did begin; thus his sorrow was turned to joy; etc. 

To answer mild he thus begun, " At Brumigam, a nailer's son." 
Then said the maid, " The jack stands still, pray wind it up, if that you will." 
Which he did, su^pition to shun, and somewhat did the same annoy, 
Yet did not the same quite destroy. 

As those that were [standing] by do say, he went about it the wrong way, 
Which ang'red the maid the same to see, she called him a clownish boobie, 
" In all my life that ever I saw " ; her railing caus'd him laugh for joy ; 
Whom God in mercy ivould not destroy. 

After many weeks in jeopardy, he was wafted into JVbrmandy ; 
The God of heaven for his person car'd, the ship-master had a great reward. 
Thus the good Prince from hence did flye, to suffer hardship he was not coy, 
Which now ivill be this nation's joy. 

J. W. [probably John Wade]. 


London, Printed for Charles Tyus, on London-Bridge, [b.-l., 1660.] 

Note. — In vol. vii, pp. 633-41, are two other ballads on the Escape from 
Worcester, one being unique by Henry Jones, of Oxford. It is ' The Royal 
Patient Traveller; or, The Wonderful Escapes,' etc. ; i.e., " God hath preserved 
our Royal King." Tune of, Chevy Chase. Preceding it is ' The Last News from 
France*', viz., "All you that do desire to know what is become of the King of 
Scots ?" sung to Martin Parker's tune of, When the King enjoys his own again 
(also given on pp. 633, 634 of vol. vii). Another ballad on the same subject 
now follows, on p. lxvii* — "Come, you learned Poets, let's call our Fathers and 
our Mothers." [Woodcut : two men standing ; a man and a woman behind.] 


[Anthony a Wood's Collection, 401, fol. 173. Apparently unique.] 


nmUctfull ano spiracutoug Escape of our gracious* fttug 

from that bt'smal, black, anb rjlaomfe Defeat at Wor'ster: 
2£acfether tai'tlj a pattern ta all true aitb faitfjfull Subjects, bu 
tJjc fibe Eooal anb fai'tljfull ISrcthcrs, forth, their care anb 
tulujence, obserbance anb obebtence, 8 baues tit the tune of Ijt's 
fHajesti'c's abscurftg. 

The Tune is, Come, Id 's drink, the time invites. [See p. xciv*, post.] 

C^Ome, you learned Poets, let 's call our Fathers and our Mothers, 
J For wee '1 write Historicall, of five Loyall faithfull Brothers, 
Richard, Humphry, John and George, William, once who had the charge 
of brave King Charles and others : 

After Wor'ster's dismall day: here's a true Relation 
How our King escapt away, and who was the preservation 
Of his Sacred Majesty, in his great necessity, 
beyond all admiration. 

He great Kingly acts did doe, with a brave intention, 
Vent' red Crown and Kingdoms too, in one day for our Redemption : 
But in this I 'le not insist, the books doth make it manifest, 
beyond uiy wit's invention. 

For when he perceiv'd in fight the un-even ground did rout him, 
Five and twenty miles that night he rid with all his Lords about him ; 
But it would have griev'd your heart, for to have seen them all depart, 
what sorrow was throughout them. 

Though with grief and double feare, they yet did hold together, 
On the confines of Staffordshire, but to goe they knew not whithor. 
The conclusion in the end, Earle Derby said he had a friend 
hard by, and they 'd goe thither. 

Then to the place they all did goe, where the Earle intended, 
But the people did not know from what blood they were descended ; 
But they set them Bread and Cheese, and the King did highly please, 
his sorrow much amended. 

The Earle of Derby, in the end, all his mind disbursed, 
Askt if there was any friend that wherein he might be trusted ? 
William Pendrall then came in, who said " he would be true to him, 
else let him be accursed." 

And further said, " if 't was the King, nothing should be lacking 
In any part that lav in him, for the escape which he was making." 
And like unto the Turtle-Dove, this honest William still did prove, 
in all his undertakings. 

lxviii* Escape of King Charles after Wor'stcr, 1651. 

2T!)C JScrCmO ^Jntt, TO THE SAME Tune. [Woodcut on p. xliii*.] 

And George, the youngest brother, he made hast' and fet' his clothing 
For his Sacred Majestie, 'cause the country should not know him ; 
Richard he did round his haire : for true Loyallists they were, 
all five were faithfull to him. 

Humphry fetcht him hat and Band, of the Country Fashion, 
Sheipskin gloves for his white hand; likewise John had great compassion, 
Fetcht him shirt and shooes the while : then the King began to smile, 
at his accommodation. 

Richard fetcht his Coat by stealth, and his best arrnyment, 
Then the King depriv'dhim selfe of his rich and Princely Garment. 
Humbly he did put them on, and a Wood Bill in his hand : 
this was our King's Preferment. 

William then went with the King, Richard he did leave them, 
'Causelntelligencehee'd bring, least the Wood it should deceive them. 
George and Humphry scouting were, seeing if the coasts were cleare, 
none might come aneere them. 

The tydings Humphry had in Town put his vaines a quaking, [ T eins. 
Hearing 't was a thousand pound bid for any one to take him. 
The King was something then dismaid, to think what baits the 
and horrid Plots were making. [Jews had laid, 

All the day they wand'red then, in great consultation, 

Like forlorne distressed men, that ne'r were in such condition. 

William to the King bespoke, and he knew a hollow Oake, 

might be his preservation. [ P . i X v». 

Then through bushes they did rouze, the trees were so berounded 
With brakes & bryers, leaves & hows, that in number they abounded. 
It was the Castle of our King, and his Koyall Court within 
for ever is renowned. 

William he did bring him food, like he were a ranger, 
While he staid within the Wood, tho' good King he was a stranger : 
Hollow Oaks his dwelling place, where he staid for five days' space, 
in sorrow and in danger. 

At last he came to the Lady Zane, being all disguised, 
And to her exprest his name ; she, good Lady, then advised, 
And appointed out a day, when they both might come away, 

and never be surprised. [Jane Lane. 

Then Humphry, Richard, John, and George safely did surrender 
The Kingwhich they hadintheircharge,ontheeighth dayof September. 
The King he leave then took o' them, and said if e'er he came agen, 
their loves he would remember. 

Printed for F. Coles, T. Vere, and W. Gilbertson. [b.-l., '1600.'] 

Wooing-Songs of Kent,'' circa 1553 and 1611. Ixix" 


"Q 1 

*,* This, now first reprinted, is the best and most important of the many 
' Restoration Ballads ' of the ' Royal Oak ' which we have had the privilege 
of bringing back to the notice of loyal Cavaliers. The later incidents of that 
' Royal Escape after Worcester ' are continued on p. lxvi* ; also in vol. vii. 
This interesting romance of real life was paralleled by the long-continued and 
no less dangerous adventures associated with the Escape of Prince Charles 
Edward Stuart, the so-called 'Young Pretender,' in 1746, after the defeat at 
Drummossie Moor, or Culloden. He also, like King Charles II, found stainless 
loyalty and courage among the faithful men and women into whose hands he 
fearlessly committed himself. In each case, it was the memorably heroic part 
of their own adventurous lives. Their subsequent errors should be forgiven. 
Of the Stuarts we say, Be mortuis nil nisi bouum. 

jFatr. Susan of SsIjCort : a WLQam£*&(m$. 

AMONG the ditties gathered within the two vols. 8vo. of The Kentish 
Garland (edited by Miss Julia H. L. de Vaynes, of Updown, Thanet ; 
printed by Messrs. Austin, of Hertford; ranging with the Bagford Ballads and 
lluxbarghe Ballads) is a ' Wooing Song of a Yeoman of Kent's Son.' It begins, 
"1 haue house and land in Kent, and if you'll loue me loue me now. Two 
pence halfe-peny is my rent — I cannot come euery day to woo." Chorus: " Two- 
pence halfe-peny is his rent, And he cannot come euery day to woo." Seven 
stanzas in Melismata — Musical Phansies, 1611, No. xxii. 

An earlier ' Clown's Courtship ' was sung to King Henry VIII at Windsor: 

^Uoth John to Joan : ' Wilt thou have me ? 

1 prythee now wilt ? and I 'se marry with thee. 
My cow, my calf, my house, my rents, 
And all my land and tenements ; 

Oh say, my Joan, will not that do ? 

I cannot come every day to woo I ' " Etc. \Cf. vol. iii, 590. 

Breoksby, Beacon, Blare, and Back held a monopoly of ballads to the tune — 
' Ring of Gold,'' ' Unconstant Maiden,'' and ' Farewell, my dearest Bear? We 
reprinted (in vol. vi, pp. 638, 639) their " Young William met his Love," 
and gave a list of eight other ballads sung to the same tune ; the number 
is now swelled to thirteen ; and the original ' Ring of Gold ' is recovered. 
' The Ring of Gold'' was not the Prelude to 'The Bleeding Lover's Lamentation,' 
wherein Strephon is mourned by Clorinda (vol. iii, p. 456) : it begins, "Ranging 
the silent shades, seeking for pleasure." A separate story is the ' Lady's Tragedy ; 
or, The Languishing Lamentation of a London Merchant's Daughter, who dyed 
for Love of a Linnen-Draper.' Same tune. Begins, " Why is my Love unkind ? 
Why does he leave niep" The sequel to it begins, "All joy I bid adieu!" 
entitled ' An Answer to the Lady's Tragedy ; or, The Young Liunen- Draper's 
Languishing Lamentation for the Merchant's Daughter, who lately dyed for Love.' 
Same tune and publishers. Both are mentioned, as No. 12 and No. 2, in our 
Introduction to vol. viii, First Bivision (p. lxxix***). Ten are reprinted. 

According to the transcript, now at 'Proud Ashford' in Kent, 
another " Sweet Susan " was living there circa 1616, equally famed 
in song. She was the heroine of ' An excellent new ballad of a 
Young-man in Prayse of hisBeloued': seep. 851, post. It begins: 

" In this towue Fayre Susan dwelleth : I loue her and she loues me." 

Cited by F. D. in 1620, as " Within our town fair Susan dwells." 

Of ' Fair Susan of Ashford' an imitation is in 'Beautiful Fanny's Garland' : 
" A worthy Widow's Son courted fair Susan, he thought in his own mind," etc. 

[Pepys Collection, III, 284. Unique.] 

CJje iimttigij Heomait: 

Containing, 2Kje honest Plain Mooinrj Ittimzn a fgount^iHan 
of Maidstone ano jFait Susan of Ashford. 
Tune is, The Ring of Gold. [See p. lxxvi* ; and Introduction, p. Ixxix***.] 

A "Wealthy Yeoman's Son fancy'd fair Susan ; 
Thoughts in his mind did run, which he did muse on : 
Cupid (that crafty Lad) taught him his duty, 
Tho' she no portion had, but youthful Beauty. 

Often he, sighing, said : " My dearest Jewel, 
You have a Conquest made : be not cruel ! 
But grant what 1 will crave, to ease my anguish, 
A bleeding Lover save. Why should 1 languish ? " 

The Damsel then reply'd : " Sir, talk your pleasure. [sic, take ? 

You may enjoy a Bride endow 'd with Treasure ; 
Gold, likewise Land good store, for your promotion ; 
But I, alas ! am poor, and have no Portion." 

" Thou art not poor, my Dear, Nature's perfection ! 
Ten thousand charms appear in thy complexion; 
The which I prize above the Gold of Onsus : [sie. 

I wed purely for love, that Jove may bless us. 

" I love thee as my life, Dearest, believe me, 
And thou shalt be my wife, if thou 'It receive me 
Into thy favour, Love : do not deny me ; 
I will most constant prove ; sweet Creature, try me." 

Said she : " Shall I believe your protestations ? 
Then hand and heart receive, but your Relations 
1 fear will frown on me, when 1 come near them." 
" My dearest Love " (said he), " thou need'st not fear them. 

" If that my Parents e'er scornfully slight thee 
I '11 take the greater care, Love, to delight thee. 
E'er thou shalt surfer wrong, or grief attend thee, 
I '11 rush into the throng, still to defend thee. 

" Come, let us plight our troth, why should we tarry ? 
Fear not my Parents' wrath, but let us marry : [Cf. lxxii*. 

They '11 soon be reconcil'd, tho' they may chide me, 
Having no other child alive beside me. 

" Love, likewise understand, not far from Dover 
I have as good free land as Crow flew over. 
A Farm and Flock of sheep, Cows six and twenty, 
There thou shalt pleasures reap, in peace and plenty. 

" Servants shall tend on thee, whom I admire." 
" My dearest Love " (said she), " what you desire, 

I yield it as your right : at our next meeting, 

In wedlock we '11 unite without more jrreetinsr." 

Printed for P. BrooJcsbij, J. Deacon, J. Blare, and /. Back. 
[Man's speeches in Black-letter. Two cuts, and Border. Date, c. 1690.] 

f The Ring of Gold ' mystery solved lxxi* 

This ballad of ' The Kentish Yeoman of Maidstone and Fair 
Susan of Ash/ord' is worthy of being recovered from the unique 
original, and now included in the wealthy corporation of the 
Balhid Society's Roxburghe Ballads. She shines in contrast with 
sundry ' Kentish Maidens,' and other sorts, in the same volume. 
It affords to us a pretty glimpse of an ' Honest Plain Wooing.' 

" The spinsters aizd the knitters in the sun 
And the free maids that weave their thread with bones 
Do use to chant it : it is silly sooth, 
And dallies with the innocence of Love, 
Like the Old Age." 

The Ring of Gold involved a mystery, that never troubled good 
"William Chappell when he was reprinting no less than four other 
ballads bearing this tune-name, in his final volume of the Roxburghe 
Ballads, iii, pp. 421, 456, 463, 616. 

We reprint one of these, ' The Covetous-minded Parents,' because 
it had been hitherto imperfect, lacking its sequel. The Ring of 
Gold masqueraded at first under the title of ' Farewell, my dearest 
Bear ! ' alias ' The Unconstant Maiden. 1 The history of it deserves 
to be enrolled here. 

No. 3 of our Sing of Gold List on p. lxxix*** is entitled ' The Unconstant 
Maiden; or, The Forsaken Young- Man: Shewing how a Devonshire Damsel 
marry'd another, while her Lover was come to London, to his great grief.' To 
a pleasant New Tune (two lines of music given). Licensed according to Order. 
Same publishers, P. Brooksby, Deacon, Blare, and Back. Begins, "Farewell, 
my dearest Dear, now I must leave thee." (Given on p. lxxvi*.) 

Their rival publisher, one Thomas Moore, sent out in 1691 a short sequel, 
entitled, ' The Young Ladie's Answer to the Forsaken Lover : In Vindication 
of her self for marrying another. To an excellent New Tune.' [Same tune, 
Unconstant Maiden, i.e. Ring of Gold.] No license named. Printed and sold 
by T. Moore, 1691. Begins, "Before you went to Town." p. lxxvii*. 

To this followed 'An Answer to the Unconstant Maiden: containing, The 
Sorrowful Bride's bitter tears aud passion for her Disloyalty to her first Love, 
whom she left, and married another, after they were sure together [i.e. plighted 
in troth], while he came to London.' To the Tune of, The Unconstant Maiden. 
Licensed according to Order. Two lines of music. It begins, " I am a mournfull 
Bride." Same publishers, Brooksby and three partners. See p. lxxvii*. 

These three ballads follow consecutively in Pepys Coll., V, 163, 164, 165, and 
tell a distinct story from the ' Covetous-minded Parents,' as though in avowed 
contrast to the maiden's constancy. They are reprinted on p. lxxvi* et seq. 

Also distinct from all these, but to the same tune, licensed and sent out by 
the same publishers, Brooksby, Deacon, Blare, and Back, at same date, is a ballad 
entitled, ' The Couragious Coronet [sic] ; containing A Letter from a Valiant 
Trooper of Flanders to Susan his Loyal Love near Limus [ = Limehouse] in 
England.'' It begins, "Susan, my heart's delight." We should not commingle 
her with her namesake of Ashford, on p. lxx*, although sung to the same tune ; 
or with another namesake "of London" who is addressed in 'A Letter from 
a Young-Man on board of an English Privateer,' of the same date, circa 1690: 
beginning, " Susan, I this Letter send thee" (reprinted in vol. vii, p. 497). 
It has the tune of Tender hearts of London City (vol. vi, p. SO). 

lxxii* Two ways of telling the Kentish Lore-talc. 

All three ' Susan ' ballads are from Brooksby. Possibly our ' Kentish Yeoman,' 
having served at Maidstone in the local yeomanry, became a Cornet, volunteered 
for active service in Flanders, and, either later or sooner, found himself acting 
on board an English privateer, but continuing to write unto pretty Susau, being 
" Soldier and Sailor too " as in The Seven Seas. 

It was not a bad story, if combined. It brought the stern parents to reason, 
ending in a happy marriage, after they found that "he was always true to 
Poll." Perhaps the reason why she dwelt awhile at Limehouse was solely to 
escape persecution at home, from the knagging of her future mother-in-law. 
Fair Susan had foreseen the old wife's spite, and her lover could not deny it, 
but was forced to "rush into the throng, still to defend thee." Trutli and 
courage prevail at last. Question : ' Why change the tune, and drop the Ba/y 
of Gold ? ' Answer : ' People who pay for the music have a right to call the tune.' 

Nevertheless, in our own mind, we believe that ' Fair Susan of Ashford ' had 
no sequel written to her song ; perhaps nothing untoward delayed her marriage, 
that mother-in-law not being allowed to rule both houses adversely. It is 
discourteous to denounce as " Nature's great mistake and man's worst enemy, 
his Mother-in-Law." She was undoubtedly a product of the Fall ; and looks 
the part. She was never found inside the Garden of Eden. This by the way, 
according to Dervaux, who avoided matrimony to escape the Belle-mere. 

Nota Bene. — No less than five Pepysian ballads begin identically with the 
same half-line, " Farewell, my dearest Dear ! " Three of these are to the tune 
of Philander ( = " Ah, cruel bloody Fate!" vol. iv, p. 38): one continuing 
the line "for needs I must away"; this is 'The Constant Seaman and his 
faithful Love.' A second, licensed by R. Pocock, is ' The Faithful Mariner' ; 
it agrees with the third, ' The Mariner's Delight.,' and continues thus — " for 
thee [sie] and I must part." The fourth, entitled 'The Seamen and Soldiers' 
Last Farewell to their dearest Jewels,' takes the same second half-line as our 
' Unconstant Maiden,' and is in black-letter (so are all the other three in 
Pepys Coll., Vol. IV, pp. 189, 171, 165, 216) : beginning thus :— 

" Farewell, my dearest Dear ! now I must leave Thee, 
Thy sight I must forbear although it grieve me : 
From thy embraces, Love, I shall be parted, 
Yet I will constant prove, and be true-hearted." 

The argument is ' He must be gone, the Fates have so decreed, to serve his 
king and country at their need.' The burden is, ' But we will be married tvhen 
I come again? The assigned tune is, '/ am so deep in love, 1 cannot hide it ' 
(vol. vi, p. 253), or, Cupid's Courtcsye ( = " As on a day Sabina fell asleep" : 
see vol. iii, p. 645). The ' Answer ' (' Maiden's Lamentation ') begins, " Alas! 
my dearest joy ' why wilt thou leave me ? " 

We are glad, at this late date (since it was not done in 18S0), to complete 
the story of ' The Covetous-minded Parents ' who tried to force their daughter 
to be forsworn to her lover and marry the rich miser ' Old Gray.'' It may be 
merely a chance coincidence, that he is four times mentioned by that name, 
hut a century later the identical surname became proverbial for the aged wooer 
and enforced husband of a young maiden, who had been already betrothed to 
another. Some remembrance of this earliest English ballad may have been in 
the mind of Lady Anne Lindsay (afterwards Barnard), who in 1771 wrote her own 
pathetic ballad of ' Auld Ivobiu Gray,' similar in la moralite. (See p. lxxv*.) 

" De cette histoire, le moral' la voici : 
A jeiiue lemtne il faut jeune mari." 

■ — Le Sire dc Framboiay. 

[Roxb.Coll.,11,84 ; Pepys,V, 294 (music); Euing,46; Jersey, 1,34; Huth,I,50.] 

%%t Cofcctou^mmoco patents; or, 

2Efje ILangui'srjmrj oauitrj (gEiitkuiaman, foljase jFttenbs roaulo rjatie 
\)ix iliflarrg an do jjftfset for tfje sake of ijia ©alb, folji'd) slje 
uttertg rcfttseo ta 00, tesalbnuj ta foe true ta tl)e Jirst. 

Tune is, Farewell, my dearest Dear [p. lxxvi*]. Licensed according to Order. 

I Am a Damosel fair, of blooming Beauty, 
Therefore I do declare it is my duty 
My Parents to obey— father and mother ; 
They 'd have me marry Gray : I love another. 

Gray hath Five thousand pound in ready money, 
There riches doth abound ; but yet, my Honey, 
Whom I shall still adore, brings Love and Pleasure : 
The which i value more than gold and treasure. 

Good God ! what shall I do ? whom shall I marry ? 

Father and Mother too constantly weary 

Their child to entertain this wretched Miser, 

For which they are to blame : would they were wiser ! 

What are those baggs of Gold without a blessing ? 
My dearest Love, behold, he is possessing 
My heart and all that 's dear — how can I leave him ? 
Heaven may prove severe if I deceive him. 

Before my vow I '11 break, Death shall destroy me ; 
I will no other take, he must enjoy me : 
Though friends continually scorn and deride me, 
With him I '11 live and dye, what e're betide me. 

Though Gray hath riches store, my Dear 's above him ; 
Nay, had he ten times more, I could not love him. 
His Gold I count but dross, dregs of confusion ; 
Which often prove a cross in the conclusion. 

Gold, pearl, and silver bright, I ne'er desire ; 
Give me my heart's delight, whom I admire, 
That treasure I 'd enjoy, my sweetest jewel. 
What grief will me destroy ! Parents are cruel. 

Though tedious nights I spend in mournful weeping, 
My heart, iutire Friend, thou hast in keeping. 
Bear up a cheerful mind, let nothing grieve thee ; 
If I was not contin'd, I 'd never leave thee. 

When my free liberty once I recover 

I '11 quickly be with thee, my loyal Lover. 

Though now with bitter moan grief does annoy [the]e, [t. me. 

No man but th[ou] alone e'er shall enjoy me. 

Printed for P. Brooksby, J. Beacon, J. Blare, J. Back. [Four cuts, c. 16 ( J0.] 

[Note. — A reproduction of both portions of the ballad is preferable to making 
readers turn back to the imperfect reprint of the Roxburghe First Part, twenty 
years ago ; since it lucked the unique continuation preserved by Samuel Pepys.J 



[Pepys Collection, V, 323. Apparently unique.] 

3n ansfcicc to tfje eDoUrroi^^mtnticD patxmg ; ©r, 

3The gaunrjsjiHan's Bcsolutt'an to free fjfs Captureo 3Looe, at the 
ftfajarl) of ftts Dearest 3Ltfe. 

To the Tuno of, The Ring of Gold. Licensed according to Order. [Music added.'] 

"Y youthful charming Fair, and sweetest Jewel, 
I solemnly declare (tho' Friends are cruel) 
Tny wrongs I soon will right, could I come near thee, 
And study day and night how I might clear thee. 

Tho' they so close confine, my dear, and grieve thee, 
Yet in these Arms of mine I '11 soon receive thee. 
Strong Locks and Bars I '11 break, where soon I '11 enter ; 
For my sweet Creature's sake, my life I '11 venture. 

'T is not thy Father's frown e'er shall affright me ; 
Thy days with joy I'll crown, who ne'er did slight me. 
What tho' vast bags of Gold I a' n't possessing, 
True Love is still, behold ! a greater Blessing. 

Parents we often find greedy for Treasure, 
They love the Golden Mine here out of measure. 
It bears so great a sway in e'ery action, 
That Loyal Lovers they meet with distraction : 

Being compell'd to wed, meerly for Biches, 
The palsey Hoary-head : thus coyn bewitches 
Some Parents who has now Treasure possessing ; 
Children must break their vow, or lose their blessing. 

Gray has more wealth than I, yet still, not waver ! 
But yet her Parents cry, I shall not have her : 
This is as if, behold, my dearest Honey 
Was to be bought and sold by price of Money. 

Yet my sweet charming Saint never will leave me ; 
Her sighs and sad complaint dayly doth grieve me. 
She shall not languish long, I vow to see her, 
Soon to redress her wrong : I '11 dye to free her. 

This wretched Miser's Bags are his best graces, 
Mixt with diseased dregs of loath'd Embraces ; 
Yet tho' her Friends contrive thus to annoy her, 
While I remain alive He sha'n't enjoy her! 

" If Friends, with anger fraught, clearly forsake her, 
So that she ha't a Groat, yet will I make her 
My lawful Bride" (said he), " and ne'r refrain her: 
By true industery \_sic~] I can maintain her." [jFl'ttl'g.] 

Printed for Philip Brooksby, Jonah Deacon, John Blare, John Back. 

Lady Anne's Continuations of l Auld Robin Gray.' Ixxv* 

To return from p. lxxii* to the ballad of ' Auld Robin Gray,' for 
' The Covetous-minded Parents ' suggested curious doubts. 

Lady Anne Barnard (ne'e Lindsay) wrote that her own 'Auld Robin Gray ' was 
'born,' i.e. written, " soon after the close of 1771 " ; also that it was named 
after " the old herd at Balcarres." Had her memory partially failed her, when she 
wrote this to Sir Walter Scott in 1824 ? The Rev. William Leeves, of "Wrington, 
Somerset, composer of the later music (which displaced The Bridegroom grat when 
the sun gaed down : see pp. 196, 863), survived until 1828 ; and declared that he 
received a copy of the words in 1770. We believe that Lady Anne Lindsay 
adopted the name ' Gray ' from the cenlury-old ' Covetous-minded Parents,' 
and also the subject; although the name ' Robin' had belonged to the old herd, 
and ' The bridegroom grat" 1 gave the first suggestion. She wrote, " I longed to 
sing old Sophy's air to different words, and give to its plaintive tones some 
little history of virtuous distress in humble life, such as might suit it." 

Its instantaneous popularity was well deserved. Not only is it the most 
supremely lovely of narrative ballads written at so late a date, but the purity 
and dignity of every verse are worthy of highest praise, lifting it far above all 
other ditties circling around ' The Miseries of Enforced Marriages. ' None 
of the sequels are good (see p. 863), including Lady Anne's own suicidal 
two failures: "The Spring had passed over, 'twas Summer nae mair " — with 
Auld Robin's deathbed confession, " In mercy forgive me ! — ■' t was I stole the 
cow!" and the 'Second Continuation, sung by Jenny, softly, at her wheel,' 
beginning, " The wintry days grew lang, my tears they were a' shed " : with 
the reiterated confession, degrading the character of Auld Robin Gray : 

" ' I 've wrong'd her sair,' he said, ' but kent the truth o'er late; 
Jt 's grief for that alone that hastens now my date. [ ! 

But a' is for the best, since death will shortly free 
A young and faithful heart, that was ill match'd wi' me. 

" ' I loo'd and sought to win her for mony a lang day, [sic. 

I had her parents' favour, but still she said ine nay : 
I knew na Jamie's luve ; and oh, it 's sair to tell — 
To force her to be mine, I steal d her cow mystV. 

" ' Oh, what cared I for Crummie? I thought of nought but thee. 
I thought it was the cow stood 'twixt my luve and me. 
While she maintain' d ye a', was you not heard to say, 
That you wad never marry wi' Auld Robin Gray ? 

" ' But sickness in the house, and hunger at the door, 

My bairn gied me her hand, although her heart was sore. 

I saw her heart was sore — why did I take her hand ? To more stanzas: 

That was a sinfu' deed ! to blast a bonnie land.' " L 12 in all. 

It is difficult to conceive that the self-acknowledged authoress of such imbecile 
sequels could have previously written the introductory stanza, "When the sheep 
are in the fauld," with the ballad " Young Jamie lo'ed me weel, and sought 
me for his bride." All three were printed for the Bannatyne Club in 1825. 
Lady Barnard died next year. One almost doubts her claim to the original. Her 
continuations are worse than a fraud. " The annoyance [of being interrogated | 
was amply repaid to me by the noble exhibition of the ' Ballat of Auld Robin 
Gray's Courtship ' as performed by dancing dogs under my window. It proved its 
popularity from the highest to the lowest, and gave me pleasure while I hugged 
myself in my obscutity." Oh, the vanity of ' Women- writers ' with their sequels ! 

Thackeray no less debased his Henry Esmond, by making him marry the 
mother of Beatrix, and thus become the father of the vixen Rachel Esmond. His 
own sequel, 'The Virginians,' cannot be named in the same breath with 'Esmond.' 

[Pepys Collection, V, 163. Apparently unique.] 

C&e Onconstant s^attsen; or, C6e jTor.saken 


SJjclm'mj hoto a ©ebmtsht're^amsel marrg'tt another foljile her 
5Loticr rjoas came ta Eoifoon, ta fits peat grief. 

To a pleasant new Tune [its own, Ring of Gold]. Licensed according to Order. 

nArewell, my dearest Dear ! now I must leave thee, 


Those bright and shineing Eyes cause me to love thee ; 
Those cherry Cheeks of thine, that need no blushes ; 
Those red and ruby Lips burns me to ashes. 

Here is a Ring of Gold, my Dear ; accept it ; 
'T is for your sake alone long have I kept it ; 
Head but the Posie on 't, ' Think on the Giver ! ' 
Madam, I dye for love, I dye for ever. 

Bad news is come to Town, bad news is carry'd ; 
Bad news is come to Town, my Love is Marry'd. 
Bad news is come to Town, I fell a weeping; 
My Love was stole away, as I lay sleeping. 

Since you so cruel be to make me wretched, 
I '11 no more think on thee, sighs I have fetched. 
I '11 no more doat on her, since she is cruel ; 
She shall be now my scorn : she was my Jewel. 

[Second ^art, to the same Tune.] Woman. 

" T^Arewell, unconstant Swain ! once did I love thee; 
J_ But siuce it was in vain, now I 'rn above thee. 
When I told you I lov'd, and I would have you, 
Then false to me you prov'd, and you did leave me. 

" As for your Ring of Gold, I do abhor it ; 

You may, when you are old, get Money for it : 
Since that you tell me plain, long you have kept it, 
Keep it as long again ! I '11 ne'r accept it. 

" If I did seem unkind 't was but to try you, 
But now I know your miud I do defie you. 
I once thought you to be not so false-hearted ; 
Had you prov'd true to me we ne'r had parted. 

" Of all your promises you are forgetful ; 

Young-Men I fiud by this, they are deceitful. 

They vow and swear they love, all to deceive us : 

And when that kind we prove, then, then they leave us." 

Printed for P. Brooksby, J. Beacon, J. Blare, and /. Back, [w.-l., c. 1690.] 


[Pepys Collection, V, 165. Apparently unicpie.] 

goting Larue's ansfoer to t&e jforsaken Loticr: 

In Umofcnttcm of tirr gclf fat ffflnrrgmg another. 

To an excellent new Tune [The Ring of Gold : see pp. lxx*, lxxvi*]. 

BEt'ore you went to Town, just at our parting, 
Then your love you did own to be most lasting ; 
And you declared too, I should hear from ye, 
And have a line or two : But ne'er had any. 

Then your Vows you did seal with pressing Kisses, 
Which my heart soon did steal by those false blisses ; 
But when you got to Town, I was not thought on : 
A New Love you had found with bigger Fortune. 

Some months did pass away, while I expected 
To hear from you each day, but was neglected, 
Which made me then to doubt, you did deceive me, 
As since I 've found it out, how you did leave me. 

Here is your Ring you gave, when you departed ; 
Nothing of yours I '11 have, that 's so false-hearted. 
How many Vows you made, soft Kisses bound them : 
I thought all true you said, but false I found them. 

When I found you untrue, had you a Lordship, 
I 'd not be bound to you, in your false Courtship ; 
But Fortune prov'd more kind, I met another, 
And married, to my mind, a constant Lover. 

Tho' you bid Maids beware, I needs must tell ye, 
You '11 draw Maids in a snare, if they '11 believe ye. 
Therefore young Women, then, mind not their wooing, 
For such false-hearted Men are your undoing. 

But if you marry him that 's True and Loving, 
Then you will ne'er repine, nor e"er be grieving : 
For your whole life will be pleasant and easie, 
Your Love will always be ready to please ye. 

Printed and Sold by T. Moore, 1691. [White-letter. No cut or music] 
[Pepys Collection, V, 164. Apparently unique.] 

an anstoer to tfre ([Inconstant a^aiuen : 

Containing the Sorrowful Bride's bitter tears and passion for her Disloyalty to her 
first Love, whom she left, and married another, after they were sure together 
[i.e. ' hand-fast,' or betrothed], while he came to London. 
Tune of, The Unconstant Maiden\_, p. lxxvi*]. Licensed according to Order. 

I Am a mournfull Bride, almost distracted ; 
Kind Heavens be my Guide ! how have I acted 
Unto my Loyal Love, who did adore me ? 
I did false-hearted prove : who can restore me 

That pleasant sweet Delight and double Blessing 
The which, both day and night, I was possessing, 
Before I broke my Vow, when my Love parted ? 
Conscience, oh ! tells me now, I was false-hearted. 

lxxviii* Unconstant Maiden's Answer to Forsaken Lover 

A sumptuous Ring of G<M my Jewel gave me, 
On which, dear Friends, behold, he did engrave me: 
This posie is on the same, " Think on the Giver ; 
Who will adore thy name, Lady, for ever." 
This Ring I did receive, and Vows did make him, 
Who did that day believe I 'd ne'er forsake him. 
Long he was not in Town e'er I was married : 
Fortune on me doth frown, would I had tarried. 
Since I have wrong' d my Dear, Fortune ordain'd me 
No peace or quiet here ; Conscience arraigns me 
For this Unconstancy, sleeping or waking ; 
I ready am to dye, my Heart is breaking. 

At first I did pretend my Love did leave me : [Not a bene. 

In this I did offend, if you '11 believe me. 
The Fault was mine alone, for he did love me, 
There was not any one he prized ahove me. 

He that enjoys me now (here I assure him, 
Since I have broke my Vow), I can't endure him. 
Tempted I was to wed, True Love to sever, 
Bat now I loath' his Bed, and shall for ever. 

Down from my melting eyes the tears did trickle : 
Why did a fond surprise make me thus fickle? 
First, to oblige by Oath and Vow I 'd tarry, 
Yet straight did break them both, when I did marry. 

You Loyal Lovers all, that hears this Story, 

Pity my wofull Fall, my blasted Glory : 

I '11 languish in despair, robbed of all pleasure ; 

My Grief is, I declare, still out of measure. [ JFllltS. 

Printed for P. Brooksby, T. Beacon, J. Blare, and /. Buck. 
[White-letter. No cuts. Date, circa 1691. This completes the story.~\ 

^| One single author may have ivritten nearly all the ballads to his 
oivn tune, ' The Ring of QoW (see pp. lxxix***; lxxi*). 

Thackeray's List, No. 183, ' Poor Robin's Prophesie.' ( Of. p. 470.) 
[Pepys Coll., IV, 304 ; Jersey, x h; Rawl., xf s ; Douce, II, 183 ; C. 22, %|.] 

Poor Eobin's ipropfjcste; ©r, 

2Trje fHcrro Ccmcritct) jFortunc=tcller. 

Although the Poet makes no large Apology, 
Some insight he may have into Ass-trology : 
Then buy this Song, and give your Judgement of it, 
And then perhaps you '1 say he 's a small Prophet ; 

For he can tell when things will come to pass, 

That you will say is strange as ever was. 

Tune of, The Beliyhts of the Bottle, etc. [Vol. iv, p. 44.] 

With Allowance, Ko. L'Estrange. 

A LI you that delight for to hear a New Song, 
Or to see the World turn'd Topsie-turvie ere long, 
Come, give good attention unto these my Rhimes, 
And never complain of the hardness of times : 
For all will be mended, by this you may find, 
And Golden Bays come — when the Bevil is blind. 

Poor Robin s Prophecy. lxxix* 

And first for the Shop-keeper, this I can tell, 
That after loner trusting, all things will be well, 
The Gallant will pay him what ever's his due, 
And make him rejoyce when he finds it is true. 

False weights and false measures he then will not mind, 

But honest ivill prove— when the Devil is blind. 

The Country Client that comes up to Term, [Bagford Bds., p. 401. 
Likewise from this subject, good news he may learn, 
A benefit which he shall never more leese, 
For Lawyers hereafter will plead without Fees : 

You shall have Law freely, if you be inclin'd, 

Without any charge — when the Devil is blind. 

The Usurer open his Coffers will throw, 

And break all his Locks both above and below, 

He'l burn all his Parchments, and cancel his Bands, [=bonds. 

And freely return all his Mortgaged Lands : 

Young Heirs will be glad for to see them so kind, 

But that will not be — till the Devil is blind. 

The Learned Physitian, who valued his wealth, 

Will now be more chary of all people's health, 

And make it his business, howe're he doth thrive, 

To puzzle his brains for to keep men alive : [t. ' pussle.' 

Nor Mountebank-Bills in the streets you shall find, 
For they 'I keep in their lies — when the Devil is blind. 

Your Lady of Pleasure, that us'd for to rant, [p. 711. 

And coach it about with her lusty Gallant, 
Will then become modest, and find a new way 
To live like a Nun in a Cloyster all day : 

Her pride and her painting she never will mind, 

But seem like a Saint — when the Devil is blind. 

Yea, the Bullies them selves, that did use for to rore, 
And spent great estates in good Wine and a wh . . e, 
Shall leave off their gameing, and fairly take up, 
And scarcely will taste of the Grape half a Cup : 

But leave good Canary and Claret behind, 

Small Tipple to drink — when the Devil is blind. 

The Hecks and the Padders, who used to prey, r = Hectors, 

And venture abroad for ' no purchase, no pay,' [.highwaymen. 

Shall work for their livings, and find a new trade, 
And never more travel like Knights of the Blade : 

Let Newgale stand empty, and then you will find 

All this will prove true — when the Devil is blind. 

All Trades-men will strive for to help one another, 
And friendly will be, like to Brother and Brother, 
And keep up their prices that Money may flow, 
Their charge to maintain and to pay what they owe : 

Then two of a trade shall agree, if you mind, 

And all will be well — when the Devil is blind. 

The Tapsters no more shall their Ticklers froth, r Vota hme. 

No Coffee-men blind us with their Ninny-broth; |_Coft'ce. 

Full-measures of Liquor shall pas's through the land, 

And men without Money the same shall command. 
You '11 say 't is a wonder, when this you do find, 
And that you will, sure — when the Devil is blind. 

lxxx* Poor Robin's Prophecy* 

Not onely the City shall find this welfare, 

But throughout the Country the same they shall share ; 

No cheating and couzcning tricks shall be us'd, 

For by such deceit we have all been abus'd. 

Those men who of late with Duke Humphrey have dined, j" rami's 
With plenty shall flow — when the Devil is blind. [Church. 

Then let us be merry, and frolick amain, 
Since the Golden World is returning again ; 
We shall be all Gallants, as sure as a Gun, 
When this work is finisht that's hardly begun. 

Then Poets in both pockets Guinncys shall find, [Issued 1663. 

And purchase estates — when the Devil is blind. 

Printed for F. Coles, T. Vere, J. Wright, and /. Clarke. 
[b.-l. Two cuts : the Cavalier and lady encircled with carnations, vol. vi, p. 181.] 

Not previously mentioned was a white-letter ballad (Pepys CoU., V, 137) 
in 1690. It bore title, 'The Valiant Damsel: Giving an account, of a Maid at 
Westminster, who put herself in Man's Apparel, and listed her self for a Soldier 
for the Wars of Flanders.' Tune of, Let Mary live long (p. 546). 

" C\ Ood People, attend, I bring a Relation of girls in this nation : 
VJ Who sought to defend this Kingdom and Crown ; 
In this present Reign they fought on the Main, like Strangers to Fate : 
And now here 's another, and now here 's another, was listed of late." 

Amorous girls who disguised themselves in male attire and fought as 
volunteers in the Army have been frequently sung (see Bagford Ballads, 
p. 323, etc., and lloxburghe Bds., vol. vii, pp. 727-739). Others (p. exxxviii*) 
sought maritime adventures, like the " Ladie fair and free," who showed her 
valour, after the "four and twenty brisk young fellows, clad they were in blue 
array, came and press'd young Billy Taylor, and forthwith sent him to sea. Soon 
his true love followed after, under the name of Richard Carr, and her lily 
white hands she daubed all over with the nasty pitch and tar." She disposed of 
her inconstant William by means of ' sword and pistol,' and thereby gained 
promotion summarily as Lieutenant of the gallant Thunderbomb. With 
remarkable unanimity, many of the" Portsmouth maidens followed her example in 
the II.C.B. Gunboat, but their sex was discovered "after a fortnight's cruise " : 

" And then their hair came down for off, as the case may he), 
And lo ! the rest of the crew were simple girls, like me, 
Who all had fled from their homes in a sailor's blue array, 
To follow the shifting fate of kind Lieutenant Belaye." 

According to Shakespeare, not Saxo-Gntmmaticus, "The story is extant, and 
written in very choice Italian." " I think we do know the sweet Roman hand." 

In general these riotous unsexed viragoes chose the Army sooner than the Navy. 
France always furnished the bravest and loveliest Vivandieres. Our Irish and 
Fnglish suttlers, our Moll Flagons, were brutalized camp-followers of the 
lowest class, notoriously pilferers, slatterns, and tipplers, devoid of decency. 
They were worse than the long-shore thieves who lie 'waiting for Jack' at 
Wapping or Limehouse-Hole, or "at Fultah Fisher's Boarding-house, where 
sailor-men reside ; and there were men of all the ports from Mississip to Clyde : 
And regally they spat and smoked, and fearsomely they lied." Their ' Pleasant ' 
guide -philosopher-and-friend, Rogue Riderhood's daughter, knew that money 
could be won from them easily. "Then they ship again and get more. And 
the best thing for them, too ! to ship again as soon as ever they can be brought 
to it. They 're never so well off as when they 're afloat." 

We ourselves return to the sea, for early ballad, ' Praise of Saylors,' p. lxxxi*. 


[Pepys Collection, I, 418, and IV, 197 ; Rawlinson, 157 ; Euing, 267.] 

Cbe praise of Raptors 

^ere set fottfj, fettfj % fyatti fortunes ruljfcfj tra befall tljem on tlje 
Seas, iriljcn tfje 3Lantomen sleep safe in tijetr BetJS. 

To a Pleasant New Tune. 

AS I lay musing in my bed, full warme and well at ease, 
I thought upon the lodging hard poore Saylors have at Seas. 

They bide it out with hunger and cold, and many a bitter blast, 
And many a time constrain'd they are for to cut downe their Mast. 

Their Victuals and their Ordinance, and ought else that they have, 
They throw it over-board with speed, and seeke their lives to save. 

When as the raging Seas doe fome, and loftie winds doe blow, 

The Saylors they goe to the Top, when Land-men stay below. [vi, 428. 

Our Master's mate takes Helme in hand, his course he steeres full well, 
When as the loftie winds doe blow, and raging Seas doe swell. 

Our Master to his Compasse goes, so well he plies his charge : 
He sends a youth to the Top amaine, for to unsling the Yeards. 

The Boatswain hee 's under the Deck, a man of courage bold : 
" To th' top, to th' top, my lively Lads ; hold fast, my hearts of gold ! " 

The Pilot he stands on the Chaine with Line and Lead to sound, 
To see how farre and neere they are from any dangerous ground. 

It is a testimoniall good, we are not farre from land, [Ibid. 

There sits a Mermaid on the Rocke, with Combe and Glasse in hand. 

Our Captaine he is on the Poope, a man of might and power, 
And lookes when raging Seas do gape our bodies to devour. 

Our royall Ships is runne to racke, that was so stout and trim, 
And some are put unto their shifte, either to sinke or swim. 

Secantj ipatt. To the same Tune. 

OUr Ship that was before so good, and she likewise so trim, 
Is now with raging Seas growne leakt, and water fast comes in. 

The Quarter-master is a man, so well his charge plies he, 

He calls them to the Pumpe amaine, to keepe their ship leake-free. 

And many great dangers, likewise, they doe many times endure, 
When as they meet their enemies, that come with might and power ; 

And seeke likewise from them to take their lives and eke their goods: 
Thus Saylors they sometimes endure upon the surging floods. 

But when as they doe come to Land, and homewards safe returne, 
They are most kinde good fellows all, and scorne ever to mourne. 

And likewise they will call for wine, and score it on the Post : 

For Saylors they are honest men, and will pay well their Oast. [host. 

For Saylors they are honest men, and they doe take great paines ; 
When Landed men and ruffling lads doe rob them of their gaines. 

Our Saylors they worke night and day, their manhood for to try, 
When landed men and ruffling Jacks doe in their cabins lye. 

Second Division, Pkef. Note. f* 


'Hk* 8 peevish and jealous of all the young fellows." 

Therefore, let all good- mindful men give eare unto my Song, 
And say also, as well as I, ' Saylors deserve no wrong.' 

This have I done for Saylors' sakes, in token of good will ; 
If ever I can do them good, I will be ready still. 

God blesse them eke by Sea and Land, and also other men ; 
And as my song beginning had, so must it have an end. 

Printed for John Wright [circa 1605-32: Pepys Coll., I, 418]. 

A later edition (Pepys Coll., IV, 197) has variations — "is here set forth"; 
printed as one poem, without division into two parts: reads "had at seas"; 
" He sends a youth unto the Mast, for to unsling the Yard" ; " looks how the 
Seas do gape " ; " lenkt ship " ; "homewards fiforeturne " ; " and love to pay " ; 
" they are honest men" ; " Land men" : P. for Coles, Vere, and Wright, c. 1646. 
Euing, 267, is distinct, Printed for Coles, Vere, and W. Gilbertson. These differ 
in tune from Martin Parker's '■When the stormy winds do blow': Campbell 
copied it in 1801, degrading ' stormy winds' into 'stormy tempests' 1 : 

" Ye Mariners of England ! that guard our native seas, 
Whose flag has braved a thousand years the battle and the breeze, 
Your glorious Standard launch again, to match another foe, 
And sweep through the deep, while the stormy tempests blow : 
While the battle rages loud and long, and the stormy tempests blotv." 

See Martin Parker's " Country-men of England, who live at home with ease," 
reprinted in vol. vi, p. 796; and vi, p. 432, "You Gentlemen of England, that 
lives at home at ease, Full little do you think upon the dangers of the Seas." 

' What should a Foung Woman do with an Old Man .» ' 
If I with some young men do chance for to meet, 
And do but them friendly and courteously greet, 
Then he begins presently to scould and brawl, 
And a thousand base names he then will me call." — p. 680. 

Ballad known as ' The Palatine Lovers.' lxxxiii* 

' The Unfortunate Love of a Lancashire Gentleman, and the hard 
Fortune of a fair Young Bride ' was not ever in the Roxburghe 
or the Bagford Collections. It is No. 101 of the ' Thackeray List ' 
(see p. lxxiii***), and was often referred to by its tune-name, 
Come, follow my Love, and by its well-known burden, Alack, for my 
Love L shall die ! By annexation, it becomes a Roxburghe Ballad. 
It was formerly called (p. 573) ' The Palatine Lovers.' 

' The Miseries of Inforced Marriage ' formed the theme and title of a play 
by George Wilkins, in 1607, but it was made to end happily, and the comedy 
was imitated by Mrs. Aphra Behn (see p. 856), in- her 'Town Fop,' 1677. 
The painful aspects of these outrages on nature were frequently the subject of 
romantic ballads, such as are reprinted on pp. 189-199, 815. No less frequently 
the matrimonial infelicity and consequent adultery served satirists for popular 
lampoons, when dramatic poets could say (as Byron sang, in Don Juan), 

" The sad truth, which hovers o'er my desk, 
Turns what was once romantic to burlesque." 

[Pepys Coll., Ill, 318 ; Rawl., 179 ; Wood, ^-; Euing, 80 ; Douce, T fo-] 

an (BvttUmt iBaUati, iimtulet) : %%t tanfommare llofoe 

at a ILancashfre (gentleman, ana the ftaro JFortune of a fair 

The Tune is, Come, follow my Love. [See pp. 120, 573.] 

LOok, you faithful Lovers, on my unhappy state, 
See my tears distilling, but poured out too late, 
And buy no foolish Fancy at too dear a rate. 

Alack, for my Love L shall dye ! [Burden, passim. 

My Father is a Gentleman, well known of high degree, 

And tender of my Welfare evermore was he ; 

He sought for Reputation, but all the worse for me. Alack ! etc. 

There was a proper Maiden, of favour sweet and fair, 

To whom in deep affection I closely did repair. 

In heart I dearly loved her : Loe, thus began my care ! 

For Nature had adorn'd her with qualities divine, 
Prudent in her actions, and in behaviour fine : 
Upon a sweeter creature the Sun did never shine. 

Nothing wanting in her, but this, the grief of all, 
Of Birth she was but lowly, of Substance very small : 
A simple hired Servant, and subject to each call. 

Yet she was my pleasure, my joy, and heart's delight, 
More rich than any treasure, more precious in my sight : 
At length to one another our Promise we did plight. 

And thus unto my Father the thing I did reveal, 
Desiring of his favour, nothing I did conceal : 
But he my dear affection regarded ne'er a deal. 

Quoth he : " Thou graceless Fellow, thou art my only Heir, 
And for thy own preferment hast thou no better care P 
To marry with a Beggar, that is both poor and bare ! 

Ixxxiv* ' The Palatine Lovers' 

" I charge thee, on my Blessing, thou do her sight refrain, 
And that into her company you never come again ; 
That you should be so marryed I take it in disdain. 

" Are there so many Gentlemen of worshipful degree 
That hare most honest Daughters of Beauty fair and free, 
And can none but a Beggar's Brat content and pleasure thee ? 

" By God. that made all Creatures, this Vow to thee I make, 
If thou do not this Beggar refuse and quite forsake, 
From thee thy due Inheritance I wholly mean to take." 

These his bitter speeches did sore torment my mind ; 
Knowing well how greatly he was to Wealth inclin'd, 
My heart was slain with sorrow, no comfort I could find. 

Then did I write a Letter, and sent it to my Dear, 
"Wherein my first affection all changed did appear, 
"Which from her fair Eyes forced the pearled water clear. 

For grief, unto the Messenger one word she could not speak, 
Those doleful heavy tidings her gentle heart did break ; 
Yet sought not by her speeches on me her heart to wreak. 

This deed within my conscience tormented me full sore, 
To think upon the Promise I made her long before, 
And for the true performance how I most deeply swore. 

I could not be in quiet till I to her did go, 

"Who for my sake remained in sorrow, grief, and woe, 

And unto her in secret my full intent to show. 

My sight rejoyced greatly her sad perplexed heart, 

From both our eyes on sudden the trickling tears did start, 

And in each other's bosom we breathed forth our smart. 

Unknown unto my Father, or any Friend beside, 
Our selves we closely married, she was my only Bride, 
Yet still within her Service I caus'd her to abide. 

But never had two Lovers more sorrow, care, or grief, 
No means in our extremity we found for our relief : 
And now what further hupp'ned here followeth in brief. 

SHje Second Part, to the same Ttjke. 

NOw, you loyal Lovers, attend unto the rest ; 
See by secret Marriage how sore I am oppress'd, 
For why my foul misfortune herein shall be express'd. 

My Father came unto me upon a certain day, 
And with a merry countenance, and words that seem'd all gay, 
" My Son," quoth he, " come hither, and mark what I shall say : 

" Seeing you are disposed to lead a Wedded Life, 
I have unto your credit provided you a Wife, 
Where thou may'st live delightful, without all care and strife : 

" Master Senock's Daughter, most beautiful and wise ; 
Three hundred pounds her Portion, may well thy mind suffice, 
Aud by her friends and kindred thou may'st to credit rise. 

" This is, my Son, undoubted, a Mate for thee most meet, 
She is a proper Maiden, most delicate and sweet, 
Go, wooe her then and wed her, I shall rejoyce to see 't. 

( The Palatine Lovers.' lxxxv* 

" Her friends and I have talked, and thereon have agreed, 
Then be not thou abashed, but speedily proceed ; 
Thou shalt be entertained, and have no doubt to speed." 

" pardon me, dear Father ! " with bashful looks, I said; 
" To enter into marriage I sorely am afraid : 

A Single Life is lovely, therein my mind is stayed." 

When he had heard my speeches, his anger did arise ; 
He drove me from his presence, my sight he did despise, 
And strait to disinherit me all means he did devise. 

When I my self perceived in that ill case to stand 

Most lewdly I consented unto his fond demand, [fond = foolish. 

And married with the other, and all to save my Land. 

And at this hapless Marriage, great cost my Friends did keep ; 
They spared not their poultry, their oxen, nor their sheep : 
Whilst joyfully they danced, I did in corners weep. 

My conscience sore tormented was, which did me of joys deprive; 
I for to hide my sorrow in thoughts did always strive : 
Quoth I, "What shame will it be to have two wives alive ! 

" my sweet Margaret ! " I did in sorrow say, 
" Thou know'st not in thy service of this my Marriage-day : 
Tho' here my body resteth, with thee my heart doth stay." 

And in my meditations came in my lovely Bride, 

With chains and jewels trimmed, and silken robes beside, 

Saying, " Why doth my true Love so sadly here abide? " 

Yea, twenty lovely kisses she did on me bestow, 

And forth abroad a walking this lovely Maid did go, 

Yea, arm and arm most friendly, with him that was her Foe. 

But when that I had brought her where no body was near, 
I embraced her most fals'ly, with a most feigned chear; 
Unto the heart I stabbed this Maiden fair and clear. 

My self in woeful manner I wounded with a Knife, 

And laid my self down by her, by this my married Wife, 

And said that Thieves to rob us had wrought this deadly strife. 

Great wailing and great sorrow was then upon each side, 
In woeful sort they buried this fair and comely Bride, 
And my Dissimulation hereiu was quickly try'd. 

And for this cruel Murther to death now I am brought ; 

For this my aged Father did end his days in nought : 

My Margaret at these tidings her own destruction wrought. 

Loe, here the doleful peril blind Fancy brought me in ! 
And mark what care and sorrow Forced Marriages do bring. 
All men by me be Warned, and Lord forgive my Sin. 
Alack, for my Love I shall dye ! 

London : Printed fori^. Coles, T. Tere, and W. Gilhertson. (C. 22, e, 2: fol. 43 

' Printed for A. M., W. (>., and T. Thackeray, at the Angel in Buck Lane.' 1 ) 

[Black-letter. Two cuts, on p. 701. Original, before the Restoration.] 

II Quite distinct from the unique ' Salutation ' on next page, was an earlipr 
ballad, popular before 1620, beginning, " Methinks it is a pleasant thing to walk 
on "Primrose-SUV (See F. D.'s ' Medley,' in vol. i, p. ,57. It was, perhaps, 
the original Dancing ofPrimroie-Hill: see pp. 204, lxxxvii*.) 


[Pepys Collection, III, 53. Probably unique.] 

%f)t jstom Salutation on punrogc^ill ; 


I know you not, I know you not ! 

What, doth the times so change ? 

I knew the time we have not bin so strange : 

But this by Maids must never be forgot, 

When men Intice, to say- — ' I knoiv you not.' 

To the Tune of, Though Father angry be ; or, [I am so] Deep in Luve. 
[See Note on p. lxxxvii*, and vol. vi, pp. 253, 254.] 

IN the pleasant month of Mag, a young man met a Maid 
On Primrose-Hill so gay, and thus to her he said : 
" Fair Maid, sit down by me, upon this flowerie place, 
Fine pastime thou shalt see, within a little space." 

Maid. — " Good Sir, excuse me now, I cannot stay " (quoth she), 
" I must go milk the cow, my Mother will angry be. 
Nor can I tell, forsooth, what may be my lot ; 
But this I say, in truth, Good Sir, I know you not!" 

Man. — " Fair Maid, be not so coy ! a Lesson to thee I '11 play, 
Shall fill thy heart with joy, on Primrose-Hill so gay." 
He play'd her then a note upon the Violin : 
He had bis Lesson by rote, 't was called, ' In and In.' [Boree. 

But still she was in haste, and still she told him so, 
Maid. — " To give my Mother distaste I never yet will doe." 

And still she cry'd, " Forsooth ! I cannot tell my lot ; 
But this I say, in truth, Good Sir, I know you not." 

Man. — " You know me not ! " (quoth he), "but yet in time you may, 
We shall acquainted be on Primrose-Hill this day." 
But still she cry'd, " Forsooth ! I cannot tell my lot ; 
But this I say, in truth, Good Sir, I know you not." 

Man. — " I am a Rich man's Heir, and he to me will give 

Five hundred pound a year, when no longer he can live." 
But still she cry'd, " Forsooth ! I cannot tell my lot ; 
But this I say, in truth, Good Sir, I know you not." 

Man. — " I will maintain thee so, that none shall equal thee ; 
Thou Lady-like shalt go, if thou wilt yield to me." 
But still she cry'd, " Forsooth ! I cannot tell my lot ; 
Yet this I say, in truth, Good Sir, I know gou not.'''' 

Man. — " Thou shalt not go on foot, but Lady-like shalt ride, 
Thy Page sit in the Boot, my self sit by thy side." 
But still she cry'd, " Forsooth ! I cannot tell my lot ; 
Yet this 1 say, in truth, Good Sir, 1 know gou not.'''' 

Man. — " Loe, thou shalt be my Bride, and all shall then be thine; 
If thou can'st now confide and yield thy self as mine." 
When she heard him say so, she quickly had forgot 
To answer him with " No, good Sir, 1 know gou not." 

She unto him did yield, and he was well content 

Upon her ground to build, which made her to repent. 

Yet he did please her so, that she had now [forgot [text, ' <fcc. 

To answer him with " No, good Sir, I know gou not."] 

The Sweet Salutation on Primrose-Hill. Ixxxvii* 
[@TJ)e Secant Part. To the same Tune.] 

BUt at the length, alass ! her h[od]y began to swell, 
And so it came to pass, the naked truth to tell. 
And when she had found it so, she said, ["I had forgot] 
To answer him with, ' No, good Sir, I know you not.'' " 

Her Cow was quick with Calf, and she was quick within, 

The wound was worse by half than breaking of her shin ; 

And when she found it so, she said, ["I had forgot 

To answer him with 'No, good Sir, I know you not.'' "] \t. breaks off. 

But since she was so wild, for ought that I can gather, 
Since she is prov'd with child, she may go look the Father. 
And when she found it so, she said, \_" I had forgot,"] etc. 

Her Mother now, therefore, did 6nd the matter out, 
And turn'd her out of door, with many a jear and flout : 
" Are you my child ? " (quoth she). "Alas! I have forgot: 
If that with child you be, be gone ! I know you not." 

She to her Uncle went, and made the matter known, 
But she was soundly shent, for making of her moan. [i.e. abashed. 
" Are you my Cusse ? " (quoth he). "Alas ! [I have forgot : 
If that with child you be, be gone ! I know you not.] 

" If you stay longer here, to Bridewell you shall go, 

And dainty whipping-chear I will on you bestow. [Cf. p. 569. 

Are you my Cusse ? " (quoth he). " Alas ! I have forgot," etc. 

This "Wench was wondrous ill ; at length the Man did find, 
[Her] Mother on Primrose-Kill, to him she broke her mind. 
" Bold wh . . e!" (quoth he), "forbear! wilt thou mine honour blot ? 
I '11 kick you now, I swear : begone ! I know you not." 

When she heard him say so, she soon did him arrest, 
She bent him to her bow, a dainty Primrose jest : 
And when she had told him so, she told him 't was his lot, 
To prison he must go : "Be gone ! 1 know you not." 

She made him promise then that he should keep the Child, 
Before sufficient men, since that he had her [girl] beguil'd. 
Yet she did not forget the Sport at Primrose- Hill ; 
He plai'd her such a Fit, makes her to love him still. 

" If I might have my will, if that it proves a Boy, 
His name is Primrose- Hill, his mother's only Joy." 
Fair Maidens, now be wise, for fear this be your lot : 
If man do you intice, say this — " / know you not ! " 

London : Printed for W. Thackeray, T. Passenger, and W. Whitwood. 

[Black-letter. Two woodcuts. Date of this reissue, before 1685.] 

No. 24C of Wm. Thackeray's List (p. lxxii***) had been simply entitled 
'Primrose Hill,' For the tune cited as The Dancing of Primrose Hill, see 
p. 204 ; it agreed with Come, Sweetheart, and embrace thine own (vol. vii, p. 244). 
For [/ am so] Deep in love, see vol. vi, p. 253. ' The Sweet Salutation ' is now 
first reprinted. The motif resembles that of 'The Northumberland Bagpipes,' 
quoted on p. Ixxxviii*. The varying burden, But now let Fortune frown, and 
Father angry be, belongs to another ballad, 'The Merry Maid of Middlesex''; 
beginning, " It is not long agone, since Cupid with his dart." Its own tune is 
The Maid that lost her way, viz., " Within the North-Uouatry " : see next page. 

lxxxviii* " W? a Hundred Pipers, an' aw ! an' aw ! " 

pleagant ncto §>ong, if pou 'le Scare it pou map, 
£>f a j]2ortS=€oimtrp-JLa00e tgat fiao Io?5t fytz toap* 

To a New Court Tune. 

Within the North-Countrey, as true report doth yeeld, 
There stands an ancient country town is called merry Wakefield. 
"Within tbis Country towne a lively Lasse doth dwell, 
She goes unto the market-place her housewifery to see. 

[Fourteenth and last stanza of First Fart.~\ 

So downe the Maiden sate, the Shepherd sate her by, 

And then he pluckt his bag-pipes forth, and plai'd melodiously. 

(Efje Secouo Part, to the same Tune. 

He plai'd her such a fit [around] it made her bravely sing, 
The musick of his Bag-pipes' sound made all the vallies ring. 
When that his winde was spent, and he grew some what weary, 
He told her which way she should goe, and passe over no ferry. 
" Shepherd, Shepherd ! " she said, "if reason may permit, 
Come play that lesson over againe, I may it not forget." 

[Fleven more stanzas : a total of twenty-five.] JitttS. 

Printed at London for R. Gosson. [Black-letter, circa. 1640.] 

A modern version of nine stanzas, 1715, is "Down in the North-Country, as 
ancient reports do tell " (tune in Pop. Music, p. 381 ; words in Merry Musician). 

There is a close affinity between this ballad and ' The Merry Bagpipes,' or 
' Northumberland Bagpipes ' ; but that has a different tune, viz., March, boys ! 
(see Popular Music, p. 536). It was reprinted in vol. vii, p. 326, beginning : 

A Shepherd sate him under a thorn, he pull'd out his pipe and began for to play, 
It was a Midsummer's- Bay in the morn, for honour of that Holyday, 
A ditty he did chant along, that goes to the tune of Cater Boree, 
And tbis was the burthen of his song : *' If thou wilt pipe, lad, Vll dance to thee, 
To thee, to thee, derry derry, tfi thee " (bis) : etc. 

Somewhat sib to this is the humorous Scottish song, " "Wha. wadna be in 
love wi' bonnie Maggy Lauder ? " As to its authorship, we distrust the claims 
advanced for Francis Semple, of Beltrees, Renfrew, by such people as James 
Paterson (compiler of the 'Memoir of James Fillaiis,' Scottish sculptor, whose 
bust of Professor Wilson, 'Christopher North,' suffices to keep his fame alive). 
"We know too much about Paterson, who, like William Stenhouse, unblushingly 
asserted that Semple wrote 'She rose and let me in' : it was by Tom D'Urtey, 
1683 (see vol. vi, p. 197). Old Ballads, ii, 258, 1723, has a reprint of " There 
lived a Lass in our town, her name was Moggy Lawder.'" In Charles Coffey's 
' Phozbe^ 1729, is tune, 'Moggy Lawther on a day.' 'Rab the Ranter' version 
is in Herd, 1769, long after the death of Habbie Sympson, Piper of Kilbarchan, 
named by Maggy. "She up and wallop'd o'er the green." So did the 'lively 
Lass of Wakefield,' unfureseeing a later Vicar o' that ilk: "A Primrose on 
the [Calder's] brim " ; with more sympathy than others found in Eden. 

Of D' Urfey's " Lads and lasses blith and gay " one coy girl confessed thus : — 

" But resolving to deny, an angry passion feigning, 

I often roughly push'd him by, with words full of disdaining. 

WiVy, baulk'd, no favour wins, went off so discontented: 

But I, geud faith ! for all my sins ne'er half so much repented." 

John Aubrey's ' Country Revel' 1671. Ixxxix* 

Of the next ballad, the First Part, the Title, and printer's name are lost from 
the unique exemplar in black-letter which gives us these tantalizing first and 
second stanzas. They recall the mirth of " Down lay the Shepherd swain," p. 691. 

2Tfje JSeconti ^art. To the same Tune. 

[Tune, John Dory ; or, Sir Eglamore, iii, p. 607 ; Friar in the Well, vii, 222.] 

OCome, my own Deare, let 's dally a while, 
with a fa la, la la la la la. 
Thou hast nicken'd my spirits now with a smile, 

and thy fa la, la la la la la. 
The trembling of thy lips do show 
Thou hast no power to say me no, 
"Which makes me have a moneth's mind unto 

thy fa la, la la la la la. 
This hearty kisse is a sign thou wilt yeeld 

to thy fa la, la la la la la. 
The white of thy eye speaks peace in the Field, 

tvith a fa la, la la la la la. 
Then for a vaile to hide thy face, 
I 'le cloud tbee with a sweet embrace ; 
There 's many would wish they were in thy place, 

with their fa la, la la la la la. 

[Printer's name cut off ; and no duplicate known.] 

John Overall was the Dean of St. Paul's, London, whose beautiful wife is 
mentioned on our p. 663, in connection with Sir John Selby, where we quote 
Aubrey MS. 8, fol. 93. Of the four lines " two are suppressed " (vol. ii, p. 116) 
in the so-named ' Brief Lives' of John Aubrey, 2 vols., edited admirably by 
the Rev. Andrew Clark, M.A., L.L.D., Rector of Great Leighs, Chelmsford, 
author of Anthony a Wood's Life and Times, 4 vols. ; Registers of the University 
of Oxford ; Wood's History of the City of Oxford, 2 vols. ; and Lincoln College, 
Oxford, in ' College Histories' Singularly useful to preserve the text, is our 
unmutilated extract from John Aubrey's fragmentary comedy of ' The Country 
Revell,' 1671, on p. 569 ; it not being included in the Clarendon Press volumes, 
where no more than two samples and a brief analysis are given, ii, 332-9. 

" While hiding from the bailiffs in 1671 at Broad Chalk, Aubrey set himself 
to compose a comedy descriptive of country life as he had seen it, abating 
nothing of its grossness, and concealing nothing of its immorality. The rude 
draft of this comedy is found in MS. Aubrey 21, written in the blank spaces and 
between the lines of a long legal document. 

" Although few of the scenes are sketched, and fewer completed, it is possible 
to form an idea of the scope and plot of the piece. 

" The jumbling together of all classes of society in the rude merriment of 
a country wake was designed to bring out the follies and vices of them all. 
A feiv gentlemen and ladies of the old school, of courtly manners and decent 
carriage, were brought in to set out by contrast the boorishness. the insolence, 
and the mad drunken bouts of Aubrey's contemporaries. A mixed company of 
sow-gelders, carters, dairy-maids, gypsies, were to give evidence in dialogue and 
song, of the coarse talk and the vile ideas of the vulgar. And a still more 
disreputable rout of squires who had left their wives and taken up with cook- 
maids, and of heiresses who had run away with grooms, was to exemplify the 
degradation of the gentry. In several cases, over the names of his Dramatis 
Persona;, Aubrey has jotted the names or initials of the real persons whom he 
was copying." [See, for instance, in our Second Division, p. 669, where one 
' Justice Wagstaffe ' is identified as Sir John Dunstable.] 


' To be filed for Reference? 

' ' The plot was to have a double movement : on the one hand, the innocent loves 
of a boy and girl of gentle birth, living in disguise as shepherd and dairy-maid, 
the ' Lord and Lady of the Maypole,' and, on the other hand, the fortunes of an 
adulteress, pursued by her husband, following her paramour in page's attire, 
jealous of his attentions to other women, ending in murder all round. ' Raynes 
[husband] comes and invades Sir Fastidious Overween, and is slayne by him ; and 
then Sir Fastidious neglects her ; she conies and stabbes him and then herselfe.' 

" The scene, on the title-page, is laid, for a bliud, at ' Aldford in Cheshire, 
by the Dee, St. Peter's day, 1669' ; but in Act i, scene 1, Aubrey, laying 
pretence aside, places it on ' Christian M alford green ' in his own district in 
Wiltshire, near Kington St. Michael, Draycot Cerne, etc. 

" Taken as a whole, both in what is written out and in the anecdotes collected 
to be worked into the plot, the comedy affords a terrible picture of the corruption 
of Aubrey's county and times." — A. C.'s Second Appendix to John Aubrey's 
' Brief Lives,'' vol. ii, pp. 333, 334. Alas ! Byron sang prophetically, in 1818 : 

" For fear some prudish readers should grow skittish, 
I've bribed my Grandmother's Review — the British.' 1 '' — Bon Juan, i, 209. 

' Sir Fastidious,' of the new- journalism, still prowls after improprieties. Our 
woodcut of Molash, like a 'scented garden,' or rosebush in the Arcadia of 
ltoxburghe Ballads, says, ' Spiro non tibi ! ' = I breathe not for your sake, 
wallower in the stye ! but only for Students of History and of Literature. 

Like Edward FitzGerald, of Woodbridj^e, we, of our Ballad Society and of 
the Villon Society, enjoy the epicurean philosophy of Omar Khayyam in his 
' Rubai'at,' without being sensualists. Even Mcintosh Jellaludin (who wrote 
the mystic 'Book of Mother Maturin,' hermetically sealed to all, except Rudyard 
Kipling), in the darkness of the Lahore Serai, sang ' The Song of the Bower ' : 

" Say, is it day, is it dusk, in thy Bower? 

Thou whom I long for, who longest for me. 
Oh, be it light, be it nigbt, 't is Love's hour, 

Love that is fetter'd as Love that is free. 
Free Love has leaped to that iunermost chamber, 

Oh ! the last time, a jd the hundred before : 
Fetter'd Love, motionless, can but remember, 

Yet something that sigbs from him passes the door." 

In the background is Molash Church, near Ashford, Kent.] 


£>upplnmntntp &ott> 

H These few additions are not recorded in the ' Second Division Contents,' 
or in the Ballad-Index already printed at end of this Volume, p. 931. 
We give their Titles and First Lines here, instead, jor convenient reference. 

I. — How the Oxford Scholars spent their time : 
" One riding with me, on a day." 
II. — The Loyal Subject ; or, The Praiser of Sack : 

"Come, let us drink, the time invites." 
III. — Canary's Coronation : 

" From hops and grains let us purge our brains." 
IV. — Oliver Cromwell's vampt-up Peers : 

" By-walking in the Hall." (20 January, 165I. ) 
V. — The Protecting Brewer : 

" Of all the trades that ever I see." 
VI. — The Safety ; or, A Politician. By Alex. Brome : 

" Since it hath been lately enacted High-Treason." 
VII. — The Time-Server ; A Medley : 

" Room for a Gamester, that plays at all he sees." 
VIII. — Loyalty Confined. By Roger L'Estrange: 
" Beat on, proud billows ! " 
IX. — An Elegie upon the Death of King Charles I : 
" Come, come, let us mourn ! " 
X. — On the Passion : " What rends the Temple's vaile?" 
XI. — Fragments : "Whilst here on Earth our brittle bodies rest." 
XII. — ' Mens sana in corpore sano ' : 

" Though Fortune made me poor." 
XIII. — A New Danae : " Like Alexander will I reign." 
XIV. — Robin Good-Fellow: " I am the King and Prince of Pharies." 
XV and XVI. — Pyramus and Thisbe. Bis : 1672 and 1565. 
XVII. — The Dream of Un-fair Women. 
XVIII. — My Lady Greensleeves, 1565. 
XIX. — Love's Mistress; or, Nature's Rarity. 

XX. — The Maid's Comfort ; or, The Marigold : " Down in a garden." 
XXI. — The Merry Cuckold. (See p. 749.) " You married men." 
XXII. — Cupid's Power : " To cure melancholly, I travers'd the fields." 
XXIII. — Cupid's Revenge : " Now, now, you blind Boy." 
XXIV. — Kind Nancy's Constancy : "Alone as I was walking." 
XXV. — The Maiden's Dream : "As I lay musing on my bed." 
XXVI. — Sundry Epitaphs on Tom D'Urfey, 1723. 

Before the Restoration it was an excellent custom among the 
young Collegians at Oxford, and at Cambridge, to employ their 
leisure in making a Florilegium of their own choice, an Anthology 
of Stuart poetry that pleased their fancy, or had won the favour of 
their best and most learned friends. Printed books were often 
too costly for them to purchase, if not already in their College 
libraries. But every true scholar, who was a fervent admirer 
of poetry, possessed a few friends. Each one in turn lent his own 
favourite volumes of transcripts, borrowing others in requital. 
It was thus of old that Petrarch and Boccaccio gathered their 
stores, when visiting the monasteries of the learned Benedictines, 
whose libraries held transcripts of rare missals and of classical texts : 

xcii* Indebtedness to the manuscript copyists. 

that would otherwise have perished, if confined to a single 
exemplar. By mutual favours all were enriched. Not the 
worthless controversies and polemics, but the loveliest works of 
pictorial illuminators, as also of the Poet and Historian, filled 
quiet intervals betwixt the appointed hours of prayer, among 
those pious and secluded scholars, whose religion, being pure, had 
taught them gentleness and courtesy. 

It is certain that much is still to be gathered from remain, 
undestroyed but dispersed, of the so-called ' Common-place Books ' ; 
relics of men whose actions are forgotten, whose very names can 
seldom be recovered without diligent search in the University 
records. Their choice of songs and ballads is plainly discernible 
within some dark calf-bound volumes of hard yellow-toned paper, 
imperishable as vellum, and often left three-quarters blank ; too 
frequently showing idle scribblings on the flyleaf, made by some 
intruder who was incapable of understanding the contents ; also 
a few stains of weather, or shall we say of audit ale? Successive 
changes in handwriting and in the colour of the ink are there ; with 
variations, due in part to blundering carelessness, or to imperfect 
originals, but as frequently proving to be important recovery of 
the true text, which other feranscribers left in error, the printed 
volumes being hopelessly corrupted and obscure. Be it remembered, 
the best poetry circulated with freedom by means of manuscript 
copies. No Index Expurgatorius could suppress them, howsoever 
bitter and intolerant might be the persecutors. 

Much we owe to such manuscripts. Students who shall come 
after us, with access to what was hitherto hidden, will find 
abundance of treasure. There remain, unexplored, sunken galleons, 
full of ingots and precious jewels, far more worthy of search and 
study than the ephemeral tra=h of our evil-teeming modern press, 
wherewith the ominous fecundity of journalism now afflicts the 
righteous souls of men. 

At Oxford, 'home of lost causes,' even while disaffection raged outside with 
noisy declamation tending towards civil -war, and also after defeat had im- 
poverished their families, men studied peacefully, and dreamed their dreams in 
quiet rooms at Oriel, as Percivall Feerby ; or at Merton, where "Charles's 
Ladies came" to its secluded garden (long afterwards told lovingly to us in 
verse by its former Fellow, dear Andrew Lang) ; or at Lincoln College : whereof 
the history is told entraneingly by the Rector of Great Leighs, our no less dear 
friend, Dr. Andrew Clark, also formerly a Fellow. From him we learn, as the 
best summary, how Oxford supported the Royal Cause, and earned the bitter 
hatred of the Puritans and rebels. (See the excellent University of Oxford: 
College Histories : Lincoln : the publisher being F. E. Robinson, London.) 

A record transcribed at Oxford, between 1653 and 1658, is found in no other 
manuscript than one — ' Ex Libris Percivalli Feerby, e Coll. Oriel': hitherto 
imprinted. It shows the seamy side of student life. The tune was Sir Eylamore : 
The Friar in the Well {Popular Music, p. 274), as on p. lxxxix*. We prefix a title 
to the song, but never met another exemplar either in print or in manuscript. 


^oto £Drforn §)cWar0 spent tbeit time. 

[Circa 1654, after the Puritan 'Visitation.'] 

ONe ridiDge with me, on a day, Fa, la, etc. 

Askt me to tell him, by the way, Fa, la, etc. 
How Oxford Schollers spent their time ; 

And thus I told him all in rime : Fa, la, etc. 

When from our Mot[he]r's beloved home, Fa, etc. [Passim. 

"Wee to the Town of Oxford come, 

The first thing is to gett a Gown, 

The next, the best Sacke in [the] town. Fa, la, la. 

And then a Tutor we must have, 
Twenty to one if not a knave, 
"Who cares not for vs all the day, 
But will be sure att night to pray. 

This Fellow sends vnto our friends, 
To keepe our money for his own ends ; 
And there he locks it in his truncke 
"Whilst we must vpon ticke be druncke. 

"We neuer aske him for a groate, 
But wish 't were all stucke in his throate, 
Till at length, at Quarter's day, there comes 
The dunners with their bouncing summs. 

Imprimis, for an Aristotle, Fa, la, etc. 

"Which we perhaps 'pound for a bottle ; 
And Fuclid, which away did packe, 
For the better element of Sacke. 

Item, a Vossius 1 Rhetorique, raerard To., 

Bought just for such another tricke; •- 1631, 

Soe, wanting coyne for drinke, we gaue him, 
"Where all his Rhetorique could not saue him. 

Item, a Homer : poore old Poet : 
that our Tutor did but know it ! 
For the best tobacco we made him flee, 
Smoakt till we were as blind as he. 

And more Bookes, which for halted chink 
We sold again to spend in drinke ; 
For all the Authores the bill doth show, 
Subauditur Potts and Canns a row. 

xciv* JJow Oxford Scholars spent their time : 1654. 

Then reverently our Tutor speaks, 
" I wonder you will do these tricks ! " 
But after all his sermon said, 
Summa totalis must be paid. 

Thus we do spend our time away, 

And duly night and morning pray : 

"Where the coffin Chaplain for his sense isic. coughing. 

Straiues as for a sirreverence. 

Then hang all stud[y]ing, to no end ! 

At length ' the Spirit ' doth pretend : 

Then on the score we '1 run on still, 

"We may be Preachers when we will ! Fa, la, etc. 

Since this went on without open scandal during the time of the 
' Triers ' interregnum, we may guess that discipline was not very 
strict when 'the King enjoyed his own again' at the Restoration. 
But always in the busy world outside, admittedly, there was too 
much drinking. It was open and riotous among the impoverished 
Cavaliers, but stealthy among the hypocritical sham-saints and 
scowling sectaries. The ballad giving 'Praise of Sack,' beginning, 
" Come, let us drink !" was quoted on p. xlix*, named on p. l*. 

It is better to give it complete, from a genuine manuscript copy, circd 16.55. 
Unfortunately the MS. casts no light on" Isaac's Ball " (but reads " gilt-ball "). 
Perhaps Alderman Isaac Pennington is alluded to, as having invented the toy. 
Was it a shuttlecock ? An omission is in Valentia vel Valenciennes stanza. 
Of Turenne and La Ferta, we read in versions of later date but doubtful text. 

%f)t ILopal Subject; or, praise of &>acfe, 

OOme let us drinke, the time invites, Winter and cold weather, 
For to pass away long nights, and to keepe good Witts together: 
'T is better far than cards and dice, or gilt Balls, those vaine delights, 
Made up with fan and feather. 

Of great Actions on the Seas we will never be jealous : 
Give us liquor that does please, and 't will make us braver fellows 
Than the great Venetian fleet, when the Turke and they doe meete 
Within their Dardanellos. 

Sack 's the only Prince's guard, if you will but try it ; 
No design was ever hard 'mongst those that soundly ply it : 
And three Constables at most are euough to quell a host, 
That would disturb our quiet. 

Mahomet is not divine, but a senseless widgeon, 
To forbid the use of Wine, and to those of his religion 
Falling sickness was his shame, and his Tombe shall have the fame, 
For all his whispering Pigeon. 

Valentine, that famous Town, that stood the Frenchman 's wonder, 
Water it employ'd to drown, so to cut their troops in sunder. 
[Turenne gave a helplesse look, while the lofty Spaniard took r Blank 

La Ferta and his plunder.] \jn MS. 

The Loyal Subject, his Praise of Sack. xev* 

Therefore water we disclaim, Mankind's adversary ; 
Once it caused the whole world's frame in a Deluge to miscarry. 
May this enemy of Joy seek with Enias to destroy [q U . envies. 

And murder good Canary ! 

See the Squihs, and hear the Bells, this Fifth day of November ; 
The Preacher a sad story tells, and with horror doth remember 
How some dry-brain'd Traitor wrought Plots that would haue mine brought 
To King and everie member. 

But we that drinke have no such thoughts, black and void of reason ; 
"We take care to fill our vaults with good wine for every season. 
And with many a cheerful cup we blow one another up, [a.l. chirping. 

And that 's our only Treason. 

"When Cavaliers ' exceeded ' in their potations, to the waste of 
their substance, their reputation, their health, or prospect of 
recovery, there was one excuse. They had felt such scorn and 
hatred against ' the Brewer of Huntingdon ' and ' Purge-Pryde the 
Drayman,' that they resolved to entirely abjure malt liquor, and 
keep aloof "from hops and grains." These words begin a ballad : 
elsewhere it appears as "Let us purge our brains!" in the later 
and wofully corrupt Loyal Garland, whereof all the early editions 
perished. Not the brains, but hops and grains smelt of anarchy. 

Canarp'0 Coronation. 

(From early Oriel Coll. MS.) 

FRom Hopps and Grains let us purge our braines ; 
They do smell of Anarchie. 
Let us choose a king from whose blood may spring 

Such a Boyall progenie 
That it befits no true Wine-bred "Witts 

Whose braines are bright and clear, 
To tye their hands in Dray-men's bands, 

When as they may goe freer : 
Why should we droope or basely stoope 

To popular Ale or Beere? [ = of the populace. 

Who shall be King is now the thing [1657. 

For which we all are met. 
Sacke is a Prince that hath bin long since 

In the Royall order set. 
His face is spread with a warlike red, 

And so he loues to see men ; 
When he bears the sway his subjects they 

Shall be as good as free men : 
But, here is the Plot, almost forgot, 

He is too much burnt by women. [».«• ' Mulled Sack.' 


Canary's Coronation : 1657. 

By the river Rhine there 's a gallant "Wine, 

That can our veines replenish ; 
Let us bend, by consent of the government, 

To the royall rule of Rhenish. 
The German wine will warm the chine, 

And friske in every veine ; 
It will make the Bride forget to chide, [a.i. ' forbear.' 

And call the Groom to 't againe. 
Yet that 's not all : it is much too small 

To be our Soueraigne. 

Then let us thinke of a nobler drink, 

And with votes advance it high ; 
Let us then proclaim good Canary's name ; 

Heavens bless his Majestie ! 
He is a King in every thing, 

Whose nature doth renounce ill ; 
It will make him trip and nimbly skip, 

From the ceiling to the ground sill : [t. stealing. 
Especially when Poets be 

Lords of the Privy Council. [Allusion to Miltonf 

But a Vintner he shall his taster be, 

There's no [other] man can him lett; [i.e. hinder. 
A Drawer that hath a good pallat he 

Shall be Esquire of the Gimlet. 
The Barr-Boys shall be the Pages all ; 

A Tavern well prepared 
In comely sort shall be the Court, 

Where nothing shall be spared : 
Wine-Coopers shall with Souldiers tall 

Be Yeomen of the Guard. 

If a Cooper we with a red nose see, [Oliver c. 

In any place of the town, 
That Cooper shall, with his Adds Boyall, [ = exactions. 

Be Keeper of the Crown. 
Young Ladds that waste away their cash 

In wine and recreation, 
Who hate dull Beere, are welcome here, 

To bid their approbation : 
So are all you, that will allow 

Canary's Coronation. 

Note. — "Well understood would be the undercurrent of allusions, political and 
personal, to Oliver Cromwell's red nose, to his Brewer-birth at Huntingdon, to 
' the king over the water ' — as among the Jacobites a century later ; to the 
coronation of the Best, that should be real and not merely allegorical : the 
Carolian wine, long lovingly awaited : not plebeian Beer "from hops and grains." 

The Country fares ill without the Lords. xcvii* 

The Oriel College copyist who preserved the ' Elegie upon King 
Chai'les I,' with " Though Fortune made me Poore," transcribed 
' Ki Hinge noe Murder: briefly discourst in Three Questions, by 
William Allen.' (Colonel Titus claimed it later, when it was safer 
to do so than in 1656 — even the possession of a copy was perilous.) 

The latest political record, dated January 20, 1657-58, satirized 
Oliver Cromwell's futile expedient to control the perversely unruly 
4 Commons,' by the imposition of a re-furbished ' Other House.' 
He meant it to become ' the Upper House ' ; in defiance of the 
proverb that warned him, " You cannot make a Silk-purse out of 
the Soto's Ear ! " He laid on the stripes in excess of the Law of 
Moses: " Forty, save one." His tatterdemalions were ephemeral, 
and by no means Academic 'Immortals.' Their candidature was 
neither desirable nor permitted. They were publicly shunned. 
Even the second Earl of "Warwick (whose grandson, Robert Rich, 
two months earlier had married Cromwell's youngest daughter, 
Frances, and died soon) refused to sit alongside of the newly- 
translated leather, ' Lord Hewson the Cobler,' and the other 

Thirty-nine Articles. 


[SDltoer CromtoeU's toampMip IPecrs.] 

[Wednesday, 20th January, 165J.] 

BY-walking in the Hall, his Highnesse did call 
a Commission, to waite on the Peeres ; [text, 'to c 

I thrust in amonge the midst of the throng, 
to see how they lookt in their geeres. 

For had you seene but Pryde, with [Hewson] ' craft ' by his side, 
and 'the Gentle Knight' betweene, [A.Baseirigg? 

Tou had taken your Oath they had bin dray-men both, 
and he a full barrell had bin. 

The Cooper next sate, in very good State [Cf. p. xcvi*. 

to be[come] your Nation's guide ; 
But some did conclude that his name did allude 

he was an assistant to Pryde. [ ¥ Ta^ln. 

'T was admired by all how Thomas gott 's call, [Tom Scott. 

for what reason we are in the darke, 
But that neere him stood Sir Thomas Honnyioood : [Sir John ? 

by prayers they ent'red the Arlce. 

There 's none did beleive that Lenthall did grcive, [Speaker Wm. 

for 't is taken for granted by all, 
That he had ne'ere been in the Lords' house seen, 

but for this gratious call. 

Second Division, Pref. Note. U 

xcviii* Oliver Cromwell's unserviceable 'Peers.' 

For he much replyed, being Judge-qualified 

in the house of Commons to sitt ; 
Now he thinks Heauen 's won, there's nought to he done, 

but to shew St. Peter his witt. 

Brouqhall with the goute was plac'd in the route, ( Rn 9 er Boyie. 

being eminent lately in Action; (in Ireland. 

As he haulting thither came, soe his Title was lame, 

had they been but of Noble extraction. 

The Brew-house affordes [recruits for the Lords, [Blank space. 

till it steams like Hops and Gravis ; 
As tho bound to display men, Jit only for Draymen, 

icho need neither honour nor brains. ~\ [Conjectural. 

But they all lookt like clownes, to them in Velvet Gownes ; 

One acted the Lord-Keeper's part : [Nat. Mennes. 

The Lords were in their State, and the Commons in a sweat, 

whilst He did with excellent art. ['Protector.' 

'Cause his Voyce could not reach, he printed his Speech, 

and neatly stayed our quarrell ; [20 January. 

Whether he brew or noe, I 'le leave to them that know, 
but I am sure he was gay in Apparrell. 

After all this Rackette, with hands in the Pockette, 

the Commons crept backe from the Barr : 
By which, the Lords did guesse, thereby they did confesse 

they were their Inferiours farr. 

By the most I did gather, that they did rather 

to secure themselues from the Vitious ; 
Though their money was but small, they would not loose all, 

and the Lords lookt very suspitious. 

The good Surrey Knight sate with noe delight, [Sir Amb. Brown ? 

but leaned vpon the chayre ; 
It greived him that hee left his old companye [The Commons. 

for his new associates there. 


This ballad has historic value as a popular record of Oliver's abject failure, in 
an attempt to rebuild a House of Lords : of unbaked bricks, made of bad clay, 
without straw or mortar : " Somewhat to stand betwixt me and the Commons." 

Lord Eure (George, 7th Baron) sat nearly alone. Haselrigge (p. cxlix*) and 
Scott came no more. Skippon, Whitlocke, Maynard, Rouse, Whalley, and 
Oliver's brother-in-law 'Desboro ' the Clown, were there, looking like so many 
egg-stealers detected at a hen-roost. Nat. Fiennes held the Great Seal. 

- — <s>s<3eferQs?^«si-- — - 

" Thank Heaven ! we have a House of Lords." xcix* 

Phrensied talk had raged for years of ' abolishing the Peers,' 
since most of them were men of sense and reason, always certain to 
resist the threatening ' mailed fist,' that was stained with blood 
aud blackened by foul treason. Yet Cromwell, overwrought, by 
his restless faction, thought to fare better by sharp action than by 
words; so he brought his low-born ' Gang' on the skirts of Peers 
to hang, but the upstarts met no welcome from the Lords. Then 
Haslerigg and Scot raved at ' turncoat miscreant lot,' and declared 
they with the Commons would remain ; so that ' Old Nol,' to his 
cost, found two-score of good votes lost, and no set-off could be 
counted on as gain. Each expedient that he tried galled him 
farther in his pride ; since he could not bend the rebels, should he 
break? Half ashamed that he laid down all pretensions to the 
Crown, when his Ironsides forbade and would forsake. Nowhere 
could he gain content from each crippled Parliament, warped by 
spite, each one distrusting friend and brother : so, reverting to the 
thing he denounced in the late King, Cromwell vowed to rule alone, 
without another. They had lost faith in their guide, they his 
temper sorely tried ; with undaunted courage yet he faced his 
foes ; though fears lurked at the wayside, that he could no longer 
hide : was it strange that life drew swiftly to a close ? Before he 
turned to dust, came the whisper, "Can I trust one of all the 
men whose fortunes I have made ? Is there one who will obey, 
and not seek how to betray, me and mine ; as each at first the 
King betrayed ? Is my gain supreme and good, after wading on 
through blood ; without mercy treading all down, ruthless grown? 
since I cannot stand secure, or account my conscience pure, and my 
race will be, God failing! overthrown. Should I suffrages collect? 
Goodwin says, 'You are elect: and the chosen cannot sin, or fall 
away.' Once, yea once, I felt assured, my salvation was secured : 
' Then,' says he, ' you are incapable of sin ! ' What is left me at 
this day, but to watch, and fight, and pray? It is Night, the 
awful night, alone I dread ; I am evermore alone, already turned 
to stone. Will they prize me at my best, when I am dead ? " 

No such personal grief attended the passing away of Cromwell as had 
followed the atrocious murder of King Charles. There was bewilderment. 
Men wondered what next would come, now that the ' Protector ' had been taken. 
Worse might be, for many worse remained, although Ireton, Bradshaw, Pym, 
and Pryde were gone. Curiosity and speculation stirred men a little, but 
enthusiasm was dead. Nerves were unstrung ; nobody felt deeply. Plotters kept 
silence. Duellists, when they seek to learn their adversaries' play, venture no 
more than formal feints, awaiting an opening. Some already foresaw the 
Restoration of the Stuarts. 

In those last days of Oliver, when the tyranny of interference 
with popular amusements had somewhat abated, not because of 
mercy but from policv, the paralyzing of ballad publication drew 
towards an end. Hitherto lampoons had circulated stealthily. 
Written transcripts of them passed secretly from hand to hand. 

Oliver nearly touches the Crown, 165f. 

But in 1656 were ill-printed clandestinely some collections of 
Cavalier poems, songs, ballads, and political squibs or satires, 
i.e., Parnassus Biceps, Choice Drollery (condemned officially to be 
burned) ; and thrice interrupted, thrice diversely-named, Sportive 
Wit, The Muses' 1 Merriment, A New Spring of Lusty Drollery : the 
headlines marking hasty removals of the portable press to escape 
capture and confiscation. Much perished of higher merit, but 
much survived, especially ribaldry from manuscripts of earlier date. 
More bitterness was displayed later, in the half-year preceding the 
Restoration. Cromwell 'the Protecting Brewer' had scarcely been 
so hated as were ' Hewson the Cobbler,' ' scandalous Hugh Peters,' 
or the three ridiculous pretenders " Lambert, the Knave, Fleetwood, 
the Fool, and Desborough, the Country Clown." 

%fy protecting 15rttort\ 

Tune of The Blacksmith ; or, Which no body can deny. [See p. 835.] 

OF all the Trades that euer I see, 
There is none to a Brewer compared may he, 
For so many several wayes works hee : 
Which no body can deny, deny, 
No, nor no body durst deny. 

A Brewer may be a Burges grave, 
And carry his matter so fine and so brave, 
That a Brewer had better to play the knave, 
Which no body can deny, etc. 

[A Brewer may speak so learnedly well, 

And raise strange stones for to tell, 

That he may become a Colonel : Which no, etc.] 

A Brewer may sit like a Fox in a stubb, 
May preach a Lecture out of a Tubb, 
And give the wicked world a rubb. 

Me thinks I heare one say to me, 
Pray why may not a Brewer be 
Lord-Chancelloure ouer th' Universitie? 

[J. P., 1630. 


\_MS., 1657- 

A Brewer may be as bold as a Hector, 
When he has dranke a cup of old Nectar : 
Nay, a Brewer may be a Lord-Protectour. 

A Brewer may gett a Naples face, 

And march to the feild with such a grace 

[i.e. V 
a. I. '. 


e. Vesuvian 

That a Brewer may get a Generall's place. 

A Brewer may be a Parliament-man, 

For so the knauery first began ; 

And brew most cunning Plots he can. 

But here remains the strangest thing, 
How a Brewer about his Liquor should bring 
To be an Emperour, over a king : 
Which no body can deny. 

The order of succession and the text vary in printed copies after 1656. A later 
: Brewer,'' 1659, to same tune, begins, " There 's many a clinching verse is made." 


[<U. 1 his Plots.' 

What Parliament enacted to be 'High Treason,'' 1C46. ci* 

The danger of writing, and still more of publishing, such satires 
had been early recognized. John Cleveland narrowly escaped death, 
when Lesley had captured him, but was dismissed with " Let the 
fellow sell his ballads." Yet the Scotch were seldom merciful. 
Alexander Brome, in 1646, sent out his ballad called 'The Safety,' 
telling of persecution, pains and penalties. This remains in the 
Oriel Collegian's manuscript (with Dr. B. Wild's ballad of a Duel 
betwixt the two Gamecocks of Wisbech and Norfolk : proving that 
the Oriel student had a liking for sport) ; while the early ' Elegie 
on the Death of Charles I,' and L'Estrange's "Beat on, proud 
billows," attest the transcriber's loyalty. A few such ballads as 
" I dote, I dote ! but am a sot to shew it," with " Now I confess I 
am in love!" (before Merry Drollery), are also admitted, as amatory 
ditties. A transcript of the unique poem, " Though Fortune made 
me poore, I 'le not complain," proves his moral tone of breadth 
and wisdom. If the saying Noscitur a sociis be accepted for truth, 
it no less justly applies to books, since our choice of them, our 
best companions, reveals our best or our worst tendencies and 
sympathies. By what we seek we can be judged, better than by 
what chance has thrown in our path, to mislead or to help us. 

Cfie §>afetp for a politician. 

( Upon an Act for treason, made by the Rebels.) 

Since it hath lately been enacted High Treason [ = ' But so.' 

For a man to speak truth against ' Heads of the State,' 
Let euery wise man make use of his reason, 

See and heare what he can, but take heed what he prate. 
For the Proverbs do learn us, 
" He that stays from the battle sleeps in a whole skin," 
Aud " Our words are our own, if we keep tliem within." 
What fools are we, then, to a prating begin, 

Of things that do nothing concern us. [ a . to pratile. 

Let the three Kingdoms fall to one of the Prime Ones, 

My Mind is a Kingdume, and shall be to me : 
I cou'd make it appeare, if I had but the time once, 

I 'm as happy in one as My Lord is in three, [01. Cromwell. 

So 1 might but enjoy it. 
He that mounteth on high is a mark for the hate [a I. ' Fate.' 

And enuie of euery pragmaticall pate ; 
Whilst he that lyes low is safe in his estate, 

And the rich ones do scorn to annoy it. 

I am neuer the better which side gets the battle, 

The Tubb or the Crosse, it is all one to me ; 
I shall neither increase my goods nor my cattle, 
For a Beggar is a Beggar, and so I shall be, 
Unless I turn Traytor. 
Let misers take courses to hoard up their treasures, 
Whose lusts have no limits, whose minds have no measures ; 
Let me be but quiet, and take little pleasures, 
For a little sufficeth my nature. 

cii* The Time-Server : A Medley, 1656. 

I count he has no wit that is given to railing, 

And flurting at those that above him doe sit : 
"When they shall outdo him with whipping and gaoling, 
Both his purse and his person must pay for his wit. 
It were better that he were a drinking. 
If Sack were confirmed to twelve pennies a quart, [a.l. reformed. 

We 'd study for money to merchandise for 't ; 
"With a friend that is willing in mirth we would sport : 
Not a word, but we'd pay it with thinking. 

Our Petition shall be that Canary be cheaper, 

Without any Custom or cursed Excise ; 
That our wits might haue leaue to drink deeper and deeper, 
And not be controul'd till our heads be baptiz'd 
In liquor, and thus we will drench them: 
If this were but granted, who would not desire 
To adopt himself one of Apollo's own quire ? [a.l. ' dub h.' 

Then the bells they shall ring when our noses are on fire. 

And the quart-pots shall be buckets to quench them. 

[By Alexander Brome, 1646.] 

Here begins apathy or national paralysis. To this had rebellion and civil-war 
brought the laud: selfish indifference, with more of cowardice than wisdom, to 
prompt the relinquishment of politics. Drink was a bad harbour of refuge, 
instead of Patriotism or Loyalty. This ballad explains well the result of the 
harsh dominancy of faction, the tyranny, hypocrisy, and worrying encroachments 
on personal liberty during the rule of the ' Fifth-Monarchy ' Saints. 

From this growing Indifferentism — "hope deferred maketh the 
heart sick" — the descent to servile compliance were no more than 
a step, " unless I turn Traitor! " Witness this manuscript fragment : 


ri Oom for a Gamester, that plays at all he sees ! 
t Whose fickle fancy fits such times as these ; 
One that saies ' Amen ! ' to every factious prayer, 

From Sir Huy'n Peter's, pulpit to St. Peter's Chaire; 
One that doth defie the Crosier and the Crowne, 
"Who yet can bouse with Blades that carrouse, 

"While pottle-pots tumble down, derry-down. 
One who can comply with Surplice and with Cloak, [Episc. &Presb. 
But for his own ends could Independents brook, 

While Presbyterians broke Britannia's yoke. 

Five other stanzas complete the Medley in Rump Coll., i, 252; Wit and 
Drollery, 176, 1661 ; Merry Drollery, li, 10, 1661 ; and Loyal Garland, 16S6. 

" This is the way to trample without trembling, 
Since the Sycophants onely are secure ; 
Covenants and Oaths are badges of dissembling, 

'T is the Politique pulls down the Pure. 
To plunder and pray, to profess and betray, 
Are the onely ready wayes to be great ; 

Flattery will do the feat. 
' Ne're go, ne're stir ! ' have vent'red farther 
Than the greatest of our Damme's in the Town, [a.l. 'Duns.' 

From a Copper to a Crown. 

The Time-Server: A Medley, 1656. ciii* 

' ' I am in an excellent humour now to think well ; 
And I 'me in another humour now to drink well : 
Fill us up a Beer-bowl, boy, that we may drink it merrily : 
And let none other see, nor cause to understand, 
For if we do, 't is ten to one we are Trapan'd. 

" Come, fill us up a brace of quarts, 
To him whose Anagram is call'd 'True Hearts ' ; [Note. 
If all were true as I would ha' 't, 

And Britain were cured of its tumour, 
Then I should very well like my fate, 
And drink off my Wine at a freer rate, 

Without any noise or rumour : 

And then I should fix my humour. 

" But since 't is no such matter, change your hue, 
1 may cog and natter, so may you ; 
Religion is a widgeon, and reason is Treason ; 
And he that hath a loyal heart may bid the world Adieu. 

" We must be like the Scotish man, 

Who, with inteut to beat down Schism, 
Brought forth a Presbyterian, 

With cannon and a Catechism : 
.' If Beuk won't do 't, then Jockey shoot ! 

For the Kirk of Scotland doth command.' 
And what hath been, since he came in, 

1 think we have cause to understand." 

Note. — This is no anagram, but an innuendo : Stewarts are true Hearts! 
' The Time-Server ' shews a sad decline of Cavalier loyalty from the earlier song of 
' Loyalty Confined,' by Roger L 'Estrange. We quote the same Oriel manuscript. 
On p. 107 of Parnassus Biceps, 1656, it bears title of ' The Liberty and Bequiem 
of an Imprisoned Royalist' : than which a better name could not easily be found. 
But 'Zincolne ' must be wrong : like ' Bohemia ' in A Winter's Tale, it has no 
sea-coast for billows. 

iLopaltu Confined 

(' Mr. Lestrange his Ode, in prison att Lincolne.'') 

BEat on, proud billowes ! Boreas, blow ! 
Swell, curved waves, high as Jove's roof ! ["•'• cm-led. 

Your incivility doth shew 
That Innocence is tempest-proof. 
Though surely Nereus frown, my thoughts are calme; 
Then strike, Affliction, for thy wounds are balme. 

That which the world miscalls a Gaole, 
A private closet is to me ; 

Whilst a good Conscience is my bail, 

And Innocence my liberty. 
Locks, barrSj and loneliness together met [a.l.' solitude.' 

, Make me no Prisoner, but an Anchoret. 

I, whilst I wish'd to be retired, 
Into this private roome was turn'd : 

As if their wisdome had conspired 

A Salamander should be burn'd. 
Or, like those Sophists that would drown a fish, 
I am constrain'd to suffer what I wish. {"■ 'condemn'd.' 

civ* Loyalty Confined. 

These manacles upon my arme 

I as my Sweetheart's favours weare ; [«■'•«' Mistress's.' 

And then to keep my ancles warme, 

I have some Iron Shackles here : 
Contentment can not smart : Stoicks, we see, 
Make all things easy hy their apathy. 

So he that strucke at Jason's life, r-Pliny, y. H., vii, 51 ; 

Thinking to make his purpose sure, Cicero. Be N. D., iii, 28 ; 

By a malicious friendly knife L Val. Max., i, 8. 

Did only wound him to a cure. 
Malice, I see, wants wit, for what is meant 
Mischiefe, oft-times prooves favour by th' event. 

"What though I can not see my king, 
Either in 's person or his coin, 

Yet contemplation is a thing 

"Will render what I have not mine. 
My King from me what adamant can part? 
"Whom I doe weare engraven in my heart. 

My Soul's as free as is the ambient ayre, 
Although my baser part 's immured ; 

"Whilst loyal thoughts do still repayre 

T' accompany my solitude. 
Although Rebellion doe my Body bind, 
My King [alone] can captivate my mind. [US. t. 'can only.' 

These stanzas we may hold to be final ; but they precede the ' Nightingale,' being 
eighth and ninth in the nearly contemporary manuscript, which unhesitatingly 
assigns the poem to Roger T /Estrange. His later writings are inferior to this 
poem, in itself unequal and unsustained. But so was his life. He was not 
a ' strong man,' and lost his repugnance to Cromwell ; neither quitting the room 
nor ceasing to pjay the viol {cireu 1656) wheu the Protector joined a music party. 
Hence he was called ' Oliver's Fiddler.' (See vol. iv, p. 255.) 

Four stanzas of the MS. are now omitted (viz. : 6, " Here Sin, for wante of 
foode"; 7, ""When once my I'rhice," a contested stanza; 10, "Have you 
beheld the Nightingale ? " ; and 11, "I am that bird whom they combined thus 
to deprive of liberty "). These weaken the effect of the spirited beginning, as do 
"The Cynic hugs his poverty," and "I in this cabinet"; but they are found 
with sundry variations in Wit and Drollery , 1656, p. 11 ; Parnassus Biceps, 1656 ; 
The Rump, 1662; Westminster Drollery, 1671; and Percy's Reliques, 1765. 
No Garland of Cavalier Poesie is complete without it. Lovelace's ' Althea,' 
""When Love with unconfined wings hovers within my gates," is in vol. iii, 179. 

"We are the first to recover the remarkable ' Elegie on King Charles ' which 
remained for years neglected and forgotten. It must have been written soon 
after the fatal 30 of January, 164§. That memorable day became sacred, by the 
foulest crime and greatest blunder, committed on pretem-e of " a cruel necessity " 
or an offering at the shrine of Freedom. Madame Roland, a victim in 1793 
to the assassins of the Revolution that she had assisted, said in her last hour, 
" O Liberty ! how many crimes are committed in thy name ! " 

"No less true were the last words of King Charles, when bidding 
the people to enjoy "liberty and freedom, in having government" : 
adding, "It is not their having a share in the government: that is 
nothing appertaining unto them." — "I am the Martyr of the People" 


CIrgte Upon tge HDeatg of out; Dttati (boutaraigw lloio 

Etng Charles tjje a^artpr. 

COme, come, let's raourne : all you that see this day, 
Melt into showers, and weepe your selues away ! 

that each private head could yield a flood 

Of tears, whilst Britain's head streams out his blood ! 

Could wee pay what his sacred drops might claime, 

The world must needs be drowned once again. 

Hands can not write for trembling; let our eye 

Supply the quill, and shed an Elegie. 

Tongues can not speake this greife, knowe no such vent, 

Nothing but silence can be eloquent. 

Words are not here significant ; in this 

Our sighs, our groans, beare all the emphasis. 

Dread Sir ! what shall we say ? Hyperbole 

Is not a figure when it speaks of thee. 

Thy Book is our best language ; what to this [i.e. Eikon Basiiike. 

Shall e'er be added, is thy Meiasis. isic = Merdcppaa-ts. 

Thy name 's a text too hard for vs : no man 

Can write of it without thy parts and pen. 

Thy prisons, scorns, reproach, and poverty 

(Though these were thought too courteous injury), 

How could'st thou bear? thou meeker Moses, how? 

Was ever Lion bit with whelps till now, 

And did not roare? Thou England's, David, how? 

Did Shimei's tongue not move thee ? — Where 's the man ? 

Where is the kinge ? Charles is all Christian. 

Thou never wanted'st subjects ; no, when they 
Rebelled, thou madest thy passions to obey. 
Had'st thou regained thy Throne of State by power, 
Thou had'st not then bin more a conquerour : 
But thou, thyne own Soul's Monarch, art above 
Revenge and Anger : can'st thou tame thy Love ? 
How could'st thou beare the Queen's divorce ? may she 
At once thy wife and yet thy widow bee ? 
Where are tlry tender babes, once princely bred, 
Thy choicest jewels, are they sequest'red? 

Where are thy Nobles? Lo ! instead of these, 

Base savage villains, and thine enemies. 

Egyptian plague ! 't was Pharaoh's only doom, 

To see such vermin in his lodging roome. 

What guards are set? what watches do they keepe ? 

They doe not thinke thee safe though lock't in sleepe. 

Would they confine thy dreams within to dwell, 

Nor let thy fancie passe her Centiuell ? 

cvi* Elegy upon the Death of King Charles the Martyr. 

Are thy devotions dangerous, or do 

Thy prayers want a guarde ? — these faulty too ? 

Varlets, 't was only when they speake for you. 

But lo ! a charge is drawn, a day is set, 

The silent Lanibe is brought, the wolves are met. 

Law is arraigned of Treason, Peace of warr, 

And Justice stands a prisoner at the barr. 

This sceene was like the Passion Tragedie, 

His Saviour's person none can act but He. 

Behold ! what Scribes were here, what Pharisees, 

What bands of Souldiers, what false witnesses ! 

Heere was a Priest, and that a chief one, who 

Durst strike at God and his vicegerent too. 

Here Bradshaw, Pilate there, this makes them twain : 

Pilate for Feare, Bradshaw condernn'd for gain. 

Wretch ! could'st not thou be rich till Charles was dead ? 

Thou might'st have took the Crown, yet spared the head. 

Thou hast justified that Roman judge: he stood 

And wash'd in water, thou hast dipt in blood. [p. clii«. 

And where 's the slaughter house ? White- Hall must be 

(Lately his palace) now his Calvary. 

Great Charles, is this thy dying-place ? and where 

Thou vvert our King, art thou our Martyr there ? 

Thence, thence thy soul tooke flight, and there will we 
Not cease to mourn, where thou did'st cease to be. 

That Wretch had skill to sin, whose hand did know rmchnrd 

How to behead Three Kingdomes att a blow. \_Brandon. 

England hath lost the influence of her King, 

No wonder that, for backward was her spring. 

dismall day ! and yet how quickly gone : 

It must be short, our Sun went down at noon. 

And now, ye Senatours, is this the thing 

Soe oft declared ? is this your glorious King ? 

Did you by oaths your God and Country mock, 

Pretend a Crown, and yet prepare a Block ? 

Did you, that swore you 'd mount Charles higher yet, 

Intend a Scaffold for his Olivet? 

Was this ' Hail ! Master ' ? did you bow the knee 

That you might murther him with Loyaltie ? 

Alas, two deaths ! what crueltie was this ? 

The Axe design'd, you might have spared the Kisse. 

London, did'st thou thy Prince's life betray ? 
What ! could thy tables invent no other way — 
Or else, did'st thou bemoan his Crosse ? Then, ah ! 
Why would'st thou be the cursed Golgotha? 

Elegy upon the Death of King Charles the Martyr, cvii* 

Thou once had'st men, plate, arms, a Treasurie, 
To find thy King : and hast thou run too free ? 

Dull beast! thou should'st, before thy hand did fall, 

Haue had at least thy Spirits Animall. 

Did you, yee Nobles, envie Charles's Crown? 

Jove being fall'n, the punie gods must down. 

Your Rays of Honour are eclipst in night; 

The Sun is set, from whence you drew your light. 

Religion vails her selfe, and saith that she 

Is forc'd disowne such horrid Tyranny. [misw., 'to owne.' 

The Church and State doe shake, [the twain] whose fall 

For ever will be [accounted] capitall. 

But cease from tears, Charles is most blest of men, 
A God on Earth, more than a Saint in Heaven. 

Preceding the ' Elegie on King Charles the Martyr' (p. clii*), is this : — 

£)u tijt pamoxu 

WHat rends the Temple's vaile, where is day gone ? 
How can a general darknesse cloud the Sun ? 
Astrologers in vaine their skill doe trye, 
Nature must needs be sicke when God can dye. 

Cavaliers, with religious faith and fervour, loyally yielded their 
dream of love and happiness to fight in defence of monarchy. 

\_Without title, in the Manuscript.'] 

WHilst here on Earth our brittle bodies rest, 
And are at quiet, soe long are we blest 

With one terrestrial blessing ; but now this 

Is banish'd from me, 'cause of Jealousies. 

But I 'le contented rest for twice two weeks, 

And then I will expose my crimson cheeks 

Vnto the battery of some sword or gun, 

"Where I 'le be either made or else vndone. 

For 't hath bin said of old, " All men may haue, 
If they dare try, a better Life, or Grave." 

Mars, yeild assistance (Fates, decree it soe !) : 

Yeild me thy favour, and with thee I 'le goe. 

Belhna too, 't is for your Sex I venture 

To leave my parents, and thy List to enter. [Caetera dtsunt. 

These lines anticipate the aspirations of Byron, written in 1824 : 

" Tread those reviving passions down, 
Unworthy manhood ! — unto thee 
Indifferent should the smile or frown 
Of Beauty be. 

" If thou regret' st thy youth, ivhy live ? 
The land of honourable death 
Is here : up to the field, and give 
Away thv breath ! 

cviii* "Medio tutissimus ibis. 

" Seek out — less often sought than found — 
A Soldier's grave, for thee the best ; 
Then look around, and choose thy ground, 
And take thy rest." 

A poem illustrates the line — " Orandum est, ut sit mens sana in corpore sano." 
" Monstro, quod ipse tibi possis dare : semita certe 
Tranquillae per virtutem patet unica vitas." — Juv. Sat., xx, 345. 

speng gana in Corpott gano. 

(J^o title, in the Oriel College MS.) 

T Hough Fortune made me poore, I 'le not complaiue, 
For frenzie passion will procure no gaine ; 
Yet in a modest mean I 'de gladly be, 
'Twixt greazie liiches and leane Poverty. 
Meanetime my recreation is to see 
The vast Extreames of Liberality. 

One is. a sordid base frugality ; 

The other is wanton prodigality. 
Here's one content t' abide the Summer's heat 
And Winter's cold, to engrosse a great estate ; 
Who in his heavy baggs takes all his rest, 
And thinks no blessing like a full-stufft chest. 
At length the winter of his Age draws nigh, 
And he, though much against his will, must dye. 
Then enters on the Stage his golden Sonne, 
And he, not thinking what his Father wonne 
By Vsury well gotten, sports it all away, 
And never dreames to see th' approaching day 
Of want, but then, alas ! when 't is too late, 
Blames his own folly and laments his fate ; 

Whilst he that has enough to keep him free 

Lives happier far than those that richest be. 

If Fortune were my friend thus far, my life 

I 'd make more pleasant with a modest Wife : 

Whom neither riches should invite me to, 

Nor beauty tempt my wanton eye to view ; 

But one on whom Nature hath play'd her part, 

Not to adorne the face, but dresse the heart. 

A chaste and sober Wife I 'de sooner wed 

Than clasp the choicest Hellcn in my Bed. 

And 'twixt us two no discontent should raigne, 

Nor jealousies, nor causes to complaine. 

Our Children should be blessings to us, and 

Esteem'd the gifts of heaven's most bounteous hand. 

And when the Sun of our declining Age 

Drew low, noe envious clouds should then presage 

A stormie night, but we would both appeare 

As bright as at the noone, nor horrid teare 

Of death should fright us ; wee 'd leave the world as free 

As the ripe fruit that gently leaves the tree. 


Prior's advice, to "Be to her faults a little blind." cix* 

The amatory song "Like Alexander" has no title in the Oriel 
Scholar's manuscript of 1654-57. It follows 'An Epithalamium 
upon the Nuptialls and names of Mr. Edmund Tooke, Esqre., and 
his honoured Bride,' beginning : 

" Eternity and Heaven, two Royal Guests, 

Shake hands with Love, lodged in two married breasts." 

Afterwards, on St. Cecilia's Day, 1697, Dryden sang 'Alexander 
the Great, his Eeast,' telling him, like other men, to " Take the 
goods the gods provide thee ! Lovely Thais sits beside thee." 
Similarly, the antecedent song-writer's modern Alexander held 
a lovely Thais, or another of the same profession — not a " New 
Campaspe " to be yielded to an Apelles: but "A New Danae," 
since the lady is condemned for safety to be ' interned ' within 
a walled town or brazen tower. 

Mat Prior belonged to the outer world. He, like Cleopatra's fig-seller, 
having known " a very honest woman, but something given to lie, as a woman 
should not do but in the way of honesty," was wise enough to relinquish all 
attempts to "clap a padlock on her mind," or to secure the fidelity of a fickle 
sex, by any term of imprisonment. None avails, except the Blue Chamber : 
"a, la mode de son altesse Monseigneur le Baron de Retz " autrefois ' Le 
Barbe-blue.' He succeeded thus in making " good women" of them (according 
to the London Inn-sign of a vanished epoch: vide John Camden Hotten), and 
the example of J. A. Froude's brazen image, the very much married and 
wife -beheading ' Bluff King Hal,' of by no means pious memory. 

%$i /l-Uto SDanar. 

[To the Tune of, ' My clear and only Lone, 1 pray.' See vol. vi, p. 589.] 

Tike Alexander will I reigne, I rule my selfe alone, 
^ With me I 'le haue no partner sit on my Imperial Throne : 
For he, my deare, who dreads his Fate, shall nothing do worth merit, 
But like a Knight of Chambers is, and of a timorous spirit. [ = Carpet knt. 

And now, my Love, haue strict regard how thou thy selfe expose 

To euery fiery amorous youth thy [amies] about to 'close ; [_t. ' corps.' 

For thee with wall surround will I, and, saint-like, thee adore : 

If then thou let my heart out fly, I 'le neuer loue thee more : 

But doe by thee as Nero did, when he sett Rome on fire, 
Not only all relief forbid, but to some hill retire : 
If you prooue false in that inclose, thy losse I '11 still deplore, 
And yet (I know not how) rejoyce, and neuer see thee more. 

Yet if from thence thou should' st be rap't, and should to ruine fall, 

I 'de streight desert those towns that haueu't — or those that haue — a wall. 

\_Cactera desunt : next leaf cut out, probably ended thus : — 

[So keepe thou safe within thy bound, and neither sinke nor soare, 
And I will make thy Fame resound, and euer Loue thee more] 

It was an early imitation of "Never love thee more." The original poem, 
"My dear and only Love, take heed how thou thy selfe dispose," preceded the 
Marquis of Montrose's lines, "My dear and only Love, I pray" (vi, p. 589) ; 
his second stanza begins, " Like Alexander I will reign, and I will reign alone." 


"lam that merry Wanderer of the N'ujht." 

Thackeray's List (p. lxx***), No. 275 is ' Robin Goodfellow.' 

In 1878, we editorially in the introductory pages of our Bag ford Ballads, 
and in Roxburghe Ballads, vol. viii, p. lxx***, identified the title with the 
admirable song attributed by Peck to Ben Jonson. Before the middle of the 
present century, it was illustrated by the unfortunate Richard Dadd (S. C. Hall's 
Book of British Ballads, p. 87, n. d.). It is well known, and begins, " From 
Oberon in Fairy-Land, the King of ghosts and shadows there. " It was registered 
in 1615. Its title is ' The Mad Merry Pranks of Robin Good -Fellow' : reprinted 
in W. Chappell's Roxburghe Ballads,' vol. ii, p. 81, 1872. There had remained, 
hidden, unknown to the searchers, John Payne Collier or J. 0. Halliwell, safe 
within our Oriel manuscript, circa 1656, a "different ballad version of ' Robin 
Good-Fellow,' one beginning, "I [am] the King and Prince of Pharies." It 
was sung to the same tune as that of the original song (given by Joseph Ritson, 
and in Popular Music, p. 143). It is evidently an imitation of " From Oberon 
in Fairy-Land." A Bag ford exemplar of the Oberon ballad holds this woodcut of 
the tattooed or painted particoloured nondescript, borrowed from John Bulwer's 
Anthropometamoiphosis, the 1653 edition. 

John Bulwer's apocryphal Indian, self-adorned fantastically, was mistakenly 
supposed to represent ' Robin Goodfellow.' It had less to do with Puck than 
w-ith Caliban, whom drunken Stephano called ' a mooncalf.' Trinculo thought 
him ' a strange fish ! ' — " He smells like a fish ; a very ancient and fish-like 
smell; a kind of not of the newest Poor-John." Again: "This is no fish, 
but an islander." The Pict or painted Briton was his prototype, stained with 
woad ; or stencilled like the men of Borneo, " a land that culture lacks : Byacks 
are famed tattooing blacks ! " So sang Andrew Lang, he who is ' never wrang.' 
(If we said this of Collier, some small men might bellow.) The man is a seal- 
Jisher, with his harpoon : he worships the Sun and also the Moon. He daubed 
himself over with black and with yellow ; but was never truly a ' Robin Goodfelloiv .' 


[To its own Pleasant Tune of, £b, ho, ho ! or, i?o£j« Goodfellow.~] 

I Am the King and Prince of Pharies, 
Elves and Goblins, walking Sprights ; 
In darkest holes I play phegaries, 

In fields I make men lodge whole nights. 
In houses, too, mayds' workes I doe, 

When as they sleepe and little know : 
And therefore I, both farre and nigh, 
Am called ' Eobin Goodfellow.' 

I grinde their mault, I carde their wool, 

I fill their coppers fit to brew ; 
I let them make what drinke they will, 

Then I keep 't from working while 'tis new. 
'Tis all in sport, I doe noe hurt, 

In any place whereas I goe : 
And therefore I, both far and nigh, 

Am called ' Eobin Goodfellow.' 

By Lanthorne and by Candlelight 

I oft lead many out of the way, 
I whoope and I hallow in the night ; 

And I oft make men to goe astray. 
The Falk'ner's horn, I haue it in turn, 

The Huntsman's hallo I doe know : 
And when that I haue done this villany, 

I leave them, laughing "Ho, ho, ho!" 

When pritty Maydens goe to bed, 

And thinking for to take their rest, 
As heavie as a lumpe of lead 

I oft times sit vpon their breast. 
They can not speake, nor silence breake, 

Which makes them cry for very woe : 
And when that I haue done this ploy, 

I leave them, laughing " Ho, ho, ho !" 

Sometimes in shape of hog or dog, 

Sometimes in shape of hare or hound, 
I oft lead men into many a bog, 

Then I twist and trowl about them round. 
Through brake and bryer, through dirt and mire, 

I lead them whilst their leggs can goe : 
When Day draivs nigh, then aivay 1 fig, 

And leave them, laughing, " Ho, ho, ho ! " 

When pritty Ladds and Lasses meete, 

To make them sport with musique fine, 
I in their company doe them greet, 

I eate their cake and I sip their wine. 
To make them sport, I [grunt] and snort, 

Till all their candles out I blow : 
Then I clipp and I kiss ! if they aske ' who , t is ? ' 

I leave them, laughing " Ho, HO, ho ! " 


' Shrewd and knavish Sprite caWd Robin Good-fellow." 

'Robin Goodfellow' was named in the ballad of 'How the Devil 
was gulled by a Scold,' 1630 (compare Introduction, p. lxxxi***) : 

" Tom Thumb is not my subject, whom Fairies oft did aide, 
Nor that mad spirit Robin, that plagues both wife and maid." 

Robin is drawn as a horned satyr, with his burning torch, and his besom 
(" to sweep the dust behind the door " : Midsummer Night's Dream, Epilogue). 

Cut appeared circa 1558, in The Mad Merry Pranks of Robin Good-Fellow. 
It was twice copied by J. W. E. on reduced scale for these Roxburghe 
Ballads: one version in 1883, vol. iv, p. 491 ; but utterly lost, with fourteen 
other blocks {i.e., lent to Dr. A. B. Grosart, of Blackburn, for his prospectus of 
the abortive Pack Library; woodcuts retained sans ceremonie, and never restored). 
Consequently, this Puck had to be engraved anew for vol. vi, and this page. 

' Shakespeare' 's Puck, and his Folkslore,' 1 written by William Bell, Ph.D., 
1852, holds a sketch of the picture. A better copy of it had been given five 
years earlier in that excellent volume called 'A Book of Roxburghe Ballads, 
Edited by John Payne Collier, 1847,' on p. 41 (with Gotham cut on his 
p. 126). The work was admirably edited, worthy of so competent a scholar, 
F. S.A. , and genial man of the world. Eorty-eight ballads were selected from the 
Roxburghe Collection, with woodcuts. Collier's book formed our best prototype. 
The Ballad Society was not founded until twenty-one years later, with the 
promise to reprint completely all the Roxburghe Ballads: a promise now fulfilled. 

Pack. — " Aud we Fairies, that do ruune 
By the triple Hecate's teanie, 
From the presence of the Sunne, 

Following darknesse like a dreame, 
Now are frollick : not a mouse 
Shall disturbe this hallowed house : 
I am sent ivith broome before, 
To sweepe the dust behind the dore." 


[Pepys Coll., gfe ; Jersey, ri i T ; Huth, - 6 \-.] 

ppramug ant) Cljieur ; or, ilour's €pn0trt*-ptfcr + 

Behold the downfall of two Lovers Dear, 

And to their Memorys let fall a Tear ; 

A sad mistake their Ruine did procure, 

When as they thought their Friendship should endure. 
O cruel Fate ! that cut them off in prime, 
And for Enjoyment would afford no time. 

To the Tune of, Bigbifs Farewell. [1673 : see vol. vi, 39.] 

["Ad nomen Thisbes oeulos, jam raorte gravatos, 
Pyramus erexit, visaque recondidit ilia." 

Oviu: Metamorphoseon, iv, 140.] 

WHen all hearts did yeild unto Cupid as King, 
And dying for Mistresses was no strange thing ; 
"When Maids without coyness did candidly deal, 
And men lov'd with constancy, faith, and true zeal ; 
There liv'd a fair pair of true Lovers in Greece, 
"Who have still bin accounted as Love's Master-piece. 
The Youth was call'd Pyramus, Thisbe the Maid, 
Their Love was immortal, and never decay'd. 

But alass ! their affections were crost by sad Fate, 

To wit, by the fewd and immoral debate [t. ' immortal.' 

That had been fomented for many years' space 

Between both their Families, and their whole Race. 

Which made the fair couple, tho' scorch'd with Love's lire, 

Still smother their flames, and conceal their desire : 

They sigh'd still in private, and wept all alone, 

And dar'd not discover a tear or a groan. 

Second Division, Pref. Note. //'■'•' 

cxiv* Pyramus and Thisbe : Lore s Masterpiece. 

They sigh'd all the Night, and they gaz'd all the Day, 

Thus weeping and gazing and sighing away 

Their languishing Lives, which they spent all in tears, 

In sighs and in groans, and in amorous fears. 

And when the whole world was compos' d in a sleep, 

Their grief kept them waking to sigh and to weep. 

Thus wand'ring all night, to the stars they complain 

Of hardship, of Fate, of their torments and pain. 

But when they no longer those pains could endure, 
Their Love did begin for to seek out some Cure ; 
And so they appointed one night for to meet 
In some neighbouring valley, and there for to greet, 
And thence fly aw T ay to some far distant Cave, 
To love at their leasure : contented to have 

The joyes of each other, and there let Love's flame 

Burn quietly out without danger of blame. 

And so, when that Phoebus had run out his Race, 

Fair Thisbe came first into the meeting-place. 

Impatient she stood, and expected her Dear, 

She thought that each moment he staid was a year. 

Then under a Mulberry-tree down she lies, 

But scarce was lay['d] down when she presently spies 
A grim and fierce Lyon, besmear'd all with blood, 
Came wand' ring down from the neighbouring wood. 

Away run[s] the Nymph to a Cave in a fright, 
She flys, and her Mantle is lost in the flight ; 
"Which the blood [besmear'd] Lyon takes up in his pawes, 
He tears it, and then with the Raggs wipes his jawes. [ ! 

Soon after poor Pyramus came, for to find 
His long wish'd for Thisbe : but Fate prov'd unkind. 
For when divine joys he did hope for to have, 
He found but a winding-sheet, death, and cold Grave. 

FOr when that he saw his Love's mantle all tore, 
Bedew'd all with blood, and besmear'd all with gore, 
And then saw the Lyon trot over the plain, 
He falsly concluded his Thisbe was slain. 
who can express the vast torment and smart, 
The pangs and the anguish and grief of his heart ? 
He made the Woods ring with his pitiful moaues, 
The Rocks and the Mountains did eccho his groans. 

" Alass ! " (said Pyramus) " could she then find 
No help from the Gods ? are they so unkind ? 
Or else have they stole her away from our sight, 
And so rob'd the Earth to make Heaven more bright? 
O tell me, kind stars ! come and tell me but where 
My Thisbe is gone, and I 'le follow my dear. 
Two death-wounds already I bear in my breast, 
Once wounded by Love, and by grief now opprest. 


Note. — In the foreign woodcut used by It. Wolfe, in Pierce the Ploughman'' s 
Crede, 1553 (Grenville, 11,521), reproduced here, as in J. P. Collier's Book of 
Eoxb. Ballads, p. 95, in 1847, Thisbe is about to fall on the sword of the dying 
Pyramus. The cut was used also in Geoffrey Feuton's Monophxjlo, 1572. 

Py ramus and Thisbe : Love's Masterpiece. cxv* 

" T 'le weep out ray life, and I 'le sigh out my soul r 

1 'le groan for my Love till my carcase grows cold. 

Her Mantle I 'le take for my sad winding-sheet, 

In that mournful posture my Thisbe I 'le meet. 

But a languishing death comes with too much delay, 

Great grief is impatient of so long a stay. 
I 'le make greater hast[e] to my Love ! " — at which word 
The Youth stab'd himself to the heart with his Sword. 

By this time fair Thisbe was come from her Cave, 

So pale that she ris like a Ghost from its Grave : [sic. 

For when she her Pyramus dying did see, 

She look'd much more like to a carcase than he. 

You 'd have thought that the Nymph wou'd before him have dy'd, 

She fel[l] on his body, then mournfully cry'd : 

" why, my dear Pyramus, why so unkind? 

Why run you away, and leave Thisbe behind?" 

At Thisbie's sweet name the Youth lifts up his eyes, 
He looks, atid he sighs, and then shuts them and dyes : 
He gaz'd till he dy'd ; then, content with the sight, 
Away to Elizium his soul took its flight. 
And Thisbe did after it presently flye, 
She struggled and strove, and made haste for to dye, 
And such haste she made in o'retaking her dear, 
She ne're stay'd to complain, nor scarce drop a tear. 

Her tender and gentle heart soon burst with grief, 
And Death stole away her fair Soul like a thief. 
Then down her cold body she lay by her Love, 
Both pitty'd by all the kind Gods of the Grove ; 
The amorous Turtles and Nightingales sung 
Their Obsequies, and in sad notes their knell rung : 

And each loving beast of the wood left its cave, 

And came for to make the dead Lovers a grave. 

London, Printed for W. Thackeray, T. Passenger, and IF. Whilwood. 
[b.-l. Three cuts: lovers, vi, 128 ; a lion, i, 175; girl, iv, 77. Date, c. 1673.] 

^f The Robin Groodfellow manuscript (p. cxi*) sent us back to 
the ' Puck ' of 'A Midsummer Night's Dream,'' with the rehearsal by 
the " crew of patches, rude mechanicals, that work for bread upon 
Athenian stalls," of ' The most lamentable comedy and most cruel 
death of Pyramus and Thisbe.' (See p. cxvi*, as to origin.) 

Compare an early ballad on the same subject, in vol. i, p. 175, 
' Tbe Constancy of True Love : the untimely death of Two Faithful 
Lovers,' viz. Pyramus and Thisbe. It is unique, beginning, " In that 
faire fragrant month of May." (Reprinted in 1847 by J. P. Collier.) 
Theseus might have said of the ballad, as of Peter Quince's comedy, 
Moonshine and Lion being left to bury the dead: "Marry, if he 
that writ it had played Pyramus and hanged himself in Thisbe's 
garter, it would have been a fine tragedy." But one cannot find 
everything complete in this best of all possible worlds. 

cxvi* Bibliographical descent of Pyramus and Thisbe. 

Ovid's Metamorphoseon, lib. iv, tells of Pyramus and Thisbe, bow the white 
mulberry that grew beside the well or tomb of Ninus turned black with their blood. 
" Pyramus et Thisbe, juvenum pulcherrimus alter, 
Altera, quas Orieus habuit, praelata puellis, 
Contiguas tenuere domos : ubi dicitur altam 
Coctilibus rauris cinxisse Semiramis urbem. 
Notitiam, primosque gradus vicinia fecit." 

The constancy of Thisbe entitled her to be enrolled by Chaucer in his 
' Legende of Good Women,' where Thisbe fills lines 706-923. 

"At Babylon quhilom fell it thus, 

The quhiche toun the queen Stmyramus 
Did ditchen all about and walles make 
Full high of hard tyles wel y-bake," etc. 

" Of trewe men I fynde but few mo, 
In alle my bookes, saue this Pimmus, 
Aud therefore haue I spoken of him thus. 
For it is dayntie for vs men to fynde 
A man that can in loue be trewe and kynde. 

Here may ye se, quhat louere so he be, 

A woman dare and can as well as he." 

In the Stationers' Company Registers, A. fol. 92, July, 15G3, Wni. Greffetbe 
was licensed ' for pryntinge of a boke intituled Perymus and Thesbye ' [sic]. 
Probably this is the Boke of P. and T. which was printed in b. -l. for T. Hacket. 
Arthur Golding translated Ovid's Metam., lib. i-iv, in 1565. In 1578 T. P., 
probably Thomas Proctor, ' builded up ' ' A Gorgious Gallery of gallant 
Inventions, garnished and decked with diners dayntie deuises,' printed for 
Richard Jones. It holds a poem of 470 lines entitled ' The History of Pyramus 
and Thisbie, truly translated' ("In Babilon, a stately seate "), with 'The 
lamentaciun of Piramus, for the losse of his Loue Thisbie,' beginning thus : — 

" This is the day wherein my irksome life, 
And I of liuely breath, the last shall spend : 
Nor death I dread, for fled is feare, care, strife, 
Daunger and all, whereon they did depend : 
Thisbie is dead, and Pirame at his ende, 
For neuer shall reporte hereafter say 
That Pyrame lyu'de, his Lady ta'ne away." 

Dunster Gale's poem of 'Pyramus and Thisbie,' completed in 1596, treated 
the subject simultaneously with Shakespeare's Midsummer Night's Bream. 
These lines in Gale's poem tell of Pyramus, believing that Thisbe is slain : — 

" Resolv'd to die, he sought the pointed blade, 
Which erst his hand had cast into the shade : 
And see, proud Chance, fell Murther's chiefest frend, 
Had pitch t the blade right upwards on the end, 
Which being loth from murther to depart 
Stood on the hilt, point blanke against his hart : 
At which he smil'd, and checkt his fearefull hand 
That stubbornely resisted his command." Etc. 

Also circa 1596, in Shakespeare's Merchant of Venice, Act v, Jessica speaks of 
Thisbe who " Saw the Lion's shadow ere himselfe, and ranue dismayed away." 
In ' A new Sonnet of Pyramus and Thisbe,'' the rhythm is identical with that of 

" A tedious brief scene of Young Pyramus, [Mid. N.D., v. 

And his love Thisbe : very tragical mirth." 


[Trowbesh Transcript, from the unique Handefull, b.-l., 1584.] 

3 Mttto %omt of ppramti0 ana CJjtsute* 

To the [Tune of], The Bowne-right Squier. 

YOu Dames (I say) that climbe the mount of Helicon. 
Come on with me, and giue account what hath been don ; 
Come, tell the chaunce, ye Muses all, and dolefull newes, 
Which on these Louers did befall, which I accuse. 
In Babilon, not long agone, a noble Prince did dwell, 
Whose daughter bright dini'd ech one's sight, so farre she did excel. 

An other Lord of high renowne, who had a sonne, 

And dwelling there within the towne, great loue begunne : 

Pyramus this noble Knight, I tell you true : 

Who with the love of Thisbie bright did cares renue. 

It came to passe, their secrets was beknowne unto them both ; 

And then in minde they place do finde, where they their loue unclothe. 

This loue they use long tract of time, till it befell, 

At last they promised to meet at prime, by Ninus Avell : [text, 'Minus.' 

Where they might louingly imbrace, in loue's delight, 

That he might see his Thisbie 's face, and she his sight : 

In ioyful case, she approacht the place, where she her Pyramus 

Had thought to ha' view'd, but [grief J renew'd, to them most dolorous. 

Thus while she staid for Pyramus, there did proceed 
Out of the wood a Lion fierce, made Thisbie dreed : 
And as in haste she fled awaie, her mantle fine 
The Lion tare in stead of praie, till that the time 
That Pyramus proceeded thus, and see how Lion tare 
The mantle this of Thisbie his, he desperately doth fare. 

For why, he thought the lion had faire Thisbie slain ; 
And then the beast with his bright blade he slew certaine. 
Then made he mone and said : " Alas ! (0 wretched wight !) 
Now art thou in a woful case, for Thisbie bright. 
Oh Gods aboue ! my faithfull loue shall neuer faile this need : 
For this my breath by fatal death shal weaue Atropos threed. " 

Then from his sheathe he drew his blade, and to his h[e]art 

He thrust the point, and life did vade, with painfull smart. 

Then Thisbie she from cabin came, with pleasure great, 

And to the well apase she ran, there for to treat, 

And to discusse, to Pyramut, of al his former feares ; 

And when slaine she, found him truly, she shed foorth bitter teares. 

When sorrow great that she had made, she took in hand 

The bloudie Knife, to end her Life, by fat[e ill-pl]an'd. \t. ' fatal baud. 

You Ladies all, peruse and see, the faithfulnesse, 

How these two Louers did agree to die in [their] distresse : 

You Muses, waile, and do not faile, but still do you lament 

These Louers twaine, who with such paine did die so well content. 

jFmtS. I- Tomson. 

Like Piramus I sigh and grone, whom stonie wals kept from his love." 

C. Robinsou's Handefull of Pleasant Bellies, 15G5, 1581. 

cxviii* Contrasted portraits, by Shakespeare and Chaucer. 

^f The burlesque view of Py ramus and Thisbe that is taken in 
l A Midsummer Night's Dream? in 1596, is so entirely different 
from the treatment of them by Chaucer in his ' Legend of Good 
Women,' that we recall to memory how Shakespeare had elsewhere, 
in that marvellous play ' Troylus and Cressida,' designedly gone 
counter to the ideas of Chaucer. 

It appears to have been written, not for the ' bisson multitude,' but for the 
delight of a few friends and himself. (" Neuer stal'd with the Stage, neuer 
clapper-clawd with the palmes of the vulger," sic, according to the Preface in 
G. Eld's printed quarto of 1609; but this assertion is contradicted iu the other 
quarto of same date and publishers : it differs in title-page, stating that it is printed 
' As it was acted by the King's Majesties servants at the Globe.') AVe know not 
how much influence on the production had been exerted by a previous play of the 
same name. Possibly it was the one composed by Dekker and Chettle in 1599, 
according to Henslowe's Diary (unless a fraudulent entry) ; recorded in Stationers' 
Registers, 7 Feb., 160f- as 'the booke of Troilus and Cresseda, as yt is acted by 
my lord Chaniberlen's Men.' Entered to Master Robertes, ' to print when 
he hath gotten sufficient aucthority for yt.' Seeing that, in 1600, James 
Roberts printed his own less trusty edition of A Midsummer Night's bream 
(Thomas Fisher's being the better one), it is not improbable that Roberts had 
obtained surreptitiously a rough draft of Shakespeare's play, and that it was 
stayed from publication. There must have been some unexplained difficulty about 
the particular play, causing confusion at the printing-office in 162f, when it was 
suddenly interpolated betwixt the 'Histories ' and the ' Tragedies,' in the First 
Folio: leaving a token of disorganization in two wrong page-numbers (79, SO), 
and the absence thereafter of any page-number whatever, or usual signatures. 

The one certainty is this, that Shakespeare took his own bold, 
manly view of the Siege of Troy, as opposed alike to the sham 
classicism of George Chapman and the mediaeval sentimentalism of 
Chaucer's ideal Cresseide. Hector and the Trojans at last achieved 
just retrieval from Homeric humiliation; Achilles was degraded; 
and the mutual jealousies of the Greeks found exposure. 

%vai\w an& Crcggi&a. 

J REMEMBER, I remember, hoiv from Shakespeare's world of men 
That new Kifffxos of Troy's Downfall arose grandly on my ken ; 
Much I prized the Master's wondrous skill, redressing Homer's themes, 
Since the heroes lived again in song, more dazzling than our dreams. 

I remember, I remember, how with his Tthuriel spear 
lie had touched and spurned Achilles, who ivas, toad-like, squatting near ; 
Shewn him boastful, yet a dastard, a mere foil to Hector's truth ; 
Shewn the ardent Troilus, loving, ivith the fearless trust of youth. 

I remember, I remember, Chaucer's Ghost was much displeased 
At the treatment of his ' Cresseide,' and could not be appeased ; 
The pedantry of College dons took umbrage at the play, 
And there are not yet ten persons do it justice to this day. 

I remember, I remember, that, for years I hoped to find 
A fair moid to share my studies, young, and with congenial mind : 
Next century she may be born, and then we both can wait, 
Quite content if we two never meet the other g if Ud Eight. 

Chaucer 's * Legende of Good Women. , cxix* 

Shakespeare detected the innate wantonness of Cressida : 

" A woman of quick sense." — " Fie, fie upon her ! 
There 'a language in her eye, her cheek, her lip, 
Nay, her foot speaks ; her wanton spirits look out 
At every joint and motive of her body." 

Even Chaucer, who tells of her sorrows, separates her from his 
' Good Women,' as the heroine of ' Troylus and CresseideJ 
His ' Legende of Good Women ' gives these nine histories, Thisbe being second : 

1. Cleopatra (line 580) : "After the deth of Tholome \_Ptholome] the kyng." 

2. Thisbe of Babilon (begins on line 706) : "At Babiloyne whilom fell it thus." 

3. Dido, Queen of Carthage (9'24) : " Glory and honour Virgile Ma?iroa><.'" 

4. Hypsipyle and Medea (1,368) : " Thou root of false louers, Duk lason." 

5. Lucrece (1,680) : " Now mote I seyn the exilynge of kyngis." 

6. Ariadne (1,886) : luge infernal Minos of Greece kyng." 

7. Philomene (2,228) : " Thou giver of the formes that hast wrought." 

8. Phillis (2,394) : " By prof as wele as by Auctorite." 

9. Hypermnestra (2,562) : " In Greece whilom weren bretheryn two." 

Legende ends on line 2,733. (Chaucer 's Minor Poems : Chaucer Soc, 1879.) 

Unstinted ought to be the praise here and elsewhere accorded 
to the admirable parallel six- texts edition of the Chaucer Society 
(beginning, like the Ballad Society, in 1868, it languishes under 
the inadequacy of funds). No richer gifts than these parallel texts 
were ever given to scholars who love " the morning star of song" — 

" Dan Chaucer, the first warbler, whose sweet breath 
Preluded those melodious bursts that fill 
The spacious times of great Elizabeth 

With sounds that echo still." 

They are the magnificent oblong folios, containing in parallel 
columns the six-fold text of ' The Canterbury Tales' (from the MSS. 
Ellesmere, Lansdowne, Hengwrt, Corpus Coll. Oxford, Cambridge 
University, Petworth, and also the Harleian, No. 7,334). To which 
add, not only the corresponding separate texts conveniently reissued 
in 8vo., but the inestimable six-fold texts of Chaucer 's Minor Poems, 
and his ' Troylus.'' No truly great library of early English literature 
is complete without the Chaucer Society's First Series. 

In Second Series, the one blot, and weariness to the flesh, an exploit of 
impotence and verbosity, is the awful Cauchemar by Alfred J. Ellis, ou Early 
English Pronunciation, with especial reference to Chaucer and Shakespeare. 
Perusal of it can be inflicted as punishment on criminals in penal settlements. 

" He sat, indeed, at early morn, beside the fountains of the light ; 
But, blanker than a babe new-born, he look'd on day, and made it night. 
Yet this big dullard, leaden-eyed, hath paper, type, and gilding got; 
And drops, the mud-barge, down the tide, where the immortal galleys float." 

Chaucer's ' Good Women' bring to our remembrance those quite 
different articles, the ' Eemale Ramblers ' of Roxburyhe Ballads 
(pp. 641-726 hereafter following). They were not welcomed into 
the late honoured Laureate's ' Dream of Fair Women ' ; but they 
recede into one distinctly remote, our later ' Night-Mare Vision.' 


Cfre Dream of On^fatc Women. 

(In remembrance of Roxburghe Collection 'Female Ramblers,' p. 641.) 

~T READ {for 'Constant Thisbe's'' fatal lapse) 

" 2Tf)e ILegmo of ffiooti ©Komcn." T% were iVme. 
7%e Poe^ could not muster more of them, perhaps, 
Or make them well combine. 

Yet he was Chaucer : few toith him could vie 

In knowledge of each varied rank in life : 
He told of Pilgrimage in days gone by, 

With Bath's oft-married Wife. 

Folk said that Chaucer laboured to ehe out 

These stories of Good- Women, a full score ! 
It could not be. The stock ran short. Some doubt 
Whether ten lived, of yore. 

Else had he chronicled another one, 

Yet four were suicides : Love was the cause 
Of woe to all of them, till life was gone, 
Withouten any pause. 

Nothing was left to Dido but despair ; 

From Bacchus, Ariadne did not shrink 
When Theseus left her {scholiasts declare 

This means — she took to drink). 

Of Cleopatra's goodness the report 

Sent by Octavia, the deserted ivife 
Of valiant Antony, is harsh and short : 

It says, " She spoiled his life.'''' 

As to Lucrece ? loell, well, she died too late : 
Death previous to dishonour had been good, 
But to submit to outrage was vile fate : 

Stains are not cleansed in blood. 

Medea gleams more grandly than the pale 

Hypsipyle ; rash Progne casts a slur 
On th' undeceased-wife's sister, Nightingale, 
Poor Philomeu a. Whirrh ! 

Phillis none care for : there remain but two, 

The ' constant Thisbe ' and that loving bride 
Ilight Hypermnestra, who, when others slew 
Their lords, her own did hide. 

The Dream of Un-fair Women. cxxi* 

Lo ! in late years our Tennyson retraced 

The antique lines, and told toith wondrous charm 
His own Bream of tfat'r SJHomen, and embraced 
Each one with loving arm. 

Transcending praise, it thrills ; and shall keep hold 

While purest poesy finds 'worshippers. 
He who presumes to mock it must be bold, 
Profanest of vile curs. 

Yet, ah ! the Sex so tiresome has grown 

That ' Audi alteram partem ! ' need be heard : 
This one 'Dream of Fair Women ' being shewn, 
The contrast is inferred. 

E\)z £ale of WLn4m WELamzn " were too vast, 

Voluminous, unending, harroioing , sad : 
Who dare the light on that dark chapter cast, 
And not be stricken mad ? 

Not ours the hand of the iconoclast 

To smite the idol down ; to hurl the stone : 
Since she ivho tempteth first to sin, or last, 
Is rightly overthrown. 

Not her toe blame, frail victim of mail's lust, 

Crushed to submit, or, when revolting, scourged ; 
But her, the unholy breaker of sworn trust, 
By whomsoever urged. 

She takes men's homage as her due, perforce ; 

Thankless and fickle and perversely vain, 
She lures with modest smile, or gestures coarse : 
Then turns, and frowns disdain. 

Pleasure and sordid Greed her henchmen are ; 
To a Fool' 's-Paradise she guides her dupes : 
Exultant, when they perish, near or far, 
Her myriad martyred troops. 

Un-fair ! Albeit with beauteous face and form 
She rules her abject slaves, behind her mask 
That seems angelic pure and sweet and tear m, 
What is she ? Need we ask ? 

cxxii* How the Lady Greensleeves treated her Lover. 

The cruel ingratitude of 'my Ladie Greensleeves' was shewn in the 
Uandefull of Pleasant Detites, 1565. Nashe named the tune, in 1577. 

2L mto Couttlp £>onct of tge iLatip dBronsslceuca. 

To the New Tune of, Greensleeues. [See pp. 746, 837]. 

Greensleeues was all my ioy, Greensleenes was my delight, 
Greenskeues was my hart of gold, and who but my Ladie Greensleeues. 

A Las, my Loue, ye do me wrong, to cast me off discourteously ; 
And I have loued you so long, delighting in your companie. 
Greensleeues was all my ioy, Greensleeues was my delight, etc. [Passim. 

I haue been readie at your hand, to grant what euer you would craue ; 
I haue both waged life and land, your loue and good will for to haue. 

I bought thee kerchers to thy head, that were wrought fine and gallantly ; 
I kept thee both at board and bed, which cost my purse wel fauouredly. 

I bought thee petticotes of the best, the cloth so fine as fine might be ; 
I gaue thee jewels for thy chest, and all this cost I spent on thee. 

Thy Smock of silk, both faire and white, with gold embrodered gorgeously, 
Thy peticote of Sendall right ; and thus I bought thee gladly. [thin silk. 

Thy girdle [was] of gold so red, with pearles bedecked sumptuously, 
The like no other lasses had : and yet thou wouid'st not loue me ! 

Thy purse, and eke thy gay guilt kniues, thy pincase gallant to the eie, 
No better wore the Burgesse wiues : and yet thou wouid'st not loue me. 

Thy crimson Stockings all of silk, with golde all wrought aboue the knee, 
Thy pumps as white as was the milk : and yet thou wouid'st not loue me. 

Thy Gown was of the grassie green, thy sleeves of Satten hanging by : 
Which made thee be our haruest Queen : and yet thou wouid'st not loue me. 

Thy Garters fringed with the golde, and siluer aglets hanging by, 

Which made thee blithe for to beholde : and yet thou wouid'st not loue me. 

My gayest Gelding I thee gaue, to ride where euer liked thee ; 
No Ladie euer was so braue : and yet thou wouid'st not loue me. 

My men were clothed all in green, and they did euer wait on thee : 
All this was gallant to be seen : and yet thou wouid'st not loue me. 

They set thee up, they tooke thee downe, they serued thee with humilitie ; 
Thy foote might not once touch the grouud : and yet thou wouid'st not loue me. 

For euerie morning, when thou rose, I sent thee dainties orderly, 

To cheare thy stomack from all woes : and yet thou wouid'st not loue me. 

Thou could' st desire no earthly thing, but still thou had'st it readily ; 
Thy musicke still to play and sing : and yet thou wouid'st not loue me. 

And tvho did pay for all this genre, that thou did'st spend when pleased thee ? 
Even I that am rejected here, and thou disdainest to loue me. 

Well, I will pray to God on hie that thou my constancie mai'st see ; 
And that yet once before I die, thou wilt vouchsafe to loue me. 

Greensleeues, now farewel, adue ! God I pray to prosper thee : 
For I am still thy louer true ; come once againe and loue me. 

Greensleeues was all my ioy, Greensleeues was my delight, 
Greensleeues was my hart oj gold, and who but my Ladie Greensleeues ! 


' The Lover's Complaint for Chloral cxxiii* 

II The tune of Tell me, ye wandering sjnrits of the air (music by Henry Lawes, 
in Select Ayres, 1659), was mentioned on p. lvi'*** of our General Introduction. 
One broadside of the ballad bears Sam Sheppard's initials {of. Introd., p. civ*** ; 
and pp. xlvii*, cxlviii*, of this Pre/. Note: also pp. 678, 861) . 

Kobe's ffiisixezst; or, Nature's ftaritg. 

fPEll me, ye wand' ring Spirits of the Air, 
J. Did you e'er see a Nymph more bright, more faire, 
Than Beauty's darling, and her parts more sweet? 
Then feel content, if such a one you meet. 
Wait on her early, wheresoe'er she flies, 
And cry, and cry, i Amy?itas for her absence dyes.' 

But stay a while, I have inform'd you ill ; 

Were she on earth she had been with me still. 

Fly, fly to heaven, examine every sphere, 

And see what star is lately fixed there ; 
If any brighter than the sun you see, 
Fall down, fall down and worship : that is she ! 

S[amuel] S[heppard]. 

Also on p. lvi*** was briefly mentioned a curious and unique broadside ballad, 
contemporary, sung to the same tune. A. S., author of the words, told no 
more than two-thirds of the truth, in his signature. Title, argument, and two 
stanzas (first and last), probably suffice, instead of the twelve, for reference. 

Cfie flgtournfuU £>5cp!)ccDr00e of 3rcaotag [sic] ; or, 

2Wje solitary sollttuoes of tlje jjHatri)Iesse Sljepljerocssc : 

Whose earthly joy did shine with luster bright, 
But now 's eclips'd and turn'd to dismall night. 

The Tune is, Tell me, you wand'ring Sjnrits, etc. 

" * Ssist me, Muses, with your power divine, 
l\ To protract out the sable plaints of mine, 
Melpominy direct my warbling quill, 
Descending down from High Parnassus hill, 

And sing in queers [ = choirs] a heavenly harmony, 
Whilst I, whilst 1, for want of Clora, die." 

[This is a sequel of S. S.'s song. Here is the final stanza of the second part.] 

" Oh ! that my date were out, my time were near, 
That I might meet him whom I love so dear, 
In high Olimpus heaven's celestial throne 
(A place prepar'd for blessed Saints alone). 

The world is sin, and naughty [grown] beside : 
that, that my death had been when Clora died." 

By A. S. [Sic. Caetera desitnl.] 

Printed for Fran. Grove on Snow-hill. [Black-letter, circd 1656.] 

To the composer of the music, his friend Lawes, Milton wrote a sonnet : 

" Harry, whose tuneful and well-measured song 
First taught our English music how to span 
Words with just note and accent," etc. 


Whence 'Fair Ophelia'' gathered her flowers. 

" The Hunt is up, the Hunt is up, and now it is almost day ! 
He that is wooing another man's wife, 't is time to hasten away." 

II Note added to the ' New Sonet,'' p. cxvii*. 

It is absolutely certain that Shakespeare knew Clement Robinson's 
Handefull of Pleasant Deities, 1584. (See Bagford Bds.,^.42, 1876.) 

It is quoted in his ' Hamlet,'' when Ophelia distributes flowers. The Handeful 
has "A Nosegaie lacking flowers fresh to you now I do send," with these lines : — 

" Lauender is for louers true, which euermore he faine : " 

" Rosemarie is for remembrance between vs daye and night." 

" Fenel is for flatterers, an euil thing it is sure " 

" Violet is for faitbfulnesse, which in me shall abide." 

" Marigolds is for marriage." (Compare pp. 749 and cxxix*.) 

This explains the impulse of Ophelia to bestow fennel on the flatterer Claudius, 
husband of Queen Gertrude : while sane, Ophelia had concealed her abhorrence. 

Ophelia. — " There 's Rosemary, that's for remembrance: pray -you, love, 
remember : and there is Tansies, that's for thoughts. There 's Fennel for you, 
and Columbines: there 's Rue for you .... There 's a Daisy : I would give 
you some Violets, but they withered all when my father died." — Hamlet, iv, 6. 

Legendary Ballads, few genuine, many fraudulent. cxxv* 

We have shewn in our General Introduction to the First Division 
of Vol. VIII that many so-called ' Scottish Traditional Ballads,' 
presumably antique, were fraudulent. ThusR. S. Hawker, vicar of 
Morwenstowe, Cornwall, imposed his forgery "And shall Trelawney 
die?" on Lord Macaulay. Many similar falsehoods have escaped 
detection. True words were written by Andrew Lang in 1890 : — 

"Concerning another ballad in the 'Minstrelsy' — ' Auld Maitland ' — 
Professor Child has expressed a suspicion which most readers feel. What Scott 
told Ellis about it (Autumn, 1802) was, that he got it in the [Ettrick] Forest, 
' copied down from the recitation of an old shepherd by a country farmer.' 
Who was the farmer ? Will Laidlaw had employed James Hogg, as shepherd. 
Hogg's mother chanted ' Auld Maitland.' Hogg first met Scott in the Summer 
of 1801. The Shepherd had already seen the first volume of the Minstrelsy. 
[Doubtful : it can have been only partially in sheets at that date. — Ed.] 
Did he, thereupon, write ' Auld Maitland,' teach his mother it, and induce 
Laidlaw to take it down from her recitation ? The old lady said she got it from 
Andrew Moir, who had it ' frae auld Baby Mettlin, who was said to have been 
another nor a gude ane.' But we have Hogg's own statement that ' aiblins ma 
gran'-mither was an unco leear,' and this quality may have been hereditary. 
On the other side, Hogg could hardly have held his tongue about the forgery, 
if forgery it was, when he wrote his 'Domestic Manners and Private Life of Sir 
Walter Scott ' (1834). The whole investigation is a little depressing, and makes 
one very shy of unauthenticated Ballads." — Old Friends, pp. 20-1, 205. 

Wm. E. Aytoun doubted that 'Auld Maitland ' was genuine : see his Ballads of 
Scotland, ii, 2, 3, 1858. We firmly believe it to be fraudulent. 

Compare what was written editorially in 1883 (vol. iv, p. 48G) on the 
inaccuracy of modern editions of Legendary Ballads of England and Scotland. 
One voluminous and costly work in five vols., 4to., surpasses all others in its 
wholesale and indiscriminate acceptance of the most worthless forgeries and 
frauds. Similarly, the African magician beguiled the Princess Badroulbadour, 
wife of Aladdin, to surrender the true text, ' La Lampe merveilleuse ' of 
M. Galland's translation: "Qui veut changer de veilles lampespour des neuves ?" 
Old lamps, like old wine, old books, and old friends, were better than the new. 

"Year after year the inaccurate and adulterated texts of Legendary Ballads 
of England and Scotland are reissued, with little of editorial care, but they give 
at best an illusory picture of a vague, indeterminate Past. Exquisite are some 
of them, considered as romantic poetry, but they cannot bear the test of 
antiquarian search, as genuine records of events. Our Bag ford Ballads and 
Roxburghe Ballads, making small claim to poetic inspiration, are truthful in 
revealing many types of actual people, for the most part belonging to the lowlier 
classes, elsewhere neglected, with young citizens and maidens of the middle ranks. 
The history of the English people is bound up in them. They are the only 
detailed newspapers of the time, and uo amount of pains will be too great to 
expend in reproducing them all, if it be possible, with the utmost exactitude." 
— Ballad Society's Roxburghe Ballads, vol. iv, p. 487, 1883. 

Among our Roxburghe Ballads, 1,800 reprinted entire, very few are without 
value as furnishing portraiture of the Stuart times. Fewer still, if any, were 
irredeemable, either in their intent or lantjuag-e, that fell to the later editor. 
None were totally inadmissible. Let it be remembered that these costly volumes, 
like ' The Drolleries of the Restoration, ,' and the excellent translations from the 
Arabic by John Payne, printed by Messrs. Austin & Sons for the Villon Society, 
were not intended for modest Newnham : not even for Girton, or for clubs of 
self-styled women-writers, who, holding 'advanced' opinions, walk backwards. 

Unsexed women are the worst possible guides to young girls and to men. 

cxxvi* "She gazed upon a world she scarcely Jcnew."-D. Juan. 

No one can revere the modest purity of maidenhood more than ourselves. Their 
virginal sweetness and innocence deserve our love and homage. Girls ought to 
be guarded from the knowledge of wickedness and sin. Their angels are twain : 
" Faith, on whose breast the Loves repose, 
Whose chain of flowers no force can sever, 
And Modesty, who, when she goes, is gone for ever." 

Thus had Walter Savage Landor confirmed a warning in Seneca's Agamemnon : 
" Periere mores, jus, decus, pietas, fides, 
Et, qui redire, cum per it, nescit, Pudor / " 

But all books are not left open to girls. Mrs. Aph'ra Behn's novels and 
comedies appear tame in comparison with modern English impurities of drama 
or fiction, suitable alone for the demi-monde and its admirers ; not for les jeunes 
Jilles d'Angleterre. Scanty is the literary diet of their mothers, who cannot be 
allowed to read what their daughters devour 'at the club.' To them we say, 
with the Doctor in Macbeth, Act v : " Go to, go to ; you have known what you 
should not.' ' Like the ' Gentlemen- Rankers ' in the Army, they have gone wrong : 

" We have done with Hope and Honour, we are lost to Love and Truth, 
We are dropping down the ladder rung by rung, 
And the measure of our torment is the measure of our youth : 
God help us, for we knew the worst too young ! " 

With Marius Duchamp, in his chanson, ' Le Fruit De/endu,' we perfectly agree : 

" Sexe charmant, que j'honore et que j'aime, 
Permettez-moi d'ici vous mettre en jeu : 
Observez-vous, tachez dans le careme, 
N'avoir jamais l'oubli des lois de Dieu." 

Of Aph'ra Behn's charming songs we have written plainly on p. 8-56. In her 
" Damon, if you'd have me true," she sings thus, with amorous warmth : — 

" A Lover true, a Maid sincere, are to be prized as things divine ; 
'T is Justice makes the blessing dear, Justice of Love without design : 
A nd she that reigns not in a heart alone 
Is never safe or easy on her throne." 

Restoration literature was admittedly outspoken, but Cavaliers remained true 
at heart, whatever Court fashions might prevail. 

We quit Charles the Second ' without prejudice,' a man more sinned against 
than sinning. Vive le Roi ! Each age has had its own liberal share of follies 
and vices; but the dull vulgar brutality of the Eighteenth Century reached 
a degradation of the lower type. The very "morality" was deadly. It was 
a stagnant cesspool. Hogarth shews men of England grovelling in sordid vices, 
proud of their own littleness. Our national character had become debased. 
The first thrill of the French Revolution, in 1/89, awakened the slumbering 
conscience. Since that time our song-writers and the people have cherished 
higher aspirations — Coleridge, Wordsworth, Scott, Byron, Shelley, Landor, and 
Keats, on to ' Festus ' Bailey, Swinburne, D. G. Rossetti, Browning, Matthew 
Arnold, and Tennyson in the century that has followed. Honour be to them ! 

We cannot afford to forget the events of two hundred and sixty years ago. 
The Great Civil War of the Stuarts remains, for good or for ill, the best lesson 
of history. Thereby we learned what rebellious Puritans are, at their worst. 
* Evil beasts, slow bellies,' ' as certain of their own Poets,' Milton, had said of them ; 

" License they mean when they cry ' Liberty ! ' " 

Let loyal Cavaliers be true to their Oak-leaves of Twenty-ninth of May. 
And let them study the wholesome warnings of the Roxburghe Ballads. They 
were, except a few earlier, strictly contemporary with the Stuart rule in England. 

Rien n'est sacre pour un Sapeur ! 


\_Cuts belong to '■The Maid'' s Comfort ' and 'Merry Cuckold ' on pp. cxxix*, cxxxii*.] 

We abate a grievance recorded on p. 749, by restoring "W. C.'s 
two cancelled Roxlurghe Ballads. At tbem in 1872 a narrow- 
minded Pen. and Or. skipper (our emblematic Piggiwiggy, p. xc*) 
had sniffed and grunted disapprobation. He accounted ominous any 
summons to " Looke Out !" (p. cxxiv*). He was always scenting 
impurity, and whatever he touched or read became thereby defiled. 

In 1866, the author of Atalanta in Calydon wrote thus : — 

' ' I have never lusted after the praise of reviewers ; I have never feared their 
abuse ; hut I would fain know why the vultures should gather here of all places : 
what congenial carrion they smell, who can discern such (it is alleged) in any 
rose-bed." — Notes on Poems and Reviews, 1866, p. 7. He quotes the warning — 

" J'en pre"viens les meres des families, 

Ce que j'ecris n'est pas pour les petites filles 
Dont on coupe le pain en tartines ; mes vers 
Sont des vers de jeune homme." 

He had met with harsh treatment from hireling critics, whom Tennyson scorned, 
and upbraided roundly in his Hendecasyllabic ' Experiments,'' 1860 : 

" you chorus of indolent reviewers ! 
Irresponsible, indolent reviewers ! " 

The cheap -journalistic critic is the Sapper of Literature, who respects nothing : 

" Malgre qu' nous soyons en careme, 
Eien n'est sacre, rien n'est sacre pour un Sapeur ! " 

cxxviii* "A man may he too confident." — Merry Wives, ii, l. 

Students of early literature abhor expurgated editions, and flout the 
squeamish prudery that, while it admitted both ' Cuckold's Haven ' 
(vol. i, 151) and 'The Cuckoo of the Times' (vol. iii, p. 511), would 
have excluded ' A Merry Cuckold ' (see p. cxxxii*), or any allusions 
to ' The Bull's Feather ' (for which return to vol. iii, pp. 418, 682) : 

" Sent to all merry cuckolds who think it no scorn 
To wear the Bull's Feather though made of a Horn." 

Shakespeare's Comedies hold many jests about these cornuted men: " Master 
Dombledon hath the horn of Abundance." Thus, in Much Adn, Act v, scene 1 : 
" But when shall we set the savage bull's horns on the sensible Benedick's 
head?" He himself declares, "there is no staff more reverend than one 
tipped with horn." In the Forest of Arden the huntsmen sang, defiantly : — 
" Take thou no scorn to wear the horn, 
It was a crest ere thou wast born : 
Thy fathers' father wore it ; and thy father bore it : 
The horn, the horn, the lusty horn, 
Is not a thing- to laugh to scorn." 

Amid the springtide freshness of Love's Labour's Lost, " "When daisies pied, 
and violets blue, and lady-smocks all silver white, And Cuckoo-buds of yellow hue, 
do paint the meadows with delight," we learn that 
" The Cuckoo then, on every tree, 
Mocks married men, for thus sings he, 
Cuckoo, Cuckoo, ' Cuckoo ! ' word of fear ! 
Unpleasing to a married ear." 

Andrew Borde's Merle Tales of the Mad Men of Gotam {sic) told how 
distasteful the bird was unto them, who feared to hear the truth spoken aloud. 
So one of the Gothamites tried to build a hedge, high enough to enclose it, but 
the Cuckoo flew away prematurely. Their interchange of compliments is brief. 
(See p. cxlv*, the woodcut mentioned on p. 747 of ' Additional Notes.' ) 

Similarly distasteful to the cry of " Cuckoo " were sly hints that the husband 
need study the Horn- Book. The irate termagant, false to her marriage-vows, 
wields either the ferula (cf. p. 737), or a wooden ladle, as in the ' Merry Cuckold ' 
(p. cxxxi*). Watch a lady driving, sawing the mouth of her unhappy steed, 
incessantly slashing with her whip: thus learn what awaits a henpecked husband. 


[Roxburghe Collection, I, 242; unique. Displaced from vol. ii, 115.] 

%%t #ato'g Comfort; ®x, 

5Tf)e ifchrtjc punn; Jfflan, fcurjo, as mang rjaue sat'tf, 
Stncct comfort tiiti gt'clrj to a comfortlesse iftflairj. 

To a Pleasant New Tune. 

DOwne in a Garden sits my dearest Loue, 
Her skin more white th[a]n is the Downe of Swan ; 
More tender-hearted th[a]n the Turtle Doue, [text, 'then.' 

And farre more kinde th[a]n is the Pellkan. 

I courted her ; she, blushing, rose and said, 
' ' Why was I borne to Hue and dye a Maid ? ' ' 

" If that be all your griefe, my Sweet," said I, 

" I soone shall ease you of your care and paine, 
Yeelding a meane to cure your miserie 

That you no mure shall cause haue to complaine : 
Then be content, Sweeting," to her I said : 
" Be rul'd by me, thou shalt not dye a Maid. 

" A Medicine for thy griefe I can procure, 

Then wayle no more (my Sweet), in discontent; 
My loue to thee for euer shall endure, 

I 'le giue no cause whereby thou should'st repent 
The Match we make ; for I will constant proue 
To thee, my Sweeting and my dearest Loue. 

Compare Corrigenda, p. clxxx*. On p. 749 of Additional Notes, in the present 
volume, is reprinted the foundation poem of ' The Marigold,' ante 1651. 

Second Division, Puef. Note. »'* 

cxxx* The Maid's Comfort : The Marigold. 

" Then sigh no more, but wipe thy wat'ry eyes ; 
Be not perplext, my Honey, at the heart : 
Thy beautie doth my heart and thoughts surprise, 
Then yeeld me loue, to end my burning smart. 

Shriuke not from me, my bonny Loue," I said, 
" For I haue vow'd thou shalt not dye a Maid. 

" Pitty it were, so faire a one as you, 

Adonrd with Nature's chiefe»t Ornaments, 

Should languish thus in paine ; I tell you true, 

Yeeldiug in loue, all danger still preuents : 

Then seeme not coy, nor, Loue, be not afraid, 
But yeeld to me : thou shalt not dye a Maid. 

" Yeeld me some comfort, Sweeting, I entreat, 
For I am now tormented at the heart ; 
My affection 's pure, my loue to thee is great, 

Which makes me thus my thoughts to thee impart : 
I loue thee deare, and shall doe euermore ; 
pitty me ! for loue I now implore." 

For her I pluckt a pretty Marigold, 

Whose leaues shut vp euen with the Euening Sunne, 
Saying : " Sweet-heart, looke now and doe behold 
A pretty Kiddle here in 't to be showne : 

This Leafe shut in, euen like a Cloyst'red Nuune, 
Yet will it open when it feels the Sunne." 

" What meane you by this Eiddle, Sir?" she said ; 

" I pray expound it." Then he thus began : 
" Women were made for Men, and Men for Maids." 
With that she chang'd her colour, and lookt wan. 
" Since you this Riddle to me so well haue told, 
Be you my Sunne, 1 'le be your Marigold." 

QCfje Stconti Part, To the same Tune. 

IGaue consent, and thereto did agree 
To sport with her within that louely Bower ; 
1 pleased her, and she likewise pleas'd mee — 
Joue found such pleasures in a golden Shower. [With Danae. 

Our Sports being ended, then she, blushing, said, 
" I huiie my wish, for now 1 am no Maid. 

But, Sir" (quoth she), " from me you must not part, 

Your companie so well I doe affect; 
My loue you haue, now you haue won my heart, 
Your louing selfe for euer I respect : 

Then goe not from me, gentle Sir" (quoth she), 
" 'T is death to part, my gentle Loue, from thee. 

The kindnesse you, good Sir, to me haue showne, 

Shall neuer be forgot, whiles Life remaiues : 
Grant me thy loue, and I will be thine owne ; 
Yeeld her reliefe, that now for loue complaines. 
leaue me not, to languish in despaire, 
But stay with me, to ease my heart of care. 

Broadside- Ballad version of ' The Marigold.' 


" Your Marigold for euer I will be ; 

Be you my Sunne : 'tis all I doe desire. 
Your heating bearaes yeeld comfort Ainto me, 
My loue to you is fervent and entire : 

Let yours, good Sir, I pray, be so to me, 
For I hold you my chiefe felicitie. 

" Content within your companie I finde ; 

Yeeld me some comfort, gentle Sir, I pray, 
To ease my griefe and my tormented minde : 
My loue is firme, and neuer shall decay. 

So constant still (my Sweet), I 'le prove to you, 
Loyall iu thoughts, my loue shall still be true." 

" Content thy selfe " (quoth he), " my onely Deare, 
In loue to thee I will remaine as pure 
As Turtle to her Mate : to thee I sweare 
My constant loue for euer shall endure : 

Then weep no more, sweet comfort I 'le thee yeeld. 
Thy beauteous Face my heart with loue hath fill'd."- 

Comfort she found, and straight was made a Wife ; 

It was the onely thing she did desire : 
And she enioyes a Man loues her as life, 
And will doe euer, till his date expire. 

And this for truth, report hath to me told, 

He is her Sunne and she his Marigold. JiniS. 

Printed by the Assignes of Thomas Symcocke. 

[b.-l. Three cuts : two are on p. cxxvii* ; 3rd on p. cxxix*. Date, circd 1651.] 




lu J ' 

jf \ \\x 


1 1 && W^A 



[Belongs to the 'Merry Cuckold' on next page. Cf. p. cxxviii*.] 


[Roxburghe Coll., II, 256 ; unique. Displaced from R. Bds., vol. ii, p. 143*.] 

dje flperrp Cuckold : 

W&ljo froltcnltj taking totjat crjance ootf) befall, 
£0 berg todl pleaseto totth, SffiSife, ^orrteg, arrtj all. 

To the Tune [its own] of, The Merry Cuckold. 

YOu Married -men, whom Fate hath assign'd 
To marry with them that are much too kind, 
Learn as I do to beare with your wiues : 
All you that doe so, shall Hue merry lives. 

I haue a Wife, so wanton and free, [text, ' so free.' 

That she, as her life, loues one besides me. 
"What if she doe ? I care not a pin ; 
Abroad I will goe, when my riuall comes in. 

I can be merry, and drinke away cave 
"With Claret and Sherry, and delicate fare. 
My Wife has a Trade that will maintain me : 
What though it be said that a Cuckold I be ! 

While she at home is taking her pleasure, 

Abroad I do rome, consuming her treasure: 

Of all that she gets, I share a good share ; 

She payes all my debts, then for what should I care ? 

She keepes me braue, and gallant in cloathing ; 
All things I haue, I do want for nothing 1 . 
Therefore I conniue and winke at her faults, 
And daily I striue against jealous assaults. 

While for small gaines my neighbours worke hard, 
I line (by her meanes) and neuer regard 
The troubles and cares that belong to this life ; 
1 spend what few dares : gramercy, good Wife ! 

Should I be jealous, as other men are, 
My breath, like to bellowes, the tire of care 
Would blow and augment: therefore I thinke it best 
To be well content, though I wear Vulcan's crest. 

Many a time vpbraided I am : 

Some say I must dine at the Bull or the Ram me ; 

Those that do jeere cannot do as I mav, 

In Wine, Ale, and Beere, spend a Noble a day. [gold, 6*. Sd. 

2Trjc Srconti ^)art: to the same Tune. 

By experience, rightly do know 
9 That no strife or variances (causes of woe) 


Can make a wife so [ill] bent to Hue chast[e] : 

Th[en] instead of strife let Patience be plac't. [text, ' thou 

If a man had all [of] A>gns his eyes, 

A wife that is bad will something deuise 

To gull him to 's face : then what boo[t]es mistrust Vt. 

The homes to disgrace, though weare it I must, L? 


" To know what he is, and be what he is /"—All's Well, cxxxiii* 

I 'le be content with tins my hard chance, 

And in merryment my head I 'le aduance, 

Wishing 1 were but as rich as some men 

Whose wiues chast[e] appeare, yet they '1 kisse now and then. 

One try[al] to me a great comfort is, [t. 'trying.' 

Still quiet is she, though I do amisse : 

She dares do no other, because she knowes well 

That gently I smoother what most men would tell. 

If I should raue, her minde would not alter ; 

Her swing she will haue, 'though 't be in a halter : 

Then, sith that I get good gaines by her vice [sith = since. 

1 will not her let, but take share of the price. [let= hinder. 

Why should I vexe and pine in dispaire ? 
I knowe that her sexe are all brittle ware ; 
And he that gets one who constant abides, 
Obtaines that which none, or but few, haue besides. 

Yet will I not [goe t'] accuse my wife, 
For nothing is got by railing but strife ; 
I act mine owne sence, intending no wrong : 
No Cuckold nor Queene will care for this song. 

But a merry Wife that 's honest, I know it, 

As deare as her life, will sure loue the Poet : 

And he that's no Cuckold, in Countrey or City, 

Howeuer, if lucke hold, will buy this our Ditty. JllttS. 

Printed by the Assignes of Thomas Symcocke [circa 1642-52]. 

[Black-letter. Three woodcuts : first, on p. cxxxi*, a shrew basting her husband 
with a ladle ; his hat on the ground. For the 2nd and 3rd cuts, see p. cxxvii*.] 

Into a clearer atmosphere than that breathed by such a sordid knave as ' The 
Merry Cuckold,' we are lifted by reading King Arthur's rebuke of Guinevere : — 

" I hold that man the worst of public foes 
Who, either for his own or children's sake, 
To save his blood from scandal, lets the wife 
Whom he knows false, abide and rule the house : . . . 
She, like a new disease, unknown to men, 
Creeps, no precaution used, among the crowd." \Cf. p. 696. 

The Round-head wittols were mocked, but tolerated in London, as they were 
at Asolo in the Trevisan, where ' Pippa Passes' near "Old Luca Gaddi's, that 
owns the silk-mills here : he dozes by the hour, wakes up, sighs deeply, says 
he should like to be Prince Metternich, and then [Luca J dozes again, after 
having bidden young Sebald the foreigner set his wife Ottiina to playing draughts. 
Never molest such a household : they mean well." 

Murder sometimes 'intervenes,' instead of a Queen's Proctor : at Asolo, as it 
did at Faversham in 1551 (see p. 48 and Frontispiece to vol, viii). 

H ' The Merry Cuckold ' is, among our Dramatis Personae, a subordinate goblin 
in the closing Harlequinade : fitted to dwell in the dreary cavern of a world- 
turned-upside-down. He disappears from the grand Transformation -scene of 
optimistic Fairy-land, ' The Glittering Plain.' Compare the woodcut of Cupid 
and Hyde Park, vol. vi, p. 496 ; with a prophetic foresight of the 1851 Crystal 
Palace in the background, where the gibbous moon looks dark above the 
' Glittering Plain.' It might suit the ' Cupid's Power,' that follows on p. cxxxiv*. 


[Trowbesli Transcript of unique Jersey Collection, 3I-5.] 

CupitTg potocr. 

Lovers, forbear to grieve, be no more sad, 
Here is sucb News will make your hearts right glad : 
Rouze up yourselves, take courage and be bold, 
Look, here is Cupid's Powek for to be sold ! 

And now a fig for Cupid and his Dart ! 

Without his Power he cannot wound thy Heart. 

To the Tune of, Dick and Nan ; or, [Now] the Tyrant. [See pp. 678, 679. 
Same tune as The maids a washing themselves, pp. 549, 650.] 

rpO cure Melancholly I travers'd the fields, 
1 To please my sud fancy with such as it yields ; 
Early one morning, before Phoebus did rise, 
With his radiant beams to adorn the clear skies. 

The morning was fair, the birds sweetly did sing, 
The meddows were circled with a silver spring, 
And the stately green trees, by Boreas' cool blast, 
Did delight me with musick till I them [ha]d pass'd. [t. 'did pass.' 

At the end of those trees there was a large Plain, 
Whose colour 't were pity one foot it should stain; 
Its bright streams were as clear as Crystal can be : 
With joy I was ravish' d this sight for to see. 

I stood and admir'd, but durst not go in, 
For to tread in that Plain I thought it a sin ; 
Yet being desirous the whole place to see, 
In haste I did get me up [into a Tree.] [Turn ojff. 

No sooner I was up, but I looked round, 
Of harmonious Melody 1 heard the sound ; 
And strait this green, lovely, and inchanted Plain 
Was fill'd with abundance of fire and flame. 

The sight made me tremble, I quiver'd and shak't, 
My bones it did shatter, and my heart it ak't ; 
In the Plain 1 did see thousands come tripping 
After a naked Boy bowing and skipping. 

His eyes they were blinded, his hair 't was like gold, 
His person 't was lovely ; in 's hands he did hold 
A fine curved Bow — 't was most curiously done — 
And a Quiver of Arrows, like an Archer's son. 

His attendance was many, and richly attir'd 
With Crowns and with Sceptres, at which I admir'd : 
Kings, Princes, and Ladies came bowing and weeping, 
With dolelul sighs and groans they fell a greeting. 

Clje Second Part To the same Tune. 

HE smil'd at them all, but regarded them not, 
Though all (I perceived) was wounded and shot; 
But then he withdrew, and left them a space : 
Then this Boy of fire the green Plain did trace, 

Cupid* s Power. 


And came to the end, where I was in the Tree, 
It made me sore troubled lest he should me see ; 
Then I did begin for to fret and to rave, 
Fearing to become this little Boy's slave. 

But such Divine Power did rule over me, 
This little blind Rascal he did not me see ; 
So when he was come to the place where I was, 
His Quiver and Bow he laid down on the grass. 

And being delighted to hear his own praise, 
His melodious voice [he] most sweetly did raise : 
Quoth he : " I 'm little Cupid, the Great God of Love, 
A Terror to all men, my Power brings above. [text, 'beings.' 

" Vulcan my father's a Blacksmith by trade, 
Like Venus my mother no Beauty was made ; 
They compos' d me of fire and beauty together, 
And richly they 've arm'd me with a Bow and Quiver. 

" With my father's heat, that is fiery hot, 
At VenusAike Beauty my Arrows be shot; 
At all sorts of persons I do bend my Bow, 
And w r hilest they be flying mine Arrows do glow. 

" This rare gallant Train that my person attend, 
Are those that but lately my Power did offend, 

[They] call['d] me an idle and a sawcy lad ; [«. 'And call.' 

For which they are wounded, and almost stark mad. 

" Diana so chaste, that doth scorn to have Mate, 
"Whose Court 's strongly guarded, and barr'd is the Gate, 
Yet the Nymphs that wait on her be prickt at the breast, 
The Surgeon 's a young man that must give them rest. 

" The Ginger-bread Lady, that treads upon eggs, 
And cannot tell where nor how to set her leggs, 
'T would comfort the cockles of her heart if she can 
But be tumbled and kist by her Serving-man. 

" The cold frozen Virgin I set all on fire, 
And my Golden Darts doth kindle desire ; 
For she that did hate to hear of my name 
Now begs at my Shrine to pity her flame. 

" The rare Scholars of liars (brave Souldiers, so stout 
That often they 've conquered their Foes by a Rout), 
Whose courage undaunted looks death in the face, 
My invincible Power doth captive that race. [t. ' plane.' 

" The whole world is my Court, there 's no people free, 
From the Prince to the beggar all 's subject to me : 
What though I 'm a Lad that [am] childish and small, 
Yet I — little Cupid — do conquer them all ! " Jill IS. 

London: Printed for Charles Tyus at the Three Bibles on London-Bridge, 1664. 

[Black-letter. First woodcut (compare one on p. 935) shews two Ladies 
each with her own plumed-hatted Cavalier standing beside her, under trees, 
and shot at by Cupid, who flies overhead. Second cut is of an aged Pilgrim.] 

Cf. Guy de 
'Joseph ' : 
"0 Andree!" 


[Jersey Collection, II, 173=Lindes., 895; Huth, 1, 61.] 

CupitTs Ecticnge. 

The Captive Lover once got free did triumph in his liberty, 

But storming Cupid's mighty power he did his freedom soon devour. 

Tune, Now, now the Fight 's done [see vol. iv, p. 243]. 

NOw, now, you blind Boy, I you clearly deny, 
With your Arts and your Darts that you often let fly, 
For my Heart is mine own, and so shall be sure, 
Since your wounds (Lovers say) will admit of no cure : 
But a fig for your Bow ! I your tricks now despise, 
And 1 mind not the charms of the fair Ladies' eyes. 

Those Doaters I hate who are won by a smile, 

While the Heart nothing means but such Fools to beguile ; 

And when a hand-kiss can such influence have, 

Then the Lady she thinks Cupid's power is brave. 

Thus men, ere they think on 't, are caught in a snare, 
But of these idle follies I 'le still bave a care. 

But in time that is past I was subject to Love, 
And a smile from my dear like a heaven did prove ; 
While the pains of a frown, to me known too well, 
Did seem like the torments of bottomless Hell'. 

But since from these dangers I 'me happy and free, 
I think there 's no man can be more bless'd than me. 

When in bed I lay [lonely] for want of my dear, 
My heart was oppressed with sorrow and fear 
Least another should lock my dear Love in his arms, 
Whose eyes did appear like continual charms. 
But now I disdain what I once did admire, 
For my reason hath quenched the blinking boye's fire. 

And now in my freedom so happy I am 
That I pitty the man that is touch'd with the flame; 
For whilest I was under his Fetters and Chains 
1 ne'r could be free from the worst of all pains : 

But the more I did fawn, she the more did me slight, 
Till at last I did bid my fair Lady good night. 

Cupid's Revenge. cxxxvii* 

And at peace I was long, till a great sudden change 

Possessed my mind, which to me seemed strange ; 

And I fell in a great and a sudden Relapse, 

Which was worser by half than the twenty-first Claps : 
For twenty fair Ladies I courted before 
Ne'r made me so much for to cringe and adore. 

But see how the Roy did perplex me still sore, 
For saying I would not his power adore. 
Again 1 was catch'd by the glance of an eye, 
And punish'd, because I did Cupid defie. 

So all in a moment my joyes they did fly, 

And I, doteing wretch, left in Captivity. 

My fetters are stronger than I can endure, 

And too late, Oh ! too late, I do wish for a cure. 

'T is but just with the Boy me thus to afflict, 

Since his power and lawes I did once contradict : 
And I now become subject unto him again, 
\\ hich adds to my sorrow, encreaseth my pain. 

Then never despise nor contemn that great Power, 

Who can in a moment your freedom devour ; 

And wrap you in chains, never more to be free, 

But left in the confines of Captivity. 

For now to my sorrow 1 find and do know 

There is strength in his Quiver and power in his Bow. 

Now had I ten millions of Guinies to give 

I 'de part with them all, at my freedom to live ; 

But I find 't is in vain such things for to wish, 

Since his Traps do appear like a net to a Fish, 
Who, once being taken, shall never get free, 
And so I, poor wretch, find it will be with me. 

Oh ! Cupid, forbear me, for whilst I do live 
I will to thy power great attributes give, 
And after this time will account them unwise 
Who are [grown] too foolhardy, and Cupid despise. 

No mortal is able my paines to endure, 

But either must dye or soon look for a cure. 

And now 't is too late I would fain thee implore, {text, 'feign.' 

Who once never thought thee again to adore ; 

But too soon I was caught, and too late I lament, 

Disowning thy Power, for which I Repent : 

But in these dying words, as I stretch forth my arms, 
I nothing acknowledge like Cupid's strong charms. 

Printed for F. Cole, T. Vere, J. Wright, J. Clark, W. Thackeray, T. Passenger. 

[Black-letter. Two cuts : 1st, circular picture of Cupid running, p. cxxxvi*, but 
not the captive ; 2nd, on p. 176 of vol. vii. Date, circa 1673.] 

* # * This ballad, from the Trowbesh Transcripts, is a fitting pendant to ' Cupid's 
Power,' and was mentioned on p. 254 of our vol. vi, in connection with ' The Kind 
Virgin's Complaint,' printed on the verso of ' Cupid's Revenge.' Old ballads tell 
the anguish of love more often than its joy. Cupid is the tormentor, but Venus 
heals the wounds that he inflicts. Not always, for some wounds never close. 

' Cupid's Conquest,' on p. clvii*, completes this Group. 

cxxxviii* The Pleasure and Torment of Love. 

" Plaisir d'amour ne dure qu'un moment : 
Chagrin d'amour dure toute la vie. 
J'ai tout quitte pour l'ingrate Sylvie : 
Elle me fuit, et prend un autre amant. 
Plaisir d'amour ne dure qu'un moment : 
Chagrin d 'amour dure toute la vie." 

— Florian. 

"We have found no broadside duplicate of Pepys Coll. 'Nelly's Constancy,' 
which may he unique (reprinted in Roxb. Ballads, vol. vi, p. 791), but it was 
repeated in ' The broken-hearted Lover's Garland, containing Five new Songs,' 
formerly in possession of John Matthew Gutch, F.S A. (see p. 539) ; the 
woodcut being a rude copy of one given on p. 4-53. Variations in fifth stanza : 
" Still I am, and for ever must be kind" ; "And so I '11 bid false men adieu." 
This ends it, omitting the other seven stanzas. ' The Seaman's Answer : to the 
same tune' follows: three stanzas, our first, second, and fourth, of the Jersey 
Collection, 4-3, " Fair Maid, you say you loved me well" (our vol. vi, p. 792). 

In Gutch's ' Constant Nancy's Garland,'' is a ditty that should accompany our 
ballads of maids who followed their lovers to sea (compare p. lxxx*). Of Nancy 
the woodcut is found in Roxburyhe Ballads, vol. vii, p. 206. 

&in& Nancy'% Constancy tO btl CrUC^ILOtoC George. 

A Lone as I was walking, down by yon River side. 
So early in the morning, young Nancy I espied, 
Beneath a shady Mirtle [she] was sitting all alone, 
Lamenting for her Georye, and thus she sung her song : 

" Georye, he hath left me in sorrow for to grieve, 
Because my Father 's cruel, and sent him to the Sea. 

" But cursed be the hand that is to my Love unkind, 
For now I am resolved my df ar love Georye to find : 
I '11 cross the raging Ocean, with courage stout and bold, 
Like any valiant Sailor, which n'er can be controul'd. 
So boldly I will venture my dear Georye to find, 
Because that he is always a-running in my mind." 

Thus wounded with sorrow she sung her mournful song : 
" cruel was my Father to do me so much wrong, 
To send my dearest Jewel, whom I adored, away, 
For I have ne'r been easy since that unhappy day. 

But now my Father's cruelty no more I will mind, 

For fully 1 'm resolved my Jewel for to find. 

" On board then I will hie, and from Port to Port I '11 go, 
And ask all the bold Sailors, if that my Dear they know ; 
From English shore to Flanders, and from France unto Spain, 
1 '11 cross the raging Ocean to bring him back again, 
And thus I '11 spend my days in ranging all about, 
Until the happy time come that I shall find him out." 

On board then she did go, with courage [uncontrol'd], 
Alldrest in Man's attire like a brave Sailor bold ; 
She agreed with the Captain for the voyage, as we find, 
With them to go to Flanders, for there they were design'd 
To sail then the next day, without any more delay, 
[For she fear'd her cruel Father would try to make her stay]. lLost. 

Kind Nancy's Constancy to her true-love George, cxxxix* 

The wind still blowing fair, they hoist up their Sail, 

then to sea they went with a fair and flowing Gale ; 
But far they had not gone from off the English shore, 
Before the wind did blow, and billows they did roar : 

Which made all the poor Sailors to tremble and to quake, 
Because that their Main-top-mast chanced for to break. 

But this Lady in Disguise prov'd so couragious and so bold, 
That bravely she did venture their Ship to Wind to hold. 
She said, " My Boys, be not daunted, but be of courage bold ; 
If that our other Rigging and Main-mast do but hold, 

I '11 warrant you in time we shall cross the raging Seas ; 

And when these Storms are over, then we '11 take our ease." 

She stood then at the Helm, and she steer'd her course so well 
That all the other Sailors in skill she did excel ; 
She handed and she reefed their Fore -top-sail so high, 
" now be of good chear ! " to the Captain she did cry : 

And she brought him safe to Flanders in short time, as we mind, 
Where she had the good fortune her true-love George to find. 

She flew then to his arms, and gave him a loving Kiss, 
And said, " My dearest Jewel, don't take it now amiss, 
It i* I, thy loving Nancy, for whom thou was sent away, 
Which has caused me much sorrow and pain to this day. 
But now I '11 bid adieu to all my grief and pain, 
For now I shall be happy with my Jewel once again." 

He look'd like one amaz'd, when he did her behold, 
To see her in Disguise like a brave Sailor bold : 
He said, " Is this my Nancy, for whom I wander here. 

1 doubt you do but jeer me, I greatly now do fear." 

" Oh no ! my dearest Jewel," young Nancy then reply'd, 
" It 's I, thy dearest Nancy, that crost the Ocean wide. 

" Over the raging Sea I ventured for thy Sake, 
Upon the foaming billows, where my poor heart did ake ; 
Sometimes as high as mountains, then below again, 
Which greatly did encrease my sorrow, grief, and pain: 

But blest be the kind Heavens that set me safe on Shore, 
And Providence that brought me to him whom I adore." 

Good lack ! what joy there was betwixt this loving Pair ; 
Young George he leap'd for Joy to see his Nancy there. 
He said, " My dearest Jewel, now we will married be, 
And then return to England thy Father for to see." 

then this loving Couple was married out of hand, 
And then returned home with Joy to fair England. 

Then to her Father's Hall this loving Couple went, 
Where he receiv'd them both with joy and great content, 
And he gave to her a Portion, as now I have been told, 
One hundred thousand Pound in bright shining Gold ; 

And now young George he will no more cross the raging seas, 
But stay with his dear Nancy at home and take his ease. 

Licensed According to Order. [1745.] 

When a rich father forbade the marriage of his daughter and heiress, he could 
betray the lover into the hands of a Press-gang and ship him off to the sea. 

cxl* The Royal Wanderer, Charles the Second. 

Similarly, as on p. 131, a son's mother used brutal treachery, to avert any 
misalliance. The adventure seldom ended so happily as with ' Constant Nancy.' 

In the same * Constant Nancy's Garland ' [circa 1745, for it contains a version of 
Adam Skirving's " Cope sent a challenge from Dunbar " : tune of Fly to the hills 
in the mommy), duplicated in Gutch's Gat lands, vol. i, is the following ballad. 
(The original short poem, of same title, circa 1639, is on p. cxli*.) 

Cge £paiDnf0 SDrcam. 

" 4 S I lay musing on my bed, all in my great Prosperity, 
f\ Nothing but my poor maidenhead all night to keep me company, 
There did I dream of Golden Treasure, which did to me delightsume seem : 
Youny men, believe me, oh ! how it yriev'd me, 

When I found it to be a Dream. 

" The Marriage-day appointed was, in which I was for to be wed. 
Long look'd for now is come at last, Farewell unto my maiden bed ! 
My maidenhead no more shall grieve me, Marriage doth delightsume seem ; 
Youny men, believe me, oh ! how it bereav'd me, 

When I found it to be a Dream. 

" Then after Marriage my Joys were crown'd, my heart was lifted up with Pride, 
To see the ch earful Bowl go round, 'Heie 's a Health to the lively Bride ! ' 
I wish'd the tedious Day was over, the Night wou'd more delightsome seem : 
Youny nun, believe me, oh ! how it grieved me, 

When I found it to be a Dream. 

" Then after Dinner they did me convey into a large and spacious Hall, 

Where Musick did most sweetly play, and I my self for the tune might call. 
I wish'd the tedious Day were over, the Night would more delightsome seem : 
Youny men, bilieve me, oh ! how it griev'd me, 

When I found it to be a Dream. 

" Then after Supper they did me convey into a spacious Bed so soon ; 

One word being whisper'd in my ear, my friends they all forsook the room. 
Then in his eager arms He caught me, thinking the joys of Love to keep : 
Youny men, believe me, oh ! how it griev'd me. 

When I waked out of my Sleep. 

" then what Pleasures we enjoyed, when in his arms I lay so sweet ; 

1 thought our joys would never have cloyed: until I waked out of my sleep. 
I wish my Dream had lasted longer, then it would more delightsome seem : 
Youny men, believe me, oh ! how it grieves me ; 

Although I tell it, I blush for shame .'" 

It sounds like a faint echo of the long earlier ' Bar'ra Faustus'' Dream'' : 
compare p. 596. Winged seeds float down the wind from a doomed flower. 
After the sun has set, still lingers the Zodiacal Light. 

One solitary exemplar preserves another ballad celebrating the ' Escapes of 
Charles II,' beyond those reprinted or mentioned in our Restoration Group : 
' The Royal Wanderer ; or, God's Providence evidently manifested in the most 
mysterious Deliverance of the Divine Majesty of Charles the Second, King 
of (jreat-Brittain. Though bold Rebellion for a time look brave, Man shall 
not stay what God resolves to have.' Tune, The Wand'riny Prince of Troy, 
or, When Troy Town. Printed for F. Grove, on Snow-hill. It begins : 

" When ravishing Rebellion reign'd, when Loyalty was led inchain'd, 
The Royal Princes of the Blood by Traitors are not understood." 

Unscrupulous Piracy of Ballad-Publishers. cxli* 

'The Dainty Damsel's Dream,' by Laurence Price, beginning, "As I lay in 
my lonely bed," was reprinted in vol. vii, p. 102. There was a close relationship 
with "As she lay sleeping in her bed" and with " As I lay musing in my bed," 
the modern version. Of still earlier date, " written in Oxford many years ago," 
before the .Restoration, appeared the original poem, previously mentioned. 

^fie fljj)aftmi'0 SDrcmn. 

{Written in Oxford, circa 1639 : the probable original of ballad.) 

S Lumbering as I lay one night in my bed, 
No creature with me but my maidenhead, 
And lying all alone as Maidens use, 
Methoughts I dream'd, as Maids can hardly chuse ; 
And in my dream methoughts 't was too much wrong 
That I, a pretty maid, should lye alone so long. 
With that came in a Gallant, for they can do 
Much with [some] old ones, and with young ones too. 

Methoughts he woo'd, he sued, to taste : he sped : 

Methoughts we married were, and went to bed : 

Then he got up, and straight for fear I quak'd, 

1 trembling lay, and presently awak'd. 

It would have vexed a Saint, how my heart did burn, 

To be so near, and miss so good a turn ! 

cruel dreams, why did you so deceive me ? 

To shew me heaven, and then in hell to leave me. 

Tn the competition of rival publishers in Sluart days it was habitual to 
lengthen a popular song ' with a favourite Playhouse tune ' into an extended 
broadside version, by additional stanzas. Often there were two or three distinct 
prolongations (for examples, see vol. iv, pp. 447-453; vi, pp. 178-181). 

On p. 304 of vol. vii, we reprinted Tom D'Urfey's song of ' Pretty Kate of 
Edinburgh,' which was ' A Scotch Song, sung to the King at Windsor,' 
probably in 1682-3. Rrooksby's broadside, in the Roxburghe Collection, II, 253, 
doubles the original length by adding three extra stanzas. Differing from these, 
but not more authoritatively, five stanzas are added to D'Urfey's own three, in 
The Affable Husband's Garland. Gutch's Twenty Garlands, one in duplicate, 
another imperfect, fetched £7 10s. at the sale of his library, March, 1858; 
afterwards purchased for £12 18*. &d. (now the Rev. S. Baring-Gould's : Trowbesh 
Garlands, quarto transcripts, B. xx, No. 1). Here are the five additional stanzas : 

Stanza IV of ' SSonnp Kate of dBoinburgf).' 

" Willy now lies in his I ove's arms, and all his former griefs are gone ; 
Cupid doth him free from harms, and says he needs make no more moan. 
Now Kate feels Love spring from above, and still doth move, 

With kissing, kissing, kissing, and embracing too : 
Now Wdly lies, with endless joys, with bonny Kate of Edinburgh. 


" Willy now surfeits with delights, and Kate is greatly pleased in mind ; 
She sighs when Willy's out of sight, because he proves to her so kind. 
In every vein a trickling pain doth still remain, 

With sighing, sighing, sighing, and lamenting too. 
Willy did cry, ' Then must I die for bonny Kate of Edinburgh.'' 

cxlii* D'Urfey' s 'Kate of Edinburgh ' in Garland version. 


" Willy needs would be a billing, as true Lovers use to do ; 
Kate she did seem as willing, and began for to come too : 
While ev'ry smile did her Fear beguile, she him did still [pursue], 

With smiling, smiling, smiling, the bonniest Lad she e'er did view. 
Whilst Willy did cry, passionately, ' .None like my Kate of Edinburgh.'' 


" Kate his features was admiring, while Willy pleas'd his wond'ring eye ; 
More and more was she desiring his delicious company : 
And then she said, ' Love hath betray'd a harmless Maid, 
Whom loving, loving, loving may perhaps undoe.' 
But Willy reply'd, and often cry'd, ' None like my Kate of Edinburgh.' 


" Now Nuptial Rites perform'd must be, to finish both their lasting joys ; 
And he desir'd, as well as she, for to be blest with girls and boys. 
By joint consent to Church they went, but what was meant 

By kissing, kissing, kissing, I must leave to you : 
But Willy's blest, that's nowpossest of pretty Kate of Edinburgh." 

Few men in his own day (born 1653, died on 26 February, 1723, buried at 
St. James's Church, Piccadilly) equalled Tom D'Urfey in popularity as a song- 
writer, and even as a playwright he was prosperous, his numerous comedies 
delighting the town from 1676 to 1696. Among his friends and composers were 
Henry Purcell, Thomas Farmer, and Dr. John Blow. Except Tom Brown and 
Jeremy Collier (see p. 849), malicious libellers both, he had scarcely a foe. In 
his cheerful old age Joseph Addison commended him warmly — " Our British 
swan will sing to the last" — and Sir Richard Steele did good service for him 
in The Guardian, Nos. 67 and 82, calling him " my old friend Mr. D'Urfey." 
His portrait adorns the first vol. of the Pills to purge Melancholy, 1719 edition, 
with £. Gouge's lines below : — 

" Whilst D'Urfey' s voice his verse doth raise, 
When If Urfey sings his tunefull lays, 
Give D'Urfey's Lyrick Muse the bayes." 

They did give them to him, but not the wreath accorded to the official Laureate. 

Some boon -companion had suggested the following lines for the black marble 
memorial tablet at St. James's Church, near his old home. They were not 
engraved on his tomb, but printed in Miscellaneous Poems, i, 6, 1726, as the 

3£pftaptj on Earn E'iKtfcg, 1723. 

HEre lyes the Lyrick, who, with tale and song, 
Did life to three-score years and ten prolong : 
His Tale was pleasant, and his Song was sweet, 
His heart was cheerful — but his thirst was great. 

Grieve, Reader, grieve, that he too soon grown old, 
His song has ended, and his tale is told. 

Many regretted him with keener feelings of grief, for his tender and constant 
friendship was never alloyed with bitterness or irreverence. Even the young 
witlings of St. James's Coffee-house paid respect to his presence and to his 
memory. They kuew well that he neither spoiled sport nor acted as a kill-joy, 
so they drank an affectionate ' silent bumper, in remembrance of Tom D'Urfey.' 

"His Tale was pleasant, and his Song teas sweet." cxliii* 

"Richard Steele praised him, and cold stately ' Atticus ' ; [ = Addison. 
' Old Rowley ' leaned on Tom's shoulder, our King ! 
D' Urfey mock'd all the noisy fanatic fuss : 
Plot-bigots moved him to jest and to sing." 

Dictionary of National Biography, vol. xvi, 254. 

(Obiit 1723. — " Si monumentum requiris, circumspice ! " at St. James's.) 

~\T/ r Here shall he rest, he who held many claims his ? 
'' Long he found favour , in four Courts at least. 
Best let him slumber in hot/our'd St. James's; 
Three-score-and-ten were enough for Life's feast. 

No need to wander thence : Town suited D'Urfey, 

Happy and welcome amid the gay crowd ; 
Country lanes chilVd him, their graves damp and turfy : 

Let him hear footsteps and voices loud. 

So shall he sleep, with the music above him, 

Chorus may reach him of songs to his praise 
[Mingled with anthems), from friends who still love him ; 

Soon the last Trumpet shall sound to upraise. 

— Trowbesh. 

Thus had D'Urfey wished them to think of him, a few yards distant, but tbe 
curtain had for ever closed betwixt him and ' The Mahogany Tree ' where they 
continued to hold their revel, until in turn the guests arose and followed him. 

" Here let us sport, Boys, as we sit : 
Laughter and wit flashing so free. 
Life is but short — when we are gone, 
Let them sing on, round the old Tree. 
Evenings we knew, happy as this ; 
Faces we miss, pleasant to see : 
Kind hearts and true, gentle and just, 
' Peace to your dust ! ' we sing round the Tree." 

" Into the Silent Land," each day, One by one, friends are beckoned away. 
We in our Ballad Society remember how fast the circle narrows. " Who next 
goes home ? " Some one answers from Boston : " Alas ! brave R. Roberts." 

" T A Vie est vaine : un peu d'amonr, 

Un peu de haine : et puis— bonjour ! 

" La Vie est breve : un peu d'espoir, 
Un peu de reve : et puis — bonsoir ! " 

Happily paraphrased by George du Maurier, in the most deliciously fascinating 
of romances, his ' Trilby ' of 1894, never to be forgotten : it forms the Epilogue, 

" A Little work, a little play, 
Xi To keep us going — and so, good-day ! 

" A little warmth, a little light 

Of Love's bestowing — and so, good-night ! 

" A little fun to match the sorrow 

Of each day's growing — and so, good-morrow ! 

" A little trust that when we die 
We reap our sowing ! And so — good-bye ! " 


3 Requiem. 

" Quern putamus perisse, praemissus est." — Seneca. 

~yT7~lTH muffled drum and arms reversed 
' ' We bore the warrior to his grave, 
A Nation mourns the Hero hearsed : 
Befitting tribute to the brave. 

But thou art mutely laid to rest, 

Who ivert as gallant and as true, 
Faithful and loving as the best 

Of all the men we ever knew. 

Fierce to withstand each brutal, foe, 

Yet gentle to the weak and young, 
Welcomed, beloved by high and low, 
Thy Requiem should be boldly sung. 

For all the virtues of thy race 

And all of ours in thee did shine 
(Few men such honest praise can grace 

As their own due : not theirs, but thine) : 

Who never palter' d with the truth, 

Who never shrank with recreant fear, 
But kept unstained thy life, from youth 

To honoured age : from birth to bier. 

No graven stone records thy fame, 

No throng of mourners tell their woe ; 
Deep in our heart we shrine thy name : 

The Friend, whom ive tvere proud to know. 

DURING the long retarded progress of this work, which, being 
now concluded, numbers Eighteen Hundred entire Ballads and 
Songs, there have passed away from earth many Subscribers and 
dear personal friends, whose companionship and warm approval 
had cheered the Editor iu his task. Few remain to see the final 
pages, but, the great Libraries on the C mtinent, and in the United 
States of America (p. 932), also the Public Free Libraries in Great 
Britain and in her Colonies, are welcoming and enshrining the 
work, that London Libraries neglected. (To all our friends and 
helpers we give thanks.) The Roxburghe Ballads are unrivalled 
elsewhere in bulk and in importance, a record of three hundred 
years of social life and popular literature — the literature of the 
common people, of the middle and lower class. They are in safety. 
„ <Sie l)eren tiid)t bie folgi-nten ©elauge, 
• 5)ie ©eclen, betun id) bie evften fang ; 
Sevftoben iff ba$ frambtidie ©ebrange, 
23eifliuigen ad) ! bet erfte 2IUeberflaug." 

— Goethe. 
In partial compensation for the tardy progress made in printing 
the final sheets has been our acquisition of fresh materials. On 
p. xlvii* were quoted two stanzas of the following ballad: — 


[Thomason Collection, single sheet, folio, p.m. 669, f. 17, No. 12.] 

Cfie parliament Komto; or, ^rre'0 a i$oim to lie Htu 

I hope that England, after many Jarres, 
Shall be at Peace and give no way to Warres : 
O Lord ! protect the General, that he 
May be the Agent of our Unitie. 

Tune of, Lucina [vol. iii, 47, 323]; or, Merrily and Cherrily [ef. p. clx*]. 

CHeare up, kind Country-men, be not dismay'd, 
true newes I can tell ye concerning the Nation, 
Hot Spirits are quenched, the Tempest is layd 

(and now we may hope for a good Reformation). 
The Parliament bold and the Counsell of State 

doe wish them beyond Sea, or else at Yirginie ; 
For now all their Orders are quite out of date, 

Twelce Parliament-men shall be sold for a pen\ji\y. 

Full twelve yeares and more these Rooks they have sat, 

to gull and to cozen all true-hearted People : 
Our Gold and our Silver has made them so fat 

that they lookt more big and mighty than Paul's steeple. 
The freedome of Subject they much did pretend, 

but since they bore sway we never had any ; 
For every Member promoted self- end : Twelve Parliament-men, etc. 

Their Acts and their Orders, which they have contriv'd, 

was still in conclusion to multiply Riches ; 
The Common-wealth sweetly by these men have thriv'd, 

as Lancashire did with the Juncto of Witches. rAiig.. 1612. 

Our Freedom was chain'd to the Egyptian yoak, L Cl - T Potts. 

as it hath been felt and endured by many, 
Still making Religion their author and cloak : Twelve . . . shall, etc. 

Both Citie and Countrey are almost undone 

by these Caterpillars, which swarm'd in the Nation ; 

Their Imps and their Goblins did up and downe run, 
Excise-men I meane, all Knaves of a fashion : 

For all the great Treasure that dayly came in, 

the Souldier wants pay, 't is well knowne by a many ; 

To cheat and to cozen they held it no sinne : Twelve . . . shall, etc. 

The Land and the Livings which these men have had, 
't would make one admire what use they 've made of it ; 

"With Plate and with Jewels they have bin well clad : 
the Souldier far'd hard whilst they got the profit : 

Our Gold and our Silver to Holland they sent, 
but being found out, this is knowne by a many, 

That no one would owne it for fear of a shent : Twe've, etc. [ =scandal. 

'T is judg'd by most people, that they were the cause 

of England and Holland their warring together, [1651, 1652. 

Both Friends and dear Lovers, to break Civill Lawes, 
and in cruell manner to kill one another : 

What car'd they how many did lose their dear lives, 
So they by the bargain did get people's money, 

Sitting secure like Bees in their Hives ? But Twelve, etc. 

Second Division, Pkef. Note. 7c* 

cxlvi* "Here is a House to be Let ?" 

(JTIje Second |3art. To the same Tune. 

THey voted, unvoted, as fancy did guide, 
to passe away time, but increasing their Treasure 
(When Jack is on Cock-horse hee '1 galloping ride, rWoodeut. <). c. 

but falling at last, hee '1 repent it at leisure) . \- m ^^eback. 

The Widow, the Fatherlesse, Gentry and Poore, 

the Trades-man and Citizen, with a great many, 
Have suffered full dearly to heap up their store : 

but Twelve Farliament-men shall be sold for a Pen\ji]y. 

These burdens and grievances England hath felt, 

so long and so heavy, our hearts are ev'n broke[n] ; 
Our Plate, Gold, and Silver to themselves they 've dealt 

(all this is too true, in good time be it spoken). 
For a man to rise high and at last to fall low, 

it is a discredit : this Lot falls to many. 
But 't is no great matter these men to serve so : 

Twelve Parliament-men now are sold for apeny. 

The General, perceiving their lustfull desire [Olivet Cromwell. 

to covet more treasure, being puft with ambition, 
By their Acts and their Orders to set all on fire, 

pretending Religion to rout Superstition, 
He bravely commanded the Souldiers to goe 

in the Parliament House, in defiance of any : 
To which they consented, and now you do know 

that 'Twelve Parliament-men may be sold for apeny. 

The Souldiers, undaunted, laid hold on the Mace, [Of. p. rivii*. 

and out of the Chaire they removed the Speaker ; 
The Great Onts were then in a pittifull case, 

and Tavee cry'd out, "All her cold must forsake her ! " [ = Taffy's gold. 
Thus they were routed, plucl.t out by the eares, 

the house was soone empty and rid of a many 
Usurpers, that sate there this thirteen long yeares : 

Twelve Parliament-men may be sold for a peny. 

To the Tower of London away they were sent, 

as they have sent others by them captivated ; 
what will become of this old Parliament — 

and all their Cooipeeres, that were Royally stated ? 
What they have deserved I wish they may have, 

and 't is the desire, I know, of a many, 
For us to have freedome. that will be brave ! 

but Twelve Parliament-men may be sold for a peny. 

Let 's pray for the General and all his brave Traine, 

he may be an instrument for England's blessing, 
Appointed in Heaven to free us againe — 

for this is the way of our Burdens redressing : 
For England to be in Glory once more, 

it would satisfie, ] know, a great many ; 
But ending, I say, as I said before, 

Twelve Parliament-men now are sold for a peny. 

[jFltttS.] S. S. [i.e. Sam. Sheppard]. 

[b.-l. Two cuts: 1st, symbolically turned upside down; 2nd, Oliver on horse- 
back. " 3 June, 1653." We add another genuine ballad on the same subject.] 



[Mr. Thomas Toon's contemporary MS. ; cf. Drolleries.] 

iDltfccr Kouttug tf)t IRump. 

[Upon Cromwell dissolving the Parliament, 2d April, 1G53.] 

TT^Ill you lieare a strange thinge, ne'ere heard of before, 
r a ballad of newes without any lyes? 
Our Parliament-men are all turn'd out of door, 
and so is our Counsell of State likewise. 

With an high-downe. 

Brave Oliver came into th' House like a spright, 
his fiery nose made the Speaker dumb : 
' You must be gone hence " (quoth he) : "by this light, 
doe you meane to stay here till Doome's-day come ? " 

At this the Speaker lookt pale for feare, 

as though he had bin with the night-mare rid : 

In so much that some did think, that were there, 
that he had even done as the Alderman did. 

For Oliver, though he be Prince in law. 

yet he seem'd to play the Physician there : 
His physick so wrought in the Speaker's maw, 

that it gave him a stool in stead of a Chair. 

Sir Arthur thought Oliver was ouer bold 

(I meane the Knight that was one of the Fiue) ; 

He was very vnwilling to loose his free-hould, 
but he needs must goe that the Deuill doth driue. 

And gone he is into the North Country, 

hoping there to make some stirre : 
But in the meane-tyme take this from me, 

braue Arthur must yeild to braue Oliver. 

Henry Martin wonder' d to see such a thinge, 

done by a Saint of so high degree : 
An act which he did not suspect from a kinge, 

much lesse from such a bould knaue as he. 

But Oliver, laying hands on his sword, 

upbraids him with his Adultery : 
Then Martin gave him never a word, 

saue " humbly thanking his Majesty ! " 

Much wit he had shewed if that he had dared, 

but silent he was for fear of some knocks : 
Quoth he, " If I get you within my ward, 

I may chance to send you out with a Pox." 

Allen the Coppersmith was in great feare, 

who did so much harme since the war began ; 
A broken Citizen, many a yeare, 

And now a broken Parliament-man : 

Brave Oliver told him what he had bin, 

and him a cheating knave did call ; 
"Which put him into a fit of the spleen, 

and he must make an account for all. 

[a. I. 'strook.' 

[a.!, sit. 

[ Wm. Lenthall. 
rCf. H.'s Paul 
\_hefore Felix. 

[Thorn. Atkins. 
[a.l. Doctor of. 

[Ar. Haslevigg. 


.VS. only. 

[In MS only. 


[p. xviii*. 


as Oliver : 

(Not in MS., 
but in two 
' Drolleries, , 
Wit & D., etc. 

Tin Merry 
\_Drullery only. 

[Thomas Allen. 

[MS. & M. D. 
[i.e., £700,000. 



Oliver routing the Rump Parliament. 

[ xviii*, h», u*. 
[al.l. ' terrible.' 

[?ee p. xlviii*. 
[al.l. ■ studied.' 

[Of. p. cvi». 
[Oft. Oct., 1659. 

\po. mort. 1G60. 

It went to the hearte of Sir Hmry Vane 

to thinke what a horrible fall he should have ; 
For he that did rule the Parliament traine 

was call'd (as I heare) " a dissembling Knaue ! " 

Who gaue him that name was easily known, 

't was one that had learnt the arte full well ; 
You may swear it was true, if he call'd him so, 

for who is a dissembler sure he can tell. 

Bradshaw the President, proud as the Pope, 

who lov'd upon Kings and Princes to trample, 
Now the House is dissolu'd I cannot but hope 

to see such a President made an example. 

And if it might be one of the Councell of War, 

I would tell you what my vote should be, 
Upon his own turret at Westminster 

to be hang'd up there for his mor[os]e villany. 

Then woe for the Speaker without any Mace ! 

and woe for the rest of the rabble rout ! 
My Masters, methinks 'tis a pittitul case, 

like the snuff of a candle thus to goe out ! 

I could not but wonder you could not agree, 

you that haue bin such brethren in Euill ; 
A dissolution there needes must be 

when the deuills diuided against th' Deuill. 

Some like the change, and some like it not, 

for others say 'twas not done in due season ; 
Some thinke it was the Jesnites' plot, 

because it resembles the Gunpowder treason. 

Some thinke that Oliver with Charles is agreed, 

and sure 'twas good policy if it were soe ; 
Least that Holland, the French, the Dune, and the Sweede 

should bring him in, vniether he will or no. 

And now I would gladly conclude my songe 

with a prayer, as Ballads are wont to doe ; 
But yet I 'le forbeare : I thinke e're 't be longe 

we shall haue a Kinge and a Parliament too. 

Jim's. [Probably by Sir John Birkenhead, 1653.] 

Such political satires, circulating stealthily, were dangerous to 
both author and bearer if found. Writings were speedily worn 
to pieces by frequent unfolding and refolding. Many must have 
perished before the Restoration came, but in 1656 there had been 
some relaxation of espionage and brutal violence. The factions 
were falling asunder in their mutual hatred and intolerance, so 
that the "honest men came to their own when the thieves fell 
out." Oliver Cromwell had become disgusted at the rapacity 
and hypocrisy of the plotting fanatics with whom he had been 
hitherto associated. This is admitted, and urged in his defence, 
by Dr. Samuel Rawson Gardiner, his best qualified apologist. 

[ Cf. p. 757. 
[a.l. 'Cromwell.' 

Oliver succeeds where Charles had failed. cxlix* 

" Cromwell, in his deed [viz., the forcible expulsion or dissolution of the T>ong 
Parliament], was a truer representative of the feeling of the nation than the 
men who posed [sic] as its representatives. In him, as in the mass of his 
countrymen, political distrust was weighted by contempt for the extortions and 
greediness of the members, and that contempt was best expressed by the words 
' This House to be let unfurnished,' scribbled on its door by some wit of 
the streets under cover of the shades of evening." — The Commonwealth and 
Protectorate, by Dr. S. R. Gardiner, vol. ii, p. 212, 1897. 

But unless Cromwell had found the decrepit Parliament to be 
irreconcileably opposed to his private interests, and what he deemed 
the national benefit of his own supreme military dictatorship, he 
would have continued to disregard the individual or collective faults 
of these men, who were now his declared enemies. He must have 
long kuovvn their degraded character. It was not merely sadness 
at a severed friendship, but the climax of weai'iness at verbosity 
and impracticability, that caused Oliver's emphatic protest against 
the intrusive vanity of 'young Sir Harry.' " Sir Henry Vane ! 
Sir Henry Vane ! The Lord deliver me from Sir Henry Vane ! " 
(Jut of the depths of disgust had arisen that cry. 

Having done violence against the Speaker in the House, it was a necessary 
continuation on the same day at evening to defeat the assumption of independence 
offered by the Council of State, and to treat with contempt proud John Bradshaw ; 
saying to them : "If you are met here as private persons, you shall not be dis- 
turbed ; but if as a Council of State, this is no place for you ; and since you 
cannot but know what was done at the House in the morning, so take notice that 
the Parliament is Dissolved." 

Of Bradshaw, the gloomy and unrepentant regicide, men sang : 

"Britain's Monarch once uncover'd sat, 
While Bradshaw bullied in a broad- brimm'd hat." 

On 31 Oct., 1659, Bradshaw "went to his own place." He had 
betn hated, even to loathing. Thus we read of him in ' The Rebel's 
Reign' ("Now we are met in a knot"), written by Alex. Brome : 

" Bradshaw the knave sent the King to his grave, 
And on the Blood Royal did trample, 
For which the next Lent he was made President, 
And ere long may be made an example. 

" The Parliament sate as snug as a Cat, 
And were playing for mine and yours : 
Sweep-stakes was their Game, till Oliver came, 
And turn'd it to ' Knave out of Doors.' " 

Such a promising theme as 'The Arraignment of the Divel for 
stealing away President Bradshaw ' was not fitted for the dreariest 
of tunes, the monotonously lugubrious Well-a-day ! Well-a-day ! 
already named in the Introduction, p. xc***). (Compare Sir Tom 
Burnet's humorous but unfilial satire of ' Bishop Burnet's Descent 
into Hell,' 1715, quoted on p. 821.) Thomason bought the broad- 
side 'Arraignment' on November 7, 1659, but it is a sorry failure. 

cl* President Bradsbaw's Housewarming. 

" T F you '11 hear news that 'a ill, Gentlemen, Gentlemen ! 
J_ Against the Divel I will be the relator : 
Arraigned he must be, for that feloniously, 
Without due solemnity, he took a Traytor. 

" John Bradshaw was his name, Hoiv it stinks ! how it stinks ! 

Who '11 make, with blacker fame, Pilate unknown. [Cf. p. cvi». 

This worse than worst of things condemn'd the best of Kings, 
And, what more guilt yet brings, knew 't was his own." 
— Arraignment of the Devil for stealing President Bradshaic, 1659. 

Two days later Thomason acquired l A Guildhall Elegit . . . of that infer mil 
Saint, John Bradshaw,' beginning, "Come, sour Melpomene .'" Iu "Old 
Oliver 's gone to the dogs ! " (= ' The Bloody Bead-Roll ') we read : 

" Bid Charon bring his boat ! Here comes a man of fame, 
Who hath waited here above a year ; Jack Bradshaw is his name. 
' Oh ho ! ' quoth Plutn then, as loud as he could yawl ; 
' By Oliver's nose, I did suppose thou had'st been at Whitehall.' " 

Sir Arthur Haselrigg, the regicide, factious and opinionative, 
representative of Leicestershire, had been one of the notorious 
'Five Members' denounced in 1642. {Cf. p. xlvii*, Note.) 

The two stanzas concerning him on p. cxlvii* are recovered from a genuine, 
contemporary manuscript lent opportunely to the Editor by Mr. Thomas Toon 
of Brighton. They complete the original text, but are absent from corrupt 
printed versions. Merry Drollery, 1661, 1670, gave a portion of each stanza; 
but confusedly jumbled together four of the eight lines: thus misreading: 

" Sir Arthur thought Oliver wondrous bold, [-4. Haslerigg. 

Hoping there to make some stir : 
But in the mean time, take this from me, 
Sir Arthur must yield to brave Oliver.''' 

■ Merry Drollery, p. 53, 1661 ; p. 62, 1670. 

Thus, in the last days of the Commonwealth Parliament, "The 
Revolution, like Saturn, devoured its own children." After such 
times of anarchy, it is natural that the sword of military tyranny 
smites the fasces ; the Army deposes the Legislature, when Law 
has turned recreant to Justice. Charles the First foresaw this 
climax, and declared it in his last farewell to the People, when 
he spoke on the scaffold at Whitehall (compare p. civ*, ante) : — 

" Time shall confirm, as History has demonstrated, his principle, that, ' They 
mistook the nature of Government ; for People are free under a Government, 
not by being sharers in it, but by the due administration of the 1 aws. It was 
for this ' (said Charles) ' that now I am come here. If I could have given way 
to an arbitrary sway, for to have all Laws changed according to the Power of the 
Sword, I need not have come here, and therefore 1 tell you that I am the Martyr 
of the People!'" — Isaac Disraeli's Commentaries on the Life and Reign of 
Charles the First, vol. ii, p. 572 ; edition 1851. 

On this safe ground we take our stand abidingly, as did the best 
of the Old Cavaliers. We remain faithful to our beloved Queen, as 
they were to the memory of the Martyred Charles. On the 250th 
anniversary of his death, the ' White Pose ' his statue. 

[Mr. Thomas Toon's unique contemporary MS. ; see p. clii*.] 

^eal^Cut) ipiot anti 4 Curn=Coat IBots^ 1679. 

[Tune of The Cutpurse ; or, Packington's Pound. See vol. iii, p. 492.] 

YOu Good men of Middlesex County so dear, 
I '11 tell you a Tale of a monstrous nature, 
How a blust'ring Chancery Examineer 

did cease to be God's (to become the Pope's) Creature. 
'T was not Es court the Sot, who knew all the Plot, 
Yet could onely discover his mother's lewd Twat: 
Is 't not Peyton, the recreant Knight of our Shire, [Sir Robt. 

Who plotted with W[i. Williams], Y[ork], and Cellier ? 
Oh Peyton' ! ih' had 'st better been hanged at the Gallows, 
With thy own br other -P adders, and Burglary -fellows. [SeeNote. 

"Was thy Wife and Duras, or the Starres in conjunction, [Lewis D. 

to ruine thy Honour, aud cuckold thy Fame ? 
What els could provoke thee to take up the function 
of extirpating Truth, or the Protestant name ? 

Or did'st thou complayn of the Bully's hard Cane, 
To James and his Cut-throtes, for fear to be slayn? 
O're rul'd hy the Starres, and horn'd by thy wife, 
Thou 'st sold Fame and Honour to save a vile life. 

Oh Peyton ! thou 'dst better been hanged, etc. \_Passim. 

Now Middlesex weep the fate of thy Hero, 

and Peyton, lament thy sad Ruine and fall, 
Who had sold us to Paris, to Pome, and Duke Nero, [York. 

for a French butter'd-bun at bawdy White-hall. [' Cameli: 

To join with Informers, French Papists and Burners, 
Shews thy mother (as well as thy daughter) whelp'd Turners. 
Repent ! (oh repent) of this Gadbury Evil, [T. Gadbwy, 

And reveal the daran'd Plot of Pope, D[uke], and Divell : 

Then maifst thou retourn to thy honest good fellows, 

And save thee from Infamy, Gaol, and the Galloivs. 

Now God guard this Land, our Ships, and our Seas ! 

and save the King's life, if his Majesty please : 
From P/anby's, from Jammifs, from Danger field'?, Plots, 

From Lewis's Pistolls, and Lauderdale's Scots ; [Zokm xiv. 

From a clamn'd Popish knife, Sugar-plumbes from his wife, 
And what else soever may hurt his dear life : [Katherine. 

And speedily send us a Parliament Session, [Vol. iv, 189. 

To bring Traytors to justice, and Priests to confession. 

King of Icings, hear us ! for ours will not hear, 

Till thou sofVnest his Heart, and open'st his ear. 

clii* Note on the recovered * Meal-Tub Plot ' ballad. 

Neither broadside nor other printed copy of this spirited ballad is known. 
The contemporary manuscript belongs to Mr. Thomas Toon, of Prince Albert 
Street, Brighton : also the earlier MS. of ' Oliver, ' used for our p. cxlvii*, etc. 
To him, therefore, are due thanks from the Editor, and from the Ballad Society. 

Of the present ballad, lacking title, name of tune or author, in the probably 
unique manuscript, the date is soon after 9 January, 1679, Old Style (16f§). 
For explanatory notes, see our vol. v, pp. 121, 224, 336. Also Bagford Ballads, 
pp. 663-709; for Sir William Waller, 'Arod,' p. 751; for the 'Meal-Tub 
Plot,' into which he ferreted, pp. 685, 703,751, 880, 986, 1,015. As to the 
scandalous allegation concerning an intrigue betwixt Lewis Duras, Earl of 
Feversham, and Lady Peyton, it is probably true, since earlier, in 1679, he 
lost his first wife, Mary Sondes, daughter of Lord Sondes : whose titles he 
inherited in 1677. Readers have met Duras (vol. v) in the account of Sedgemore 
Fight, which was the ruin of James, Duke of Monmouth. Elizabeth Cellier, 
' the Popish Midwife,' at the pillory, is shewn on p. 986 of Bagford Ballads. 

'Es court the Sot,' if not Estcourt the lampooner, might be Sir William Hescot, 
who was afterwards killed in a duel (Henry St. Johns and Colonel Webb were 
arraigned for it, sentenced to death, 10 Dec, 1684, but not executed). Sir Robert 
Peyton bore the riicknames of ' Turncoat Bob,' alias ' Changeling Robin.' He 
was often in trouble, a fickle and impulsive busybody ; arrested, but discharged 
from custody, May, 1680; expelled by the disaffected Commons, for having 
challenged their ex- Speaker ' Wi. Williams.' Apprehended on a warrant and 
committed to the Tower, his outlawry was reversed, soon after the Revolutiou, 
but he died of fever, 4 May, 1689. He and his wife were ' oscillators,' perverts, 
or ' Turners 'j^(as they are called in the twenty-sixth line). 

Ben Jonson's ' Cutpurse ' = " My Masters and Friends," is in Roxb. Ballads, 
tune of Packington's Pound. The '■Bartholomew Fair" 1 ballad held this burden : 
' Youth, youth, thou had'st better been starved by thy nurse, 
Than live to be hang'' d for cutting a purse.' 

' J. P.,' whose initials are attached to many amatory ballads, was 

almost certainly John Playford, publisher of the Choyce Ayres. 

His broadside elongations reacted favourably on Society upward. " J. P." 
wrote ballads and lyrics for the market, to improve the taste of the populace. 

'Daphne's Complaint,' one of J. P.'s own rarest ballads, is here 
reproduced, a ditty long desired (see p. 124, to the same tune; also 
Note on p. 148). It displays woman's tenderness and weakness. 

" Mournfully she sung this song : 
' O my Love, O my Love, O my Love, 
Thou stay est too long ! ' " 

She complained of his absence and tardiness in returning to her, not of his 
abiding at her side (as in ' Slrephon and Chloris,' 1 vi, 128), "loath to depart." 
That story is best told by Dr. John Donne in his ' Break of Day.' 

STay, O Sweet ! and do not rise ! 
The light that shines comes from thine eyes : 
The Day breaks not ; it is my heart, 
Because that you and I must part. 
Stay ! or else my joys will die, 
And perish in their infancy." 


[Pepys Collection, III, 122; Eawlinson, 4to., 566, fol. 33.] 

Dapfme'0 Complaint 

for tije absence of \)tx 3Lober. 

The absence of her Love she moans, 
"With bitter Sighs and grievous Groans ; 
And still the burden of her song 
Is, my Love, thou stay'st too long. 

To a Pretty Pleasant New Tune. J. P. 

TY/ THen * heard a trumpet sound, down I lay upon the ground, 
VV And did listen to a sound which m;ide the Ecchoes to rebound : 
Mournfully she sung this song : 
" my Love, my Love, my Love, 
thou slay'st too long ! " 

Underneath a Mirtle tree, all alone sat fair Daphne ; 
On her lap a I-ute she laid, whereupon she sweetly plaid. 

Mournfully [she sung this Song,] etc. [rassim. 

cliv* " my Love, thou stai/st too long ! " 

3Tfje JScconb Part, to the same Tune. 

rPHe wild Bull and savage Bear roaring came this voice to hear : 
i When they heard fair Daphne's voice, suddenly they ceas'd their noise : 
Mournfully she sung this song, etc. 

Out of the Woods the nimble Deer tripping came this voice to hear ; 
All about her they did throng, and did listen whilst she sung. 

Tygers, "Wolves, and Lyons strong, came to hear fair Daphne's song; 
And they all stood in amaze when her voice she once did raise. 

With her voyce her Lute kept time, whilst she sung this doleful rhyme ; 
Long she lookt, and long did wait, still she thought her Love too late. 

On the grassy Plain she sate, sore bewailing her sad fate, 
Still expecting of her Dear, wishing then he had been there. 

" Sure thou hast forgot me quite, or hast found some new delight ; 
That I here must sit alone, for thy absence making moan." 
Still she sung this mournful Song : 
" my Love, my Love, my Love, 
thou stay'' st too long .'" 

" Some disaster at this time bath befallen the Lover of mine, 
That thou art so long me fro' ; and so fills my heart with woe." 

Thus she did bewail her case, as she sat upon this place ; 
Whilst the Savage Beasts, so grim, tamely stood to hear her sing. 

When her Lover came at last, at this sight he was agast : 
Then she bid him fear no harm, for these wild Beasts she would charm : 
Suddenly she changed her Song, 
Singing, " my Lore, my Love, my Love, 
thou stay'st too long ! " 

Then they sweetly did imhrace in that flow'ry shady place, 
Whilst the frighted beasts did skip to the Woods, and nimbly trip : 
Then she sung, melodiously, 
" my Love, my Love, my Love, 
Welcome to me ! ' ' 

Printed for R. B., and sold by F. Coles, T. Vere, J. Wright, and /. Clarke. 

[Black-letter. Burden in white-letter, printed as three lines throughout. 
The woodcut is the same as on p. 110 of vol. vi (viz., the same J. P.'s ' Love in 
the Blossom ' =" One Summer evening ") : a Knight in armour and a Cavalier. 
Lady, with a suggestive little cradled papoose floating down the stream towards 
them presaging " What the ship might be expected to bring to them " in the 
future. R. B., for whom it was printed, was Richard Burton. His name 
appears, in full, on J. P.'s ' Coy Shepherdess' = " Phillis on the new-maile 
Hay" (Roxb. Ballads, iii, 619). The Roxb. exemplar of J. P.'s "One Summer 
evening fresh and fair" (vi, 110) is duplicated in Jersey Coll., i, 260, printed 
for W. Thackeray, T. Passenger, and W. Whitwood.] 

Thanks to the Rev. Andrew Clark's Transcript of the Countess of M— 's 
Shirburn MS., we recover for this place the sequel of Dulcina (if. p. 794), that 
had been lost since 1615. The original ballad entitled ' The Shepherd's Wooing 
Dulcina,' beginning " As at noon Dulcina rested," we twice reprinted : first iu 
The Westminster Drollery, Part Second, p. 59, and again in Roxb. Ballads 
(with Introduction, and variorum notes, collating the inaccurate Percy Folio MS ), 
vol. vi, pp. 164-9. Either to Sir Walter Raleigh's original, or to the present 
Sequel, the entry in Stat. Registers refers: "22° Maij, 1615: John White, 
Thomas Langley : Received of them for printing the ballet of ' Dulcina ' to the 
tune of, Forgoe me noice, come to me sone vi d ." — 'Transcripts, vol. iii, 567. 


[MS. Shirburn, North Lib. 119, D. 44, fol. 124, verso.] 

3n ercellent netoe Dpttpe, tobcrcin fapre Dulcina 

camplaonetrj far tfje absence of fjer Nearest Coridon, but at length; 
is comfortctj bg ij£s presence. 

To the Tune of, Dulcina [vol. vi, p. 164]. 

THe golden god Hyperion by Thetis is saluted, 
Yet comes as Shephard Coridon in Brydall cloathing suited. 
Dulcina then did say that Men 
Were changing like the silver moone : 
" And now, 1 feare, I buy too deare, 
' Forgoe me now, come to me sooiie ! ' 

" Wand 1 ring by the silver mouutaines, seeking my sweet Shephard swain, 
I heard the christal humming fouutaines mourningly with me complaine ; 
How I am slayne by Love's disdaine, 
And all my musick out of tune ; 
Yet will I singe no other thinge : 
' Forgoe me now, come to me soone ! ' 

" Love is in her blooming blasted, deceived by a golden tongue, 
Vaine delights have fondly tasted, sweets that brings me bytter wrong. 
If et he 's a creature, for his feature, 
More jocund than the sunne or moone ; 
Sweet, turn againe, the flowre of men, 
Forgoe me now : come to me soone ! 

" Let Satyrs sing the Roundelayes, and fayryes daunce their twilight's round ; 
Whilst we in Venus sugred playes, doe solace on the flowery ground. 
The darkest night, for our delight, 
Is still as pleasant as the moone ; 
Within thy armes, when Cupid charmes, 
Dulcina cannot be too soone. 

" A Sheep-hooke all of good red gould, my Coridon, I 'le thee provide, 
To drive my lambes vnto their folde, soe I may be thy wedded bride ; 
And for thy sake, I 'le garlands make 
Of Rosye buds and Hawthorne bloome : 
Make noe delay, but sweetly say, 
' I He come to my Dulcina soone.'' " 

As she in sorrow then sat weeping, goulden slumber clos'd her eyes ; 
The Shepheard came and found her sleeping, saying, " Fay re Dulcina, rise ! 

Let Love adorne our bridall morne, 

Now bells doe ring a silver tune, 

And pretty faunes daunce o're the Lawnes, 

To thinke whatjoyes will follow soone. 1 ' 

3Tfte Secant) Part, to the same Tuxe. 

A Hundredth Shephards come with him, attyred all in country gray : 
With Oaten reeds they piped trim, in honour of Love's holyday ; 
Their bonnets fayre embrod'red were, 
In beauty lyke a winter's moone ; 
Which set on fire the sweet desire 
Of wished joyes thatfvllow'd soone. 

clvi* Fair Dulcina Complaineth. (Sequel.) 

" Loyalty with Love 's requited, yf that Lovers have contentinge, 
And Pleasure stolue will be affrighted soone by jealous head toruientinge. 
For styll there lyes, in lovers' eyes, 
A fancy changing like the moone ; 
Yet in my bre[a]st a constant nest 
Of sweet delight that comes full soone. 

" Our wood-nymphs on their summer greenes. God Cupid kindly to content, 
Will foote it like the nimble Queenes that daunct in Lady Venus tent ; 
And Hymen's hands tye holy bands, 
This Bridall day, before hye noone ; 

[To] fayrer Dame did never swain [MS. ' A.' 

Say, ' Come, Dulcina, to me soone ! ' 

" The day is spent with sweet desires, our wishes welcome gentle night, 
And Virgins' lamps of Hymen's tires doe lead the way to Love's delight : 
Come, nymph, and rest upon my brest, 
Tyll cockes do crow their morning tune ; 
Then let 's awake, and pastime make, 
And taste the ioyes we shall have soone. 

" Aurora, blushing white and redde, now lends us pleasure in our sleepes, 
Aud bright Apollo from his bed between the silken Curtaiues keepes ; 
And with his face gives sweeter grace 
Than Phoebus doth at cheerfull Noone : 
Leave off to say ' Away, away! ' 
Aud 1 'le be still thy comjort soone.' 1 '' 

Thus hand in hand desire did meete, as men and maydens vse to doe : 
If you attempt a Lady sweete, come learne of Condon to wooe ; 

The country swain is alwayes plaine, 

And sings to love the sweetest tune ; 
" Be not too coy, but say with ioy, 

' Forgoe me now : come to me soone ! ' " JFtlUS. 

The fair Dulcina and her Coridon end their ' foregoing ' in a happy wedding. 
She could never lose the charm oi her maiden bloom. 

% ' Cupid's Conquest ' completes the Group that holds ' Cupid's Power ' and 
' Cupid's Revenge,' on pp. cxxxiv* and cxxxvi* of this Prefatory JVo'e. 

Note. — Both the tune-names refer to the same ballad, viz., the one beginning: 

"As I wa/kt forth to take the air, one morning musing all alone, 
I heard a young man full of care, thus to himself did make great moan : 
' My dearest Lear and I must part,' " etc. 

It is the Roxburghe ballad entitled ' True Love Rewarded with Loyalty ' 
(already reprinted in vol. vi, p. 260). It has ' a new West-Country Tune 
called O hark, my Love ! or, Flora, farewell .' ' (written by Laurence Price, before 
1629 ; see vol. vi, p. 105 : it is No. 158 in William Thackeray's List of Ballads). 

Another ahernative tune is A thousand times my Love commend (see vol. i, 277) : 

" Why should I thus complain on thee ? so cruelly thou murderest me." 

Written by William Blunden (reprinted in vol. vi, p. 257), ' The Faithful 
Lovers of the West' (Stat. Comp. Registers, D, fol. 392, in 1635). 

[Jersey Collection, I, 142 = Lind., 882; Huth, I, 57.] 

Cupitfs Conquest; ©r, 

Will tfy £>&cplicro curt faiv Kate of tfie dDcecu ; uotfi 
umtcD together in pure iLoue. 

When Damsels Fair doth thus Ensnare 

And win their Lover's heart, 
Thus with a Frown can run him down, 

Then Cupid takes his part. 

This may be Printed, R. L[e] S[trange]. 

To the Tune of, As I went [ = tvalk'd] forth to take the Air; or, My dearest 
dear and I must part. [See the preceding Note, and vol. vi, p. 260.] 

NOw am I tost on waves of Love, 
here like a Ship that 's under Sail ; 
]S'o kind entreaties .will not move 
my Love to send one pleasant Gale. 

She is an Angel in mine Eye, 

and Beauty flows in e'ry vein, 
Yet I lye wounded fatally, 

and by the Dart of her Disdain. 

The lusture of her Beauty bright 

hath kindled such a secret flame 
Within my breast, that, day and night, 

I needs must call upon her name. 

Fair Eatee, Katee, too unkind, 

why am I banisht in exile? 
If thou wilt ease a troubled mind 

then send me here a gentle smile. 

W[ere] she as kind as she was fair [text, 'Was.' 

she soon would send me some relief, 
And ease my mind of grief and care, 

and banish all the clouds of Grief. 

But yet, alas! it is in vain, 

my Love she ever more defies ; 
Though I in sorrow here complain, 

yet she resolv'd to Tyrannize. 

Assist me, Cupid, with thine aid, 

and let me not he overthrown ; 
Do thou her gentle heart invade, 

when she is silent all alone. 

When her Enchanting eyes doth close, 

and all her senses are at rest, 
When she is in her Night repose, 

then seize the closet of her Breast. 

clviii* Cupid's Conquest : Wilt and Kate United. 

[Second Part, to the same Tune.] 

rPHen Cupid took his Dart in hand, 
JL not fearing then to make her yield ; 
He did not long disputing stand, 
e're he subdu'd and won the field. 

When Katee found her heart betray'd, 

and yet no creature could she see, 
She like a Pensive Lover said, 

" What sudden chauge is wrought in me ? " 

Then many sighs and tears she spent 

in sorrow for her dearest Dear ; [misp. ' it sorrow.' 

Her yielding heart did then relent, 

" Sweet William, would thou wert here ! 

" Sure pride did over-sway my heart, 
causing Ambition for to reign ; 
But since I feel Love's fatal smart, 
for sweet William I do complain." 

Now when it plainly did appear 

that she in sorrows did condole, 
This joyful tydings to his ear 

revived then his fainting Soul. 

The vail of grief and heaviness 

no longer seemed to remain, 
No tongue was able to express 

the joyes of her beloved Swain. 

He then embraced her in his arms, 

and joyfully they did compleat 
The most [adorjed pleasant Charms, [misp. 'indorsed.' 

with vows and tender kisses sweet. 

Thus, many fair expressions past, 
and Katee vowing thus did say : 
" As long as ever life doth last, 

I 'le be as constant as the day." 

Printed for J. Beacon at the Angel in Guilt -spur -street without Newgate [1685]. 

[Black-letter. Five cuts, in Moxbwghe Ballads : 1st, Gravesend damsel, p. 652 ; 
2nd, man, iv, 62 ; 3rd, Lady, vii, 29 ; 4th, fat Cupid, iv, 457 ; 5th, Lovers 
shot by Cupid, vii, 654. Date of original, circa 1635 ; but of reprint, 1685.] 

Tom D'Urfey's 'New Song of State and Ambition' (see vol. iv, p. 561) had 
been sung at the Duke's Theatre, Dorset Gardens, in 1683, and was followed 
in 1684 by sundry political parodies, to the same tune, one of them beginning : 

" Faction and Folly, alas! will deceive you, 

The Loyal man still the best Subject does prove. 
Treason of reason, poor Whig, will bereave you ; 
You cannot be bless'd till this curse you remove," etc. 

It was in praise of High- Admiral James Duke of York, "the Ocean's defender, 
the joy of his friends and the dread of his foes," viz., Clayton, Ferguson, Richard 
Baxter, Sir Patience Ward, and the pretender Monmouth. 


[Jersey Coll., Ill, 72, unique ; Trowbesh Trans., 4to.,B. XXI, p. 111.] 

Protestant jTatfjet^ amrice to bis ambitious ^on* 

To the Tune of : State and Ambition, alas ! will deceive ye, 

[there 's no solid Joy but the blessitiy of Love ; 
Scorn does of Pleasure, fair Sylvia, bereave ye : 
your fame is not perfect till that you remove.] 

[— T. D'Urfey. See preceding Note.] 

8 Tate and Ambition, alas ! will deceive you, 
there 's no solid joy but in Blessings above ; 
Of all comforts here [Death] soon will bereave you, [« heav'n.* 

your Estates and your Bags it will shortly remove. 
But he that inherits a portion of Grace, 

he may lye down in Peace, and take his sweet rest; 
If after this life his footsteps you '11 trace, 

you will find that with Saints and with Angels he 's plac'd. 

His Portion is lasting, his Pleasures are certain, 

his Joys are unmixt, and his Blessings are sure ; 
When the comforts of Earth are all fading and parting 

his peace and his pleasures shall ever endure. 
His Labours shall meet with a Kingdom and Crown, 

his Glory and Joy shall never have end ; 
When the Sun, Moon, and Stars shall all tumble down, 

with glorious Arch-Angels his time he shall spend. 

Oh ! then let us mount our Hearts up to Heaven ! 

let our Souls be rouz'd up above this dull earth ; 
In Sion our sins shall all be forgiven : 

it is there, only there, we can have our true Mirth. [ =Joy. 
The World, alas ! at best is a Bubble, 

a Shadow, a Dream, a thing of no worth ; 
At best, it breeds vexation and trouble, 

and sorrow and misery often brings forth. 

Then live such a Life as you would wish, dying, 

a Life of Religion, of Truth, and of Zeal ; 
For your time it has wings, and you '11 find it still flying, 

't will suddenly post you to woe or to weal. 
happy 's that Man, thrice happy is he, 

whose end and whose aim are of Blessings above ; 
The Beauty of Sion he shortly shall see, 

and still be surrounded with heavenly Love. 

clx* The Protestant Father's Advice. 

What heavenly Raptures and Anthems are sounding 

in ears of the Saints and the Angels [at] rest! [*. 'in.' 

Loue, kindness, and sweetness in Heaven's abounding : 

unspeakable Joy is attending the Blest. 
Lute, Timbrel, and Harp, with [Anthems of Praise], 

are filling the Heaven with glorious Delight, 
And the blest Son of Man with his beauteous rays 

adorns all his Saints, makes them glorious and bright. 

Since Heaven is so glorious, and Earth 's such a trouble, 

it 's madness and nonsense to dye unprepar'd ; 
The Richest have found the whole Globe but a bubble, 

they that great Lands and great Fortunes have shar'd. 
Ko joy that is real the World can allow, 

no comfort, no pleasure, no Mirth nor Content: 
Then why to this Wealth do men foolishly bow, 

and why are our days so sordidly spent ? 

London: Printed fori*. Brooksby, at the Golden-Ball in Pye-corner. 
[White-letter, in two columns. It has the woodcut of p. cliii*. Date, 1684.] 

& Nei»=mat>e fHctiko composrtf of Songs. 

WE give here a clever ' New-made Medley' which was, in 1688-89, sung; to 
the same tune, ' State and Ambition.'' It is in Pepys, v, 411, naming 
many songs that were then in favour. Nearly all of these we have identified, as 
shewn in our marginalia. Most of them we had reprinted. 

In vol. i of these Roxb. Ballads, 1869 (pp. 51-61), Mr. William Chappell 
reprinted other ' Medleys,' but without making a similar attempt at identification. 
He believed that almost all the a ongs mentioned had perished : " Medleys like 
this [Martin Parker's] and the following [by F. D.], made up from cross-readings 
of old ballads and interspersed with proverbs, show us the immense proportion of 
ballads that have peiishtd, while they supply dates of current popularity for the 
few that remain" (vol. i, p. 51). J. W. E. editorially holds a more hopeful 
view, after many years given unaidedly to the search. Even of Martin Parker's 
Medley there remained three other exemplars that were unknown to Mr. Chappell, 
viz., luring Collection, No. 86; Huth, -J±; and Jersey, 3I4, now Lindes., 680. 
Comparatively few ballads, after having once bten popular, are absolutely Lost ; 
they are merely temporarily Not Found. Thus, of songs mentioned in the third 
stanza of F. D.'s ' Medley,' 1620, we have recovered many, one being " Within 
oure towne faire Susan dwells " (see p. clxiii*). 

II We have also recovered ' Merrily and Cherrily' (p. cxlv*): a ballad by 
John Lookes (who wrote 'The Ragman,' p. 778). It is dated May, 1641. The 
burden is, " Merrily and Cherrily let 's drink off our Beere ; Let who as will run 
for it, nee will stay here." 

This is the tune and burden named in ' The Parliament Routed ' of June, 1653 
(compare p. cc*, post). The ballad by Lookes is entitled ' Keepe thy head on 
thy shoulders, and I will keepe mine.' It begins, " Though Wentworth 's 
beheaded, should any repyne, There 's others may come to the Blocke besides 
he" (sic). Music is in Playford's Dancing-Master, 1651. 


a iBcfoHnatic a^ctilcp, compost of sunUrp ^onrjs, 

Jor Sport ana Pastime for the most ingenious ILobcrs of 
lEit ana tfHfrtij. 

To the Tune of, State and Ambition. [Two lines of music. See Pills, v, 11.] 

STate and Ambition, — all joy to Great Ceesar ! 
Sawney shall ne'er be my — Colly my Cow ; 
All Hail to the Shades ; all Joy to the Bridegroom 

And call upon Dobbin with Hi, Je, ho. 
Remember, ye Whigs, what was formerly done; 

And Jenny, come tye my bonny Cravat ! 
If I live to grow old, for I find I go down : 
For I cannot come every day to ivoo. 

Jove in his throne was a Fumbler, Tom Farthing, 

Af s] Jockey and Jenny together did lie ; 
Oh Mother ! Roger : Boys, fill us a Bumper, 

For why will you die, my poor Ccelia, ah why ? 
Hark ! how thund'ring Cannons do roar ! 

Ladies of London, both wealthy and fair ; 
Charon, make haste, and ferry me over : 

Lilli burlero bullen a lah. 

Chi oris, awake! Foitr pence half -penny far tiling : 

Give me the Lass that is true Country bred ; 
Like John of Gaunt I walk in Covent- Garden, 

I am a Maid, and a very good Maid. 
Twa bonny Lads was Saivney and Jockey ; 

The Delights of the Bottle & charms of good Wine 
Wading the water so deep, my sweet Moggy, 

Cold and Raw, let it run in the right Hue. 

Old Obadiah sings Ave-Maria, 

Sing Lulla-by-Baby, ivith a Dildo : 
The old Woman and her Cat sat by the Fire, 

Now this is my Love, d' ye like her, ho f 
Old Chiron thus preach'd to his pupil Achilles, 

And under this stone lies Gabriel John ; 
Happy was I ' at the sight of fair Phillis ' : 

What should a Young Woman do ivith an Old Man ? 

There 's old Father Peters with his Romish creatures, 

There was an Old Woman sold Pudding-Pies ; 
Cannons with thunder shall fill them with wonder, 

I once lov'd a Lass that had bright rowling eyes. 
There's my maid Mary, she does mind her Dairy, 

I took to my heels and away I did run ; 
And bids him prepare to be happy to -Morrow ; 

Alass ! I don't know the right end of a Gun. 

Second Division, Pbef. Note. 

vol. v, 56. 

iv, 14; iii, 601. 

v, 422; Pcp.,iv, 93. 

'As I w. driving.' 

iv, 254. 

p. 466. 

iv, 507. 

p. lxix*. 

pp. 670, S56. 
p. 460. 

p. 201 ; v, 90. 
Of. iii, 387 : 1077. 
v, 366. 
iii, 369. 
vi, 24. 
^Bagford, 370. 

(vi, 128; p. 710. 
iv, 402. 

vii, 447. 

v, 613. 

vol. ix, p. clxvi*. 

Liggan Water. 

vii, 233. 

Obad. Walker. 
Note, p. clxii*. 

Seep. 199," Hi ho." 
vol. v, i). 514. 
Purcell: Catch Co. 
Choice Ayres, i. 24. 
p. 679. 

Edward Tetre. 
p. 776; vii, 77. 

vii, 338. 
vii, 29. 

vii, 273? 
Lindesiana, 527. 


clxii* Medley composed out of sundry Songs, 1088 


My Life and Death does lye both in your Power, 

And every Man to his Mind, Shrewsbury for me 
On the Bank of a Brook as I sate fishing : 

Shall I die a Maid, and never married be? 
TJds bobs ! let Oliver now be forgotten ! 

Joan is as good as my Lady in the Dark ; 
Cuckolds are Christians, Boys, all the world over : 

And here 's a full Bumper to Robin John Clark. 

vii, 47. 
vi, 359. 
p. xcv***. 
vi, 238. 
v, 2G7. 

Pepys, i, 236. 
Of. p. clxv*. 
? Pills, vi, 327. 

[In the Pepys Collection, V, 411. White-letter. No cut, or p. name, 1688-9.] 
Lord Macaulay quotes the line ridiculing Obadiah "Walker at Univ. Coll., Oxon., 
in 1687 : Hist. E., c. viii. " Old Father Peters " is the Jesuit and councillor : 

" Of Magdalen College he thought it most fit [Vol. v, 725. 

To turn out the Fellows, a very fine trick, 
And place Father Walker, that curst Jesuit: 

Sing, hey, brave Chancellor I ho, brave Chancellor I [= Jeffreys. 

" In Some there is a most fearful rout, 
And what do you think it is about ? 
Because the Birth of the Babe is come out : 

Sing Lulla-by, Baby, by, by, by.'''' [Vol. iv, 304. 

This was the ' Warming-Pan' story (compare p. 299, ante). See vol. i, p. 47, 
for the other burden named, With a Bildo ; also Bagford Ballads, pp. 551-3. 

Not many of the best popular ballads are absent from the Roxburghe and the 
Bagford Collections. Fifty pages would suffice to hold them all, additionally, 
viz. :— (1) ' The Childe of Elle '= " On yonder hill a castle stands." (2) ' The 
Heir of Linue '=" Lithe and listen 1 " (3) 'Adam Bell, Clym of the Cloughe, 
and William of Cloudislee ' : begins, " Merry it was in grene forest, amonge the 
leaves grene" (Iutrod., p. xxxviii***). (4) 'The Boy and the Mantle ' = 
" In the third day of May," to accompany (5) " As it fell out on a Pentecost 
day." (6) ' Gernutus the Jew of Venice,' from the Pepys Collection, " In Venice 
towne, not long agoe," to the tune of Blacke and Yellow. A ballad imitative of 
Shakespeare, (7) 'The Frolicksome Duke; or, The Tinker's Good-Fortune': 
"Now as Fame does report, a young Duke keeps a Court." (Taming of Shrew.) 

" Jack shall have Jill, nought shall go ill : 
The Man shall have his Mare again, and all shall be well." [i.e. Mosse. 
A Midsummer Night'' s Dream : Epilogue. 

In F. D.'s 'Medley' (vol. i, p. 57, line 29) is "The Man shall have his 
Mare again." Mention is made of " Methinks it is a pleasant thing to walk 
on Primrose-hill": ' The Cut-purse'; 'The Wife of Bath'; 'Simon Suckeggs ' 
[" who sold his mother for duck-eggs, bought her agen for a bottle of gin," etc.] ; 
" When Fair Jerusalem" (Warning to London, 1603 : vii, 798) ; ' Troy Town' 
(vi, 548) ; ' Trial of True Love ' (ii, 87); " Diana and her darlings dear " (ii, 520) ; 
" Who list to lead a Soldier's life?"; "Friend, ye may have a Bacon flitch 
at Dunmow" ; " Poor Lazarus lies at Dives' gate, half-starved," etc. Compare 
p. lxxxv* for ' Primrose-Hill ' ; also pp. cli*, clii*, and vol. iii, p. 492, for Ben 
Jonson's ' Cutpurse.' Vol. vii, 213, holds " In Bath a wanton Wife did dwell." 
F. D., circd 1620, in his seventeenth line, mentions the elder ballad, now recovered, 
printed on the opposite p. clxiii, viz. " Within oure Towne faire Susan dwells." 


[The Countess of Macclesfield's Shirburn MS., North Lib., 119, D. 44.] 

Hn czBrcellcnt ncto TMlaD of a goung e§an in 

ptapge of f)t0 Motoco 0tt>cct /Stosarc of Ashford. 

IN this towne fayre Susan dwelleth : Va.l. " "Within our 

1 loue her and she loues me ; L . . . dwells." 

Hellen's, beauty she excelleth, 

white her forehead, brown her eye. 
More soft than silke, her Ivory hands, 

and her fingers long and slender : 
Ther 's neuer a Lady in thys lande 
is by nature halfe so tender. 

My Loue can sport, my Loue can playe, 

my Loue can tricke, daunce, and syng ; 
My Loue can sytt with me all daye, 

and tell me many a pretty thinge. [a.l. " witty." 

Like pretty birds and turtles true, 

each other still we [doe] delight ; 
We spend the tyme in pleasant sports 

from the morning to the night. 

"When she meetes me she will kysse me, 

and will take me by the hand ; 
Protesting that she wou'd not misse me 

for the wealth of Tagus land. 
Then, lyke Venus, she will bring me 

to some pleasant place of pleasure, 
And give my h[e]art the whole commaund 

of all her Beauty's pleasing treasure. 

When she hath made this courteous offer, 

I must needes fulfill her minde ; 
Who can refuse a Mayden's proffer ? 

Maydens love not men unkinde. 
Like Mars I thus my Venus greete, 

and her champion doe I prove ; 
There is no pleasure halfe so sweete 

as my Susan's in her loue. 

Thus Loue and Beautye are agreed 

to give me both her h[e]art and hand ; 
She 's true to me in word and deede, 

and I am hers for to commaund. 
At last she sayd : " Good Syr, alack ! 

oh, my h[e]art is wondrous ill ! 
Your loue hath made your Susan, sicke : 

Death will shortly have his will." 

But now she is becom'd a woman, 

and of death is not at'rayd ; 
She is my wife, and I her husbande, 

[she] noe longer lives a mayde : 
But as a mother she hath prooved 

a lusty soldier good and tall : 
The stoutest champion in the world, 

she nothing feareth now at all. 


Sweet Susan of Ash ford. 

Thus of my Sue I make an end, 

my darling and my turtle true ; 
No young man e'er found dearer friend 

than I have found of my sweet Sue. 
You Maydes that fayne would married be, 

of her and me this lesson take : 
When kindnes once is offered you, 

vnkindly do it not forsake. 


[Rawlinson Collection, 566, fol. 22 ; Wood, E. 25, fol. 123.] 

%$t Eicft anD JHotirigging CticfcolD tocU &ari$fi'c&» 

Plenty of Cuckolds now, why ? that 's no News, 

They Christians are, or else your Fathers Jews ; [p. clxii*. 

But yet amongst them all there 's none that thrives, 

But those that give free License to their Wives 

To trade with whom they please : the jealous man 

Must still a Cuckold be, do what he can, 

And never live to see a happy day, 

But waste with jealousie, and pine away. 
Tune is, The delights of the Bottle. [Note, p. clxv* ; Music, iv, 43.] 

[. W. E. 


of a Cuckold, that, doth not repine, 
Is his bag's full of Gold and his cellar of Wine ; 
All things he enjoyeth, and nothing can want, 
But with his Wife's friends he may revel and rant : 
A churlish young Cuckold shall ever be poor, 
Whilst we that are willing shall tumble in store. 

My Wife she doth horn me, I know 't very well, 

Nor I am not asham'd all my neighbours to tell, 

For a strange alteration in my liking I find, 

I may thank my fine wife, and her friends that are kind. 


The Rich Cuckold well Satisfied. clxv* 

Whilst jealous I was, I was then full of woe, 
And abroad to hard labour I was forced to go ; 
Wbeu at night I came home I had little content, 
Eut I of my folly did quickly repent. 

Pine Gallants each day were desirous to know me, 
I wonder'd why they so much kindness should owe me : 
Then home along with me these Gamesters must go, 
And there make me drunk for a trick that I know. 

"When once to the house I had shew'd them the way, 
1 hud store of their companies every day : 
And I being quiet, my wife she grew kind, 
And under the Candlestick gold 1 could find. 

SHe bought me fine cloaths, new hat and lac'd bands, 
With rich fringed Gloves for to put on my hands ; 
One pocket had Silver, the other had Gold, 
We took a new house, and disdained the old. 

Those gallants to please me will often provide 
Rich dinners for me and the Hariot my Bride ; 
When my belly is full, and with Sack I am drunk, 
Then away I do march whilst they play with my punk. 

This pleases the youngsters that I leave them alone, 
With my wife they can frolique so soon as I 'm gone ; 
And I 'le swear she 's a damnable cunning young Jade, 
For without store of Guinneys she scorus for to trade. 

I am a rich Cuckold, and 't is known all about, 

My Horns are so full that the Gold doth run out ; [Picturs. 

Broad-pieces and Guineas come tumbling in, 

And to give them a welcome I count it no sin. 

If my neighbours cry ' Cuckow ! ' just at my own door, 

And swear that my spouse is a wanton young whore, 

I 'le take them by th' hand, and cry ' Welcome ! ' I trow, 

We needs must be brothers, for we dwell in a row. [Cf. p. 668. 

Then let me advise all those that are wed, 
With patience to bear it if their wives horn their head ; 
A jealous young Coxcomb shall scarce be forgiven, 
But a Cuckold contented goes sure to Heaven. 

A Heaven on earth we do daily enjoy, 

And another when death shall our bodies destroy ; 

There 's none that such happiness ever could find 

As we who are ever contented in mind : 

But a churlish young Cuckold shall ever be poor, 
Whilst we that are willing shall tumble in store. 

jFilttS. With Permission. By R. L'Estrange. 

[Printed for F. Coles, T. Vere, J. Wright, and /. Clark. Wood's copy was 
printed for E. Oliver at the Golden Key on Snow-hill, etc. Two cuts: 1st is 
on the preceding p. clxiv* ; 2nd, vol. iv, p. 472, left. Date, 1675.] 

11 The tune-name of ' The delights of the Bottle'' was mentioned on p. Ixxviii*. 
The two stanzas by Thomas Shadwell, 1G75, were reprinted, with music and 
prolongation, in vol. iv, p. 44. Many were the ' Mock-Songs ' on it. The 
chief woodcut originally bore on the label these, words, " This it is to be 
contented, Brother!'' words erased when the cut was reissued by J. Blare, in 
' The Dyer's Destiny ' (see vol. iv, p. 40o). The original song is on next page. 

clxvi* The Original ' Psyche ' song by Tom Shadwell. 
ftfjc Eriicfttg of tfj£ Battle. 

THe Delights of the Bottle and Charms of good Wine, 
To the power and the pleasures of Love must resign : 
Though the night in the joys of good drinking be past, 
The debauches but till the next morning will last. 
But Love's great debauch is more lasting and strong, 
For that often lasts a man all his life long. 

Love and Wine are the bonds that fasten us all ; 

The World, but for these, to confusion would fall : 

Were it not for the pleasures of Love and good Wine, 

Mankind for each trifle their lives would resign : 

They'd not value dull life, nor could live without thinking, 
Nor would Kings rule the world, but for love and good drinking. 

By Thomas Shadwell, in Psyche, 1675. 

Thomas Duffet mocked it, by the licentious song beginning " The delights 
of the Bottle and charms of a Drab," sung in ' Psyche Debauched? 1678. 

That the race of ' Contented ' wittols or ' Rich flourishing Cuckolds ' was not 
extiuct in 1 8 1 3, was deftly shewn in ' Le Senateur ' by Beranger, ' beginning thus : 

" Mon epouse fait ma gloire : Rose a de si jolis yeux ! 
Je lui dois, Ton peut m'en croire, un Ami bien precieux." — K. T. A. 

"We have seen on p. lxxxii*** 'An easy way to tame a Shrew.' 

Another way, 'The Woman Outwitted,' is in vol. vii, p. 190 : a late version 
of twofold story of ' a Weaver's Wife cunningly catch'd in a Trap by her 
husband, who sold her for ten pounds, and sent her to Virginny. ' The Raw I in son 
original has seventeen stanzas, and is believed to be unique. It is entitled, ' A 
Net for a Night-Raven; or, A Trap for a Scold.' The tune is Let u* to 

Virginny go. Begins, " Here is a merry song, if that you please to buy it." 

He entraps her on board a vessel " to see him off," after he had sold her for 
ten pounds — she fetches five times the sum, when she reaches Virginny, seven 
weeks later : at good profit to the merchant, who " as a maiden sold her, for fifty 
pounds in money, and she another husband got, when she came to Virginny." 

The Weaver, quieted, is nicknamed " a merchant of Virginny." The motto is : 

" My honest friends, if you the way would know 
How to be quiet from a scolding Shrow, 
And to get money now in these hard times, 
Then pray give ear, and listen to these rhymes." 

We ' hark hack ' to a notorious case of mistaken identity, where 
an unfaithful husband who had plotted evil "was deceived in the 
dark." It belongs to the old French Fabliaux, as shewn on pp. 475, 
476 : whereby the Husband makes himself his own Cuckold. 

One version of the tale has been given in Bag ford Ballads, p. 530, ' The 
Unfortunate Miller,' beginning, " All you that desire to hear of a jest." It is of 
date 1685. The earlier version of it here follows, named 'A Cuckold by 
Consent.' The same incident is related elsewhere in vol. viii, pp. 477, 479, 
'The Westminster Frolic ' and 'The Wanton Vintner.' It needed the present 
ballad to complete the fourfold history of a night's misadventures. Jack's gift of 
the Ram was a bribe of evil augury. Such revelations were common enough 
among the saintly elect. Many doubt that Master Ford, of Windsor, escaped 
from wearing the ' Bull's-Feather ': when his jealous pate ached again. 

[Pepys Collection, IV, 124 ; Itawlinson, 066, fol. 172.] 

a euckoltJ ty Consent; or, 

The Frollick Miller that inticed a Maid, 
As he did think, to lodge in his lawless bed ; 
But she deceived him of his intent, 
And in her room his Wife to bed she sent. 

The Tune is, The Bed's making. [See pp. 259, 572, 850.] 

Friends, will it please you to hear me tell of a merry jest that late befell, 
15y as good a Miller as ever laid stone, yet was not contented with his own : 
But he was deceived in the dark, 
And took his own for another" 1 s mark. 

Upon a time it chanced so, a proper Maid to the Mill did go, 
To grind her father a batch of corn : the Miller's heart with her did burn : 
Yet he ivas deceived in the dark, etc. [Passim. 

And to obtain his purpose right, he caused the Maid to stay all ni^ht, 
And said it would be almost morn before that he could grind her Com, 

So when the day was done aud spent, Home to his house the Miller went ; 
He took the Maid with him along, to whom he thus did use his tongue : 

" Sweet-heart," quoth he, " I tall thee now, that I have made a secret vow, 
That I this night will lye with thee, and thou shalt have thy Grist Toll-free. 

" At home I have a special room, where noue but my chief guests do come, 
Thy lodging there alone shall be, aud I will come to bed to thee. 

" Sweet soul, I pray thee be content ! with Maidens silence is consent : 
It is no purpose to say No, for I have sworn it shall be so." 

Then to his wife the Miller said : "I pray thee make much of this Maid, 
And lodge her in the Parlor below, for she 's a good man's child, I know." 

So to the Mill again he went, but to return was his intent, 

For to perform what he had swore, unto the Maid, not long before. 

Then shortly after he was gone, unto his Wife the Maid made known ; 
Quoth she : " Your husband hath this night sworn to deprive you of your right. 

" Unto your lodging let me go, and lye yourself in the room below : 

If in the Parlor bed you be, he '11 lye with you, and think 't is me." So he, etc. 

His Wife, considering of the thing, to her own bed the Maid did bring ; 
And, for to have the thing, you know, she laid her[self] in the room below. 

Then towards the mid-time of the night, the Miller came to the Chamber right, 
His promise which he made to keep, and he thought he found the Maid asleop, 
But he was deceived in the dark, etc. 

For joy the Miller nothing said, but off with his cloaths and into bed, 
And, colours in the dark being 'like, he at his work did briefly strike. 

His Wife speaks not a word at all, but took all kindly that would fall, 
And that did prove so good a part, she thankt the Maid with all her heart. 

The Miller out of bed again, and to the Mill he went amain ; 

But in his mind he was almost wild, for fear he had got the Maid with child. 

He did devise to cause the mother to father the child upon another, 
And, pausing on the thing awhile, his man he thought for to beguile. 

clxviii* The Frolic Miller that enticed a Maid. 

With that he cast his wits about, to work the project past all doubt, 
Then (with all wisdom ou this wise) he told his man of a dainty prize. 

" Jack " (quoth the Miller), " by the Mass ! I 'le tell thee of a curious Lass, 
With a cherry cheek, and a dainty chin, with snow-white breasts, & a silken skin ; 

" With nut-brown hair, and a forehead high, with Ruby lips, and a pleasant eye ; 
With a pretty lisping prattling tongue, soft hands, and fingers small and long ; 

" With a slender middle, & a body straight; both back & belly proportion'd right; 
With a handsome leg, and a dainty foot, and finer than all if thou can'st do o' 't. 

" And Jack, if thou wilt credit me, a sweeter wench thou ne'er did'st see ; [fill." 
What wilt thou give me for my good will? and thou shalt have belly-bait thy 

" It is?" quoth the Miller. Then quoth his man, " Good master, do the best 
you can 
To bring it about, and for the same I 'le give unto you my old Ram." 

" A match ! " quoth the Miller, " the Ram is mine ; and then the Wench she 
shall be thine ! " 
And so the Miller, like an Ass, sent him to his wife instead of the Lass. 

When Jack did come where she did lye, into the bed then Jack did hye ; 
You know so well, I need not name what Jack would do unto his Dame. 

When Jack had finisht up his game, unto the Miller he went amain, 

He thank't his Master, and to him swore, that he never had such sport before. 

Betimes i' th' morning the Maid arose, and to the Miller straight she goes ; 
Her horse she ready sadled found, beside her corn was Toll-free ground. 

The Miller then desired the Maid that she would remember the Parlor bed. 
Quoth she : "Good Sir, you are deceiv'd ; you kist your [own] wife in my stead, 
And you were deceived in the dark,'''' etc. 

" Alas ! " quo. the Miller, " what shall I do ? for then our Jack hath been there too. 
And for this trick a vow I make, I 'le never trust Maid for thy sake." 
But he was deceived in the dark, 
And took his own for another's mark. 

[Rawlinson's : Printed for F. Coles, T. Yere, and /. Wright; Pepysian for /. W., 
J. C, W.Th.,T.P. Black-letter. Woodcut on p. exxviii*. Date, circa 1674.] 
It was befitting that this earlier version of the wanton miller's misadventures 
should be given here, to admit of comparison with 'The Unfortunate Miller' 
of ten years' later date, 1685 (Bat/ford Jiallads, p. 530) : " All you that desire." 
See also vol. viii (First Division), pp. 475-480, 'The Westminster Frolic' 
and ' The Wanton Vintner.' In all four versions, retribution swiftly follows the 
premeditation of sin ; no need that " prudish readers should grow skittish." 

U In vol. vii, p. 429, was quoted another Rawlinson ditty (4to. , 566, f«l. 14) : 
' She is Boitnd, but won't Obey ; or, The Married Man's Complaint in 
choosing a Wife, desiring other Young-men to have a care and to look before 
they leap.' To the tune of The West-Country delight. Woodcut of Shrew 
wielding her ladle (vol. vii, p. 188). He says, " good Wife!" She, " Out, 
linyuc! spend thy money.'" A duplicate is in Wood's Coll., 5^, circa 1674. The 
tune {Popular Music, p. 543) is named also Hey for Zommerset-shire ! beginning, 
" In Summer-time, when flowers do spring " : burden is, Caper andfirk it. 

' She is Bound, but icon t Obey? clxix* 

I Am a poor Married-man truly, and I lead a weary life, 
As I will plainly here declare, by marrying with a Wife ; 
At bed and board, still word for word, she '11 give me two for one ; 
You Married-men and Batchelors, come listen to my Song. 
I was a Batckelor void of care, and I had a good estate, 
And I, forsooth, must presently go seek me out a Mate ; 
Which at the last, unto my cost, I light on such a one, 
Search all the Couutry round about the like is not agen. 

Now I will plainly here declare, unto your open view, 
And if that I were put to my oath, I 'le swear that it is true : 
Then give good ear, while I declare the wicked weary life 
Which I sustain both night and day, by marrying wiih a Wife. 

Each morning I must rise betimes, to make my wife a fire, 
And, alas ! make her a posset too, if it be her desire. 

Then up she '1 get at teu a clock, whether it be day or no, 

Fray which of all you women-kind are us 1 d for to do so ? 

4 Nd when that she is up aud drest, to the Ale-house she will trot, 
_Q And there she '1 stay, and be as drunk as ever was a Rot : 
With pipe and pot she will slick to 't, while she can stand or go, 
Pray which of all you women-kind are us" 1 d for to do so ? 

But when that she is drunk come home, she '1 put me in such fears, 
She '1 pull my nose, and pinch my arms, and wring me by the ears : 
By the hair of the head, out of the bed, she '1 pull me on the floor, 
And when that I have turn'd my back, she's given to play the w.o.e. 

She '1 call me Cuckold to my face, and I cannot it deny, 
But yet I know in our Town, there 's more as well as I ; 

There 's neighbour John, an honest man ; but what if that he be, 

lie may dry clouts upon his horns, as well as thee or me. 

I dare not in the Ale-house peep, no not for both my ears, 

But she will presently after creep, and put me in such fears ; 
With the i'la^on lid, upon my head, she '1 ring me such a peel, 
I think in heart that she is worse than all the devils in hell. 

I must be man and Maid at home, and do the work within, 
And when that I have made the Cheese I must sit down and spin : 
Which grieves me to the very heart to think of the weary life 
Which I sustain both night and day, by marrying with a Wife. 

Aud when that she at supper sits, I must stand looking on, 

And after she hath eat the meat then I must pick the bone : 
1 cannot have one bit of bread, but what she doth me cut, 
And yet I 'le swear, both day and night she keeps me hard at work. 

What course to take I cannot tell, I lead such a weary life, 

That I could e'en find in my heart to hang me with my knife ; 
Or else go put on a clean-shirt, and drown me immediately : 
That all young men both far and near may example take by me. 

You Batchelors all, both great and small, example take by me, 

And when you look these lines upon, think on my misery ; 
And also look before you leap, for fear you catch a fall : 
If your wives prove no better than mine, I would they were buried all. 

You Married-men that have good wives, I would wish you make much on them, 

Aud also see in any wise you do not seek to wrong them ; 

For a (Jood Wife, upon my life, is worth both Gold and Pearl, 

And happy is that Married-man that lights on such a Girl. jfilllS. 

Printed for F. Coles, T. Vere, J. Wright, and /. Clarke. With Allowance. 

•**U'' , 'U l "m'' 'HI' ''II' *'l|'' 'II'' ''II 1 ' ''ll'"'ll' "'IIF 'IU' 

clxx* "Who list to lead a Soldier's life ?" 

II Page xxx*** of our Introduction to Vol. Eight should have held the 
complete first stanza of "Gallants, all come mourne with me!" Compare 
p. 758, Additional Notes to Vol. VII, where this tune-name is mentioned, for 
Edward White's ' Petigree of King James the First of England' (registered 
11 June, 1603). Robert Hassall's ' Lamentable Mone of a Soldier for the losse 
of his derely beloued Lorde,' is dated ' 1601,' and begins thus : — 

" r\ Allants, all come mourne with me [MS., 16 stanzas. 

VJT For youre Knight of Chivalry. 
Souldiers, all come traile your pikes, 
Let trieklinge teares run downe your cheekes ; 
For he is gone that was your Frende, 
TJntymely death hath wroughte his ende. 

Oh hone, hononorero hononorero, 

Terararero, Terararero, hone." 

A similar burden on p. 758, Hone, honinoneero, tarrarararra tarraarcerahonc. 

The earliest date in the MS. vol. is " xxviii die junij : 1591 : Robert Hassall." 
His ballad, marked 1601, could scarcely be identical with the later-dated ballad 
of 1606, entitled ' The Souldier's Lamentacon for the Deathe of the honourable- 
minded man the Lord MOUNTJOY' 1 (cf. Introduction to vol. viii, p. xiv***). 

We turn to a different sort of Soldier, circa. 1638. He is a man of musical 
and amatory tendencies ; not usually a safe guide by land or sea to his innumerable 
Peggies, when they chanced to ' lose their way.' They were seldom coy, being 
in Rosalind's "holiday humour, and like enough to consent." 

' leggy and the Souldier ' had many distinct ballads. One held the tune cited 
on p. 859, laugh and Lie down. Another (tune, Ogle of Barley) began thus : 
"Not long agone, walking alone." The witty pretty Damosel to a Souldier 
often made this answer: " I dare not do no more than the back of your hand, Sir." 

[Rawlinson Collection, 4to., 566, fol. 67, mutilated ; Pepys, IV, 41.] 

Cfrc J13igl)tmgalc\s ^ong; ©r, 

2T(je 5oultiicr'9 rare irHust'ck, ant) fEatti's Eecreatian. 

This song adviseth Maidens to have a care, 

And of Souldier's Snap-sacks to beware. [ = Knapsacks. 

Tune is, No, no, no, not I [vol. iii, 42 : April, 1636] ; or, Tegg and the Souldier. 

AS I went forth, one Sun-shining day, 
A dainty young couple were gathering May : 
The one a fair Damosel of beauty most clear, 
The other a Souldier, as it doth appear. 

With kisses and compliments to her he said : 
" Good-morrow, sweet Honey, thou well-favour'd Maid ! 
I think myself happy I met with you here, 
As you are a Virgin, and I a Souldier. 

" And now, if you pleased be, I will you bring 

Whereas you shall hear the sweet Nightingale sing ; 

With other rare pastimes my skill shall be try'd, 

If you will walk with me to the merry greenwood side." 

" Sweet Sir " (said the Damosel), " if you will do so, 
Then hand in hand with you along 1 will go. 
It is Recreation for Maids in the Spring 
To see flowers grow and hear Nightingales sing." 

The Nightingale's Song. clxxi* 

And having thus spoken, together they went 

Unto a merry Green-wood, where some time they spent 

In walking, and talking of many an odd thing, 

But yet could not. hear the Nightingale sing. 

A dainty clear River was running therehy, 

A bank of sweet violets and primroses nigh ; 

Then said the voung Gallant, " Sit down by the spring 1 , 

We '1 here take our pleasure till the Nightingale sing." 

The Maid seem'd unwilling, and said she'd be gone, 
And yet she was loath for to leave him alone ; 
At last she resolved her self to this thing, 
To stay till they heard the sweet Nightingale sing. 

Amongst the sweet flowers they straightway sat down, 

The young man in kindness gave her a green-gown ; [p. 689. 

He also presented to her a gold Ring, 

'Cause she should stay to hear th' sweet Nightingale sing. 

And having thus done, he took her about the middle, 
And forth of his Knapsack he pull'd a rave fiddle, 
And play'd her a fit, made the valleys to ring : 
" now" (quoth she) " I hear the Nightingale sing." 

" Then now," said the Souldier, " 't is time to give o'er." 
" Nay, prethee " (quoth she), " play me one lesson more : 

I like both the setting and tuning the string, 

Far better than hearing the Nightingale sing." 

He struck up his Musick vnto a high strain, 
And plai'd the tune over, again and again : 
" Gramercy, brave Souldier ! " (quoth she) " that did'st bring 
Me hither, to hear the rare Nightingale sing." 

Their sport being ended, then homewards they went, 
Each one thought the time to be very well spent : 
" It was" (quoth the Damosel) " a very rare thing, 

Whilst thou plaid' st thy part, to hear th' Nightingale sing." 

At last, with a deep sigh, these words spake she : 
" I pray thee, good Souldier, wilt thou marry me ? 
Else my hasty pleasure sweet sorrows will bring, 
And I may repent I heard the Nightingale sing." 

" Oh no," quoth the Souldier, " I may not do so, 
Along with my Captain to-morrow I must go ; 
But if I come this way again the next Spring, 
We '11 walk once more to hear the Nightingale sing." 

" You Maids of the City, and Country, that be 
Addicted to pleasure, take warning by me : 
Let no flattering Young-men tempt ye to this thing, 
To go to the wood to hear the Nightingale sing. 

" Make bargain beforehand, for fear you miscarry, 
Know whether or no they are minded to Marry : 
If I had been wise, and had done such a thing, 
I need not repent I heard the Nightingale sing." [R. Clymsall ? 

Printed for /. Wright, J. Clark, W. Thackeray, and T. Passenger. 

[No record is here that ' Peggy 's gone over the Seas with a Souldier.' 1 Cf. vol. vii, 
pp. 546, 550, ' Valiant Virgin,' and " My Love, I come to take my leave."] 

clxxii* The North-Country Law, that had lout her way. 

On p. lxxxvii* was named the tune of The Maid that had lost her way. Of 
this important ballad six stanzas were given on p. lxxxviii* (the 1st, 2nd, 14th, 
16th, 16th, and 17th only). We now add the remainder. It began thus : — 

Within the North -Country, as true report doth yeild, 
There stands an ancient country town is called merry Wakefield. 
"Within this Country town, a lively lass doth dwell, 
She goes unto the Market her h'uswifery to sell. 

And walking all alone, upon a certain day, 

For to be short, it so fell out, this fair maid lost her way. 

So wand'ring all alone, upon the hill so high, 

At last it was her lucky chance a Shepheard for to spy : 

[fie) was sitting all alone upon the mountain top, 

Singing bravely under a bush, and viewing of his flock. 

To him this fair maiden hyed, and over the hill crost : 

That he might put her in the way which she so long had lost. 

So walking thus apace, at length she came him nigh, 
Whereas he sat under a bush, and did him curtesie. 
" God speed, Shepheard," she said, " Merry days to thee God send ! 
I am undone, Shepheard," she said, " if you stand not my friend. 
I am going now," quoth she, "unto yon market towne, 
But by mischance have lost my way, upon this hilly downe. 
1 wand'ring here have beene e'ere since 't was break of day ; 
Yet could I never finde which was to mee the nearest way." 


pile Shepheard then reply'd, " Faire maid, sit downe a while, 
And I 'le shew you the nearest way, at least by half a mile." 
" no, Shepheard ! " she said, " if I should stay here long, 

I should not reach the market town, till all the market 's done." 
" Feare not ! " the Shepherd said, " but sit thou on this grass, 
For thou shalt hear my Bagpipes goe, before thou further pass." 

[Here follow the stanzas given on p. lxxxviii* : " So downe the Maiden sate."] 

" Farewel, Shepheard ! " she said, " adieu, nay, twice adieu ; 
If e're I chance to loose my way, I 'le come again to you." 
The Shepherd then reply'd : "0 no, O no, not so ; 
You shall taste some of my brown beer, e're that you further go ; 
And some of my white loaf, and some of my green cheese." 

" If 1 should stay," the Maid reply'd, " the Market I should leese : 
And then my Dame" (quoth she) " will storm, and swear, and frown, 
]f 1 sell not my h'uswifery before that I come home." 

" What is your h'uswifery? fair Maiden, shew to me ! " 

" Two pair of stockings," she reply'd ; " come buy them now of me." 

" What is the price," quoth he, " of this your h'uswifery ? " 

" Half a Crown," the Maiden said. " Hold, take ! here is thy money." 

The Lass she was so glad, her h'uswifery was sold ; 
" To stay longer, Shepherd," she said, " I dare be somewhat bold." 
So down she sate again, untill the day was spent : 
And he had folded up his sheep, then both together went 
Each to his severall home : where what became of them 
1 doe not know, and therefore now here will I stay my pen. JllUS. 
Printed at London for H. Gosson. 

[Black-letter. Two woodcuts: 1st, the Bagpiper, in Bat/ford Ballads, p. 217; 
2nd, the merry Wideawakefield girl, vol. vii, p. 29. Date, circa 1640.] 


To the same tune (Within the North-country : the Loss that lost her way) they 
sang- this ballad (see p. lxxxvii*), with its varying burden, Let Father angry be. 

C6e a^crrp apin of e^ttitJlcscr ; 


A pretty Song made by a pretty Maid, 
Which had seven suitors, she herself so said, 
And yet (poor soul) she hath been strangely crost, 
And through her Mother's means her sweet-hearts lost; 
But yet she is resolved in this Sonnet 
To have a Husband, whatsoe're comes on it. 
To a dilicate [sic] Northern Tune ; or, The Maid that lost her way. 

IT was not long agone, since Cupid with his Dart 
Shot through my tender skin, and prickt my love-sick heart. 
And since that desperate time I am so love-sick grown, 
I neither can nor will no longer lye alone : 

Let Father angry be, let Mother brawl and chide, 
A Husband L ivill have, what ever me betide. 

It is well known that I am fifteen years of age, 
Yet live as weary a life as a Bird penn'd in a Cage. 
Therefore, young-men, I pray, give ear unto my Song, 
And you shall know in what my parents did me wrong. 
Bat now let Father frown, etc. 

Seven suitors in one day unto me came a wooing, 
And every one of them would fain with me be doing : 
First Will the Weaver came, with Silks and Ribands brave, 
And out of his pure love these Tokens to me gave. 
Let Father fret and frown, etc. 

Full many a hurried kisse the Weaver did me give 
Which whs enough to make a dying maid to live ; 
But yet my Parents would not give me their consent, 
That I should marry with him : which makes me to lament. 
But now let Father frown, let Mother brawl, etc. 

(Efje SccantJ Part, to the same Tune. 

NExt Tom the Taylor trim, he brought me a brave new Gown, 
And would have gave it me, for to have laid me down. 
My Mother, standing by, would not thereto agree, 
Whereby I did both lose my gown and sweet-heart • Woe is me ! 
But now let Father frown, let Mother brawl and chide, 
A Husband L will have, what ever me betide. 

Then Sam the Shoemaker brought me a pair of Shooes, 
To fit my pretty feet, as he did often use : 
But at the drawing on, his hand by chance did slip, 
Which made my Mother frown, and rarely bite the lip. 
But now let Father yiieve, etc. 

George Glover he gave me a pair of dainty gloves, 

Such as your bravest batchelors do use to giv<! their Loves ; 

And therewithal, kind heart, he kist me tenderly ; 

And then my Mother she did soon break up our company. 

clxxiv* The Longing Maid, who got a Crooked Stick at last. 

There came a bonny Lad, a Vintner neat aud fine, 
And in his hand lie brought a bottle of Muskadine. 
And bade me for to drink as long as I could pull : 
For he bad an intent to till my belly full. 

At which my Mother she began to frown and chide, Yet I, etc. 

A nimble Tapster next gave me a gay gold Ring, 

And promised to bestow on me a better thing ; 

But in the bringing he had wonderous ill-luck, 

My Mother she did chance to see, and would not let us truck. 

Then came a noble spark, a Smildier stout and bold, 
And quickly cast into my lap full seven -score pound in gold ; 
he was a brave Young-man, I lov'd him as my life ; 
And yet my Mother she would not now let me be his Wife. 

The Cobler [Sam,'] poor Lad, fell sick, and needs must dye, [' he.' 

Except my Love would grant him love as a remedy. 

" Cooler ! " my Mother said, " you have of late been dipt ; 

Before you shall my daughter have I 'le see you soundly whipt." 

A Maiden-head it is a load too heavy for me to carry, 
Therefore I will make all the speed that ever I can to marry. 
No matter for his wealth, nor trade, what e'er it be, 
For I will dearly love the Man, if he could fancy me. 

So now you know my mind, although my Mather chide, 

A Husband I must have, what ever me betide. jjriui6» 

London, Printed by E. Crowch, for F. Coles, T. Vere, and/. Wright. 

[Black-letter. Five cuts : two women, vol. vi, pp. 329, 582. Date, 1656-74.] 

II Another ' Longing Maid ' was probably by L. White, circd 1698, or earlier. 

rpilere was a Maid the other day that sighed sore, God wot ! 
J. And said that wives might sport and play, but maidens they might not. 
" Full fifteen years I lived" (she said), " poor soul ! since I was born, 
And if I chance to die a Maid, Apollo is forsworn 

Oh, oh, oh, for a Husband / " (still this was her song) ; 

" I will have a husband ! will have a husband, husband old or young." 

An ancient Suitor to her came, his head was almost gray, 

Though he was old yet she was young, and would no longer stay : 

But to her Mother went the Maid, and told her presently 

That she a Husband needs must have, and thus began to cry : "Oh, oh, oh /" etc. 

She had not been a wedded Wife one quarter of a Year, 

But she was weary of her life, aud grew unto a Jeer : 

For the Old Man lay by her side, he could nought but sigh and groan ; 

Did ever woman so abide ? 't were better to lie alone. 

" Oh, oh, oh ! with a Husband, what a life lead I ! 

Out upon a husband, such a husband, a husband? fie, fie, fie V 

" To be a wedded wife " (she said), " a twelvemonth is too long ; 

As I have been, poor soul ! " (she said), " that am both fair and young, 

When other wives may have their will, that are not like to me : [p. lxxxii*. 

I mean to go and try my skill, and find some remedy. 

Oh, oh, oh ! with a husband, what a life lead I ! 

Out upon a husband, such a husband, a husband? fie, fie, fie .'" 

Final Recoveries from the Oriel College MS. clxxv* 

3 Kfiapsotm, 

NOw I confess I am in Love, [ p . C i*. 

Although 1 thought I never should ; 
But 'tis with one dropt from above, 
Whom Nature made of better mould : 
So faire, so good, so all divine, 
I 'de quit the world to make her mine. [ MS. ' I 'le.' 

Did not you see the Stars retreat, Va.l. 1 Have you 

When Sol salutes the Hemispheres ? L not seen -' 
So shrink the Beauties we call great, 

When sweet Roscilla she appears : FQf. Wotton's 

Were she as other Women are _ L" Ye meaner." 
I should not love her, nor despaire. 

But I could never beare a minde 

Willing to stoop to common faces, 
Nor confidence enough could finde 
To aime at one so full of graces. 
Fortune and Nature did agree 
No woman should be fitt for me. [a./. ' wed by.' 

an OBpitFjalammm tipon tbe jftuptialls ant) jftame 

of f-flr. Emira-D Tooke, 55sq., anti fjfa fjortourcrj ISriut. 

Etemitie and hearten, two royall guests, 

Shake hands with Love, lodged in two married breasts. 
Divine was the Conjunction where two hearts 

Vnited sing one mariiage Song in parts : 
Made blest by prosperous heauen, till they on high 

Shall wedd again and kisse Eternitie. 
Vpon this rocke may you securely stand, 

And gain the blessings of this Suffering Land. 
Nulling all pristine cares, that here no feares, 

Nor ought that 's ill may blast your tender yeares. 
Delighted thus, may heau'n and earth shower down 

New ioyes on you each day, and those ioyes crown, 
That times to come may see you in your Loves 

Appear more chast[e] than vnpolluted doves : 
Ordayn'd by happie fate, that heere you may 

All your whole Life make one sole wedding day. 
may your blisse encrease, and may you bee 

Blest with a high and full felicitie, 
Keeping detractors dumb, while heauen shall breede [' bride.' 

In you more joy than all the world beside. 
Espoused thus, may you with full successe 

On poles of grace display your happinesse, 

Held vp by all those powers which ascend, 

Numb'ring your Blessings, which shall know no end. 

clxxvi* Boxburghe and Bag ford ' Inseparable Brothers.' 

So the world went on marrying and giving in marriage, but with less frequency, 
amid all the grievances and tyrannies of the too Long Parliament. 

The miscellaneous character of the Roxburghe Collection of Ballads made 
students neglect its importance politically and historically. Mr. Wm. Chappell 
cared little for any that did not illustrate the Papular Music of the Oldm 'lime. 
He left the political ballads to his chosen successor, who has given them all. 
Hereafter, as a revelation of the Stuart days, both socially and historically, the 
Jioxb. must be found valuable. It numbers 8,162 pp. (when conjoined with 
the earlier completed Bagford Bal/ads= 1,27-1 pp.) : lloxb. alone, 6,888 pp. 8vo. 

One firm friend of the Editor, Miss J. H. L. de V., of Updown, Thauet, 
generously quotes, as being applicable to our Boxburghe and Bagford Ballads, 
what 'the Gleeman narrated,' in Arthur Gerald Geos-haii's dramatic poem, 
' The Monks of £ilcrea.' (Not published complete until 1861 : begun in 1845.) 

" ' Many a lay and ballad gay, many a song have I, 
Which I have play'd to youth and maid, to lords and ladies high : 
Legends old, of Chivalry, loved by knights of proud degree ; 
Hunting-chimes, for groom and squire, wheu they sit by winter fire ; 
Jolly Trolls for yeomen stout, as they shove the Ale about. 

Carols light for wanton page, 

Lulls for childhood, Chants for age ; [= Lullabies. 

Lauds for clerics, Keens for woe : 

With Roundelays and clinks also, \_Cannahin- Clinic 

But some, mayhap, too scant of grace 

To suit this holy time and place ' 
(Here the Glee-man donned a decent face, 
And seized the wine-pot, and then quaft, 
With modest zeal, a goodly draught)." — The Monks of Kilerca. 

Note. — "Eilcrea Abbey, county Cork, was dedicated to St. Bridget, and founded 
A.b. 1465, by Cormac, Lord of Muskerry ; its monks belonged to the Franciscan 
Order, commonly called ' Grey Friars.' In the present day its ruins are extensive, 
and though considerably mutilated by Cromwell, tuho stabled a troop of horse in its 
refectory, are still both picturesque and interesting." — Irish Annals; quoted by 
the Hon. Charles Gavan Duffy in 39th edition of his excellent Ballad Poetry of 
Ireland, p. 207, 1866. The original ' Monks of Kilcrea,' Fytte I, began thus: — 

" Three monks sat by a bogwood fire ! 

Bare were their crowns, and their garments grey ; 
Close they sat to that bogwood fire, 

Watching the wicket till break of day ; 

Such was ever the rule at Kilcrea. 
For whoever passed, be he Baron or Squire, 

Was free to call at that abbey, and stay, 

Nor guerdon, nor hire for his lodging pay, 
Tho' he tarried a week with its holy choir ! " 

<£n&0 prefatocp i]2otc of tfie J^inal SMtnoion : 

Utttualljj Uolume Rtntfj. 

Joseph Woodfall Ebsworth. 
The Priory, AbHroitD, Kent, 189S. 




iRortmrgbe 'Balia&s 


(Gotham Tale-piece: see pp. cxxviii*, and 747, Add. Notes.) 

<?TILL the ' Wise Man of Gotham ' rules, who sought 
*~^ To hedge-round the pert Cuckoo, when she thought 

To flee away to other londes betymes 
( The portraicture of both was deftly wrought). 

Meseems we have few better Tales, e'en now, 
Than those they told of yore : when the worn brow 

By toil grew furrowed , then light sportive rhymes 
Were gladly hailed, at council-board and plough. 

' Too quickly flit from us the songs of Spring ; 
Youth lingers not ; Love fades ! ' our small bards sing. 

Would they detain each guest ? poor silly mimes ! 
Relentless ds the Cuckoo, Joy takes wing. 

Vain murmurers ! We keep the childlike trust 
That welcometh all good gifts, that deemeth just 

Tli award apportioned in our varying climes ; 
Fearless, although the end be 'Dust to Dust!' 

Second Division, Pref. Note. 




" "When the rich carpet is soiled the fool pointeth to the stain ; 
The wise man covers it with his foot." — The Talisman, cap. xviii. 

THANKS to unremitting attention, throughout twenty years, and the able 
assistance generously given by a succession of excellent Press -Readers, 
the Errata in our ' Roxburghe Ballads' have been few. In breaking up 
new ground uncertainty lingered, regarding dates, authorship, or variations. 
Temporary omissions have been supplied in '■Additional Notes,' on pp. 800-882. 
The worst error ever yet passed was a misprint, " cruel Fate !" instead of 
" cruel Fair ! " in ' Cromlet's Lilt ' on p. 396 of vol. vii. 

Introduction, p. x***. — ' Memory Woodfall ' (according to Mr. A. Hall, of 
27, Stavordale Road, Highbury, N.) was William ; died in 1803, younger brother 
of Henry Sampson Woodfall ; died 12 Dec, 1805, "the celebrated publisher of 
the Letters of Junius." (See Chelsea tombstone in The Sketch, No. 307, p. 283 ; 
vol. xiv.) With Macaulay, we accept Sir Philip Francis as the true Junius. 


rilHe varying impulses of Queen Anne, beset by intriguers of the 
J. Anti-Jacobite "Whig faction and by tbe emissaries of her 
acknowledged brother James, were those of a weak double-dealing 
woman. The pertinacity of the ' Princess-Palatine of the Phine,' 
tbe Electress Sophia, imperilled her own claim. It is proved by the 
Poyal letter addressed to her, beginning, "Madam, Sister, Aunt." 

" These transactions gave great offence to the Queen, whose mind had long 
vacillated between a wish to relieve her conscience from a load of ingratitude 
to her injured father, and what she considered her duty to God and the nation 
[i e. ' The Protestant Succession ' politic compromise]. To her last moment 
it is believed that she sincerely wished for the restoration of her brother, while 
all her public conduct and royal declarations held forth a very different language. 
But the idea of having a prince of the house she so thoroughly detested near her 
person, was a subject to her, of all others, the most distressing." — Annals of 
the House of Hanover. (CollecteJ by Sir Andrew Ilalliday, 1826, vol. ii, p. 538.) 

Text, vol. viii, p. 240. — Lines are quoted from Tom D'Orfey's song in ridicule 
of Sophia, Dowager Electress of Hanover. Bishop White Kennet restores the 
earlier portion and date : — "Nov. 24, 1713. A letter from a lady at Windsor, 
that Tom I) 1 Urfey had been several days dancing about Court, and was at last 
admitted to the honour of presenting a song to the Queen upon Her Majesty's 
vigorous state of health and prospect of long life : wherein he told the Princess 
Sophia there was no hope of her succession. These lines, among others : — ■ 

' ' ' GTay, mind your German nation ! [Hanover. 

O Never thiuk of our Succession : 

Our Crown is too weighty 

For your [shoulders] of Eighty ; 
They could not sustain such a Trophy. 

Her hand too, already, 

Has grown so unsteady, 

She can't hold a Sceptre, 

So Providence kept her 
Away : poor old Dowager Sophy! ' 

" And that for his good manners he [i.e. B^Urfey] had a token of fifty 
guineas." — The Wisdom of Looking Backward, p. 320, 1715. By W. Kennet. 

" Whom they once called the good Queen Anne ? " clxxix* 

The Princess Sophia, indignant at being forbidden to reside in England, died 
on the next 8 June, 1714, to the satisfaction of Queen Anne, who was to die 
seven weeks later, on the 1st of August. The Whigs around her deathbed had 
laid their plans to secure a Protestant triumph, and defeat the claim of the 
Chevalier de St. George. As Paracelsus was made to say, in 1835 : 

" TT7 E get so near — so very, very near ! 

W 'T is an old tale : Jove strikes the Titans down, 
Not when they set about their mountain-piling, 
But when another rock would crown the work. 
And Phaeton, doubtless his first radiant plunge 
Astonished mortals, though the Gods were calm, 
And Jove prepared his thunder : all old tales ! " 

It is evident that Anne, who was nervous and superstitious, 
held an intermittent conscience of remorse for her connivance 
with her ungenerous sister Mary, ' Tidlia? (See vol. vii, p. 716.) 
She felt lonely in her false position : the loss of all her children 
weighing on her — as Mary had been cursed with sterility. They 
were the Goneril and Regan of their day. Each might complain : 
" Nought's had, all 's spent, where our desire is got without content." 

" Better be with the dead, whom we to gain our place have sent to peace, 
Than on the torture of the mind to lie in restless ecstasy." 

It was as ' the toss of a coin ' how the choice fell at Anne's last 
moment. To the tricksters who surrounded her, failure meant 
total ruin if she decided in favour of her brother, 'James III.' 

From the very day of his birth he had been assailed by calumny 
as a supposititious child. His future success was imperilled by 
treachery of his sisters and their allies. His legitimate claims 
were recognized by brave and stalwart men, by women chaste and 
devout. But hireling spies betrayed to his enemies every move- 
ment of his loyal adherents. His own imprudence weakened him, 
and no secret was kept. The Jacobite cause was foredoomed to 
failure, and the Stuart race became extinct. ' The White Hose ' 
is cherished in memory. Floreat sempitema ! 

If a momentary triumph had been won for James III at the 
death of Anne in 1714, he could not long have held supreme power. 
Partisan intrigues had undermined everything with treason, or 
paralyzed with vacillation. The nation was not to be trusted to 
support him. Sectarian prejudice and fear of Romanist ascendency 
caused it to be a disloyal rabble. " Things must be as they may ! " 

" They always said, ' Such premature 
Beginnings never could endure ! ' 
So, with a sullen 'All's for best,' 
The land seems settling to its rest." 
' Ourselves are lucky, we opine : 
Much worse befell in 'Forty-nine.' 

clxxx* Final Additions to the Prefatory Note. 

Close of the First Division : Vol. VIII. 

Text. — At pp. 480, 481, we found it convenient to separate the 
bulk of 1,296 pages into First and Second Divisions of vol. viii 
(viz. 624 pp. and 672 pp.). They form respectively vol. viii and 
ix; each with its own distinct Frontispiece, Title-page, 'Contents,' 
and Introduction : that of the Second Division, named ' Prefatory 
Note,' 1 holding 'Restoration BallacW of 1660, with other rarities. 

Vol. IX begins : 

Prefatory Note to Second Division = Yol. ix, p. ix*. — Read : J. W. E.'s own 
total of pp. is 6,052 (pins 26 pp. Additional- Notes and Ballad- Index to vol. iii) ; 
combined of Bagford Ballads (1,274 pp.) and Roxburghe (4,778 pp.). The total 
of Roxburghe (W. C.'s 2,084 plus J. W. E.'s 4,804) = 6,888. Add to tbese 
J. W. E.'s Bagfords, and the sum-total of the triple series is 8,162. Former 
enumerations, made while in progress, are cancelled. 

Prefatory Note, p. xxxvi*. — Law lies a Bleeding. Instead of the words, 
"No early broadside known,'' read, "One early broadside is known." It is 
reprinted on opposite page. By its printed date, " London, 1659," and record of 
the antecedent tune, Love lies a Bleeding (1656, or at latest 1658: seep. 730), 
it confirms our Editorial statement of the chronological sequence: that ' Love ' 
came before ' Law.' It is an earlier and superior text to that of p. xxxvi*. 

On the broadside are four cuts : 1st, an armed Cavalier, looking to his left, 
where his hand is on his heart, broad sword at side, belt over shoulder, right hand 
on thigh, trails a pike ; 2nd, an Official in gown, representative of Law, holding 
a mace (see p. cxciv*, Frontisp. vol. i) ; 3rd, a Soldier, left hand fires a pistol, 
right arm akimbo; 4th, a Horseman and a Pikeman : see p. cxcviii*. 

Finally, compare Text, p. 729. We denounce the common error, although 
shared by the late William Chappell, in Popular Music, 1855, p. 431 : "Love 
lies a Bleeding in imitation of L,aw lies a bleeding.' 1 '' This is exactly contrary to 
the fact: "Love lies a bleeding" being the original, with its own motto: 
" By whose mortal wounds you may soon understand | What sorrow -we suffer 
since Love left the land." ' Love lies a Bleeding ' is given completely here, on 
p. 730, post ; therefore both ballads are convenient for comparison. A later 
parody, or 'Mock-Song,' was sung to this tune, in August, 1684, against Lord 
Shaftesbury, beginning, " Lay by your reason, Truth is out of season," etc. 

Prefatory Note. — Title on p. xxxix* should read ' Epinicia.' 

Prefatory Note. — In p. xcix*, line 38, delete the name of ' Bradshaw.'' 

Additional Notes, p. 749. — Two ballads, injuriously excluded,' The Maid's 
Comfort ' and ' The Merry Cuckold,' with all their woodcuts, can be more 
conveniently studied vivisectionally on pp. exxix* and exxxii*, this Prefatory 
Note to vol. ix virtually cancelling any other reprint of them. We offer no 
apology for the admission of so many ' Cuekolds-all-a-Row ' in this final volume. 
In popular street ballads they were what garlic is in potage a la Francais. 

Additional Notes, p. 758. — First stanza is on Prefatory Note, p. clxx*. 

Additional Notes, p. 863. — ' Auld Robin Gray,' original and sequels: compare 
not only p. 679. See also our appropriate woodcut on p. lxxxii* of Pref. Note. 

Addit. Notes, p. 874. — ' Choice of aNoose': compare Bagford Ballads,]). 896. 

In Ballad -Lndcx, p. 908, sub voce 'Lucina,' read thus: — 
Luciua (" Sweet Lucina, lend thine aid ") t., 650, 794 ; Pref., xlvii*, cxlvii*. 


[Unique Black-letter broadside. "Wood's, 401, fol. 167, verso.] 

ilato lit& a BIccDing, 

Since the Sword hath so much prevail'd of late, rr n earliest 

What troubles and discentions do befall the State ! \_text, only. 

The Tune is, Love lies a Bleeding. [Compare pp. xxxvi*, 730. 

LAy by your Pleading, Law lies a bleeding, 
Bum all your studdies down, and throw away your reading ; 
Small power the word has, and doth afford us 
Not so many priviledges halfe as the Sword does ; 
It foysters your Masters, and plasters Disasters, 
And makes the servants quickly greater th[a]n their masters. 

It venters, it enters, It circles, it centres, 
And makes an Ap'rentice Free in spite of his Indenters. 

This takes down tall things, and sets up small things ; 

This masters mon[e]y too, though mou[e]y masters all things. 

It is not in season for to talk of reason, 

Or call it Loyal when the Sword will have it Treason. 

It conquers the Crown too, the Cloak and the Gown too ; 
This sets up a Presbiter, and pulls him down too. 

The subtle Deceiver turns Bonnet into Beaver, 
Down drops a Bishop and up starts a Weaver. 

&f)e Seccmb Part, to the same Tune. 

THis makes a Layman to Preach and to Pray, man : 
This will make a Lord of him, that was but a Dray-man. [p xcvii*. 
Forth from the dull-pit, of Follies' full-pit, 
This brought an Hebrew Iron-monger unto the Pulpit ; [Ed. Sazby. 

Such pitifull things be, Happier than Kings be ; 
Here comes iu the Heraldrie of Thimble\bee] and Slingsby. [Sir Hg. S. 

No Gospel can guide it, No Law can decide it, 
Either in the Church or State, till the Sword hath Sanctified it. 

Down go your Law-tricks, forth from the Matrix 

Sprung holy Ruson's power, and tumbled down Saint Patrick's. [Hews m's. 

The Sword did prevail so mightily in Wales too, 

Shinkin ap Powel cries and swears ' Cuds-plu-ter-nails ' too. 

In Scotland this waster did breed such disaster, 
[Tha]t they brought their money back, for which they sold their Master. 

They battered my Gun-dock, and so they did my Dum-Fork, [Don firk. 
That he is fled and swears that the Devil is in Dunkerk. 

He that can tower over him that is lower 
Would be thought a Foole to give away his power. 
Take Bookes and rent them, \Vho would Invent them, 
When as the Sword replies ' Negatur Argumentum ' ? 

The Grand- Colledge Butlers must vail to the Sutlers ; 
There's not a Library like unto the Cutlers' ; 

The blood that is spilt, sir, is turned into guilt, sir : [i.e. gilt? 

Thus have you seen me run my Sword up to her hilts, sir. 


London, Printed Anno Domini 10.59. 
[Black-letter broadside. Four woodcuts. See Note on opposite p. clxxx*.] 


The malaria of Puritanism. 

Of the ' Godly-Man's Instructions,' seven stanzas with the motto- 
verse were reprinted in our vol. vii, p. 830. 

The eleven stanzas there relinquished (viz., stanzas 3, 5, 7, 8, 9, 11, 12, 13, 
15, 16, 17) ought not all to be lost. (We sacrifice four stanzas, 7, 11, 12, 13.) 
The tune is, Aim not too high. Printed for P. Brooksby, circa 1673. 

GOod People all, I pray, hear what I read : etc, 
[See vol. vii, p. 

Our sins aud wickedness they so abound, 

It is for this that God he curst the ground : 

Therefore, good people, let us weep and pray, 

To mend our lives before the Judgment Day . . . 

But yet that very grievous sin of Pride 

Offends the Lord, it cannot be deny'd: 

"Which is a grievous thing for me to tell, 

For want of Grace that we should so rebell . . . 

But yet we have no love to one another 
We care not if we could destroy our Brother ; 
To make us rich for to maintain our Pride, 
We 'danger soul and body too beside. 

And yet consider what I say to you, 

I 'le say no more but what I kuow is true ; 

We take God's name in vain so every day 

We 'danger our poor souls this wicked way . . . 

But yet there 's many people, I do say, 
Do never think upon their dying day : 
But still goes on [their road] in wickedness, 
And follows whoredome, pride, and drunkenness. 

Which is a grievous thing for to behold, 
That Man and Woman dare to be so bold : 
For little pleasure of this worldly wealth, 
That we should 'danger so our own Soul's health. 

Once more, I say, now call to God for Grace, 
That all poor sinners may God's love embrace ; 
For earthly things will vanish and decay, 
When Death doth come, and we are clad with clay. 

"Writers of these dreary monologues found custom. They held no 
warmth or love of religion: nothing beyond a morbid fanaticism. 
There was a false ring in their coinage. They proffered sour 
beverages that slaked no thirst. They exhorted sinners, with 
threatenings, but failed to comfort the afflicted, and yielded 
neither hope nor joy. Their sole eloquence was to scud, and bear 
false witness against their neighbours. It was an unquiet world. 
Habitual hypocrisy, with unclean spirits lurking not unseen. Their 
womenkind were shrews, and seldom virtuous after 
Husbands were betrayed, in retributive justice swift and sure : 

" Sick of grim saints, short commons, and long graces ; 
Welcome wild sinners, laughter, and gay faces." 

Short was the respite. Sectarianism triumphed at the Revolution 

[3rd stanza. 

[5th stanza. 

[8th stanza. 

[9th stanza. 

[loth stanza. 

[16th stanza. 

[17th stanza. 

[See vii, 830. 



{Not in Ballad- Index on pp. 883-931 : which were printed earlier.) 
N.B. — All the page-numbers of this Pref. Note are singly asterisked (*). 

Alack ! for my love I must die . . burden, given, Pref. Note, lxxxiii* 
" Alas ! my Love, you do me wrong." (Greensleeves.) . . . cxxii* 

" Alone as I was walking down by yon river side " . . . . cxxxviii* 

Arraignment of the Devil for stealing away President Bradshaw tit. qu., cl* 

" As I lay musing on my bed, all in my great prosperity " {Cf. cxli*), exl* 

" As I went forth one sunshiuing day." [" As I walk'd " : see clvi*.] . clxx* 

" Assist me, Muses, with your power divine ! " . . . quoted, cxxiii* 

Auld llobin Gray. (Continuations.) .... quoted, lxxii*, lxxv* 

" Beat on, proud billows ! Boreas, blow " . . .... ciii* 

BlacksmLh, The. ( = " Of all the Trades.") .... tune, c* 

Brewer, The Protecting. (" Of all the Trades " : distinct ballads.) title, c* 
" By walking in the hall, his Highness did call." (MS.) . . xcvii* 

" Cheer up, kind Country-men ! " (By S. Sheppard.) . xlvii* ; given, cxlv* 
" Come, come, let 's mourn ! all you that see this day " .... cv* 

" Gome, follow my love, come over the strand" . tune, 120, 573, lxxxiii* 

" Come, friends, and unto me draw near " . . . . . . lxv* 

Constancy, Kind Nancy's part-title, cxxxvii* 

Cupid's Conquest. (" Now am I tost.") .... title, clvii* 

Cupid's Power. (" To cure melancholy.") . .... cxxxiv* 
Cupid's Revenge. (" Now, now, you blind Boy.") . . . cxxxvi* 
Digby's Farewell. (See also Ballad-Index, p. 894.) .... cxiii* 
" Down in a garden sits my dearest Love." (Broadside version.) . cxxix* 

Dream, The Maiden's. {Cf. " Slumbering.") . title, given, cxl*, cxli* 

Elegy upon the Death of King Charles the Martyr. (Oriel Coll. MS.) cv* 
Epithalamium (Acrostic). " Eternity and Heaven " . . . clxxv* 

Fortune-Teller, The merry conceited .... sub-title, lxxvii* 

" Friends, will it please you to hear me tell" clxvii* 

" From hops and grains let us purge our brains." {a.l. " Let us.") . civ* 

" Gallants, all come mourn with me!" . . . quoted, clxx*; tune, 758 
" Good people all, I pray hear what I read " . . . continued, clxxxii* 
" Good people, attend ! I bring a relation " .... quoted, lxxx* 

Green-sleeves, New courtly Sonnet of the Lady . title, burden, tune, cxxii* 
Here is a House to be Let ! ...... sub-title, cxlv* 

" I am a married-man truly " ....... . clxix* 

I am so deep in love I cannot bear it . . . tune, Ixxxvi*, Ixxxvii* 

" I am the King and Prince of Fairies." (MS., 1634.) . . . cxi* 

" I read, for Constant Thisbe's fatal lapse." (Dream of Un-FairWomen.) cxx* 

In my freedom is all my Joy. (Vol. vi, p. 144.) . . . tune, lxv* 

" It is not long agone, since Cupid with his dart" m., Ixxxvii* ; given, clxxiii* 

Kate of Edinburgh. (Garland continuation of vii, 144.) bur. and title, cxli* 

Kentish Yeoman and Susan of Ashford . . . part-title, given, lxx* 

" La Vie est vaine : un peu d' amour" ...... . cxliii* 

Lamentation, The Soldier's .... part-title, ment., clxx* 

" Lay by your pleading, Law lies a bleeding." xxxvi* ; earlier text, clxxxi* 

" Like Alexander will 1 reign, I rule my self alone " . . . . cix* 

Love of a Lancashire Gentleman. (" Look, you.") part -title, given, lxxxiii* 
Loyalty Confined. (" Beat on, proud billows ! ") . . quoted, ciii* 

Lucina. (= " Sweet Lucina, lend me thy aid.") . tune, xlvii*, cxlv* 

Maid of Middlesex, The Merry . . title, ment., Ixxxvii* ; given, clxxiii* 
Maids a-washing themselves. (See Ballad-Index, p. 909.) . tune, cxxxiv* 

clxxxiv* Additional Index of First Lines (Pre/. Note). 

supplied title, cli* 

tune, xlvii*, cxlv* ; bur., clx*, cc* 

title, exxih* 

title, lxxxviii* ; given, clxxii* 

title, quoted, lxxxviii* 


mentioned, ci* ; given, clxxv* 

tune, exxxvi* 


quoted, cxlix* 

(Protecting Brewer : from MS.) . c* 

title, cxlvii* 

Meal-Tub Plot, The (1679) . 

Merrily and Gherrihj. (See " Tho' W.") 

Mistress, Love's ..... 

North-Country Lass that had lost her Way 

Northumberland Bagpipes . 

Now am I tost on waves of Love " 

Now I confess T am in Love " 

Now, now, the fight 's done " (iv, 243) 

Now, now, you blind Boy " . 

Now we are met in a Knot " 

Of all the trades that ever I see." 

Oliver routing the Rump 

One riding with me on a day." (MS.) xcni 

Parliament Routed, The . . . title, quoted, xlvii* ; given, cxlv* 

Peers, Oliver Cromwell's vamped-up. (See 'To make.') lost title, xcvii* 

Plaisir d' amour ne dure qu'un moment" ..... exxxviii* 

Pyramus and Thisbie. (" "When all hearts did yield.") . . cxiii* 

Pyramus and Thisbie, New Sonnet of. (" You dames.") . . cxvii* 

Resolutions, The Young Man's • . . . . part of sub-title, lxxiv* 

Robin Good- Fellow ( = Puck), King of Fairies (1634) . part-title, cxi" 

Room for a Gamester, that plays at all he sees " 

Royal Oak ; or, The Wonderful Travels of Charles II 

Safety, The. (Alternative title, The Politician : by A. B 

Salutation on Primrose Hill, The Sweet 

Shepherdess of Arcadia, The Mournful . . . par 

Since it hath lately been enacted High-Treason" 

Slumbering as I lay one night in my bed." (Orig., Maiden 

State and ambition, alas ! will deceive you " . 

State and ambition, all joy to great Csesar." (A Medley 

Still the wise man of Gotham rules, who sought " 

Tell me, ye wand'ring spirits." (By Sam Sheppard.) 

The delights of a Cuckold " 

The delights of the bottle." (Music in iv, 43.) tune 
There was a Maid, the other day." (Longing Maid.) 
They loved him best who knew him best " 


Though father angry be. (See ' Maid of Middlesex.') 

Though Fortune made me poor, 1 '11 not complain " 

Though Wentworth 's beheaded." (= Merrily, etc.) 

Three monks sat by a bogwood fire " 

Time-Server, The. (A Medley.) .... 

To cure melancholy I travers'd the fields " 

To mnke a silk-purse out of a Sow's ear . 

Tom D'Urfey. (His Epitaphs.) " Where shall he rest " 

Troilus and Cressida (On Shakespeare's) 

Twelve Parliament-men may be sold for a penny 


title, lxv* 

ome.) . title, 


title, lxxxvi* 

title, quoted, exxiii* 

. ci* 

's Dream.) cxli* 

tune, clix*, clxi* 


. clxxvii* 

. given, exxiii* 


clxiv* ; song, clxvi* 

. clxxiv* 


. tune, lxxxvi* 


quoted, clx*, cc* 

quoted, clxxvi* 

title, cii* 

. exxxiv* 

altern. title, xcvii* 

title, cxiii*, cxliii* 

title, cxviii* 

burden, xlvii*, cxlv* 

Well-a-day ! tcell-a-day ! tune and burden, Introd", xc***; Pref. Note, cxlix* 

When all hearts did yield unto Cupid as king" 

When I heard a trumpet sound " . 

Whilst D'Urfey's voice his verse doth raise " . 

Whilst here on earth our brittle bodies rest " 

Will you hear a strange thing, ne'er heard of before ?" . 

With muffled drum and arms reversed " . 

Within our town fair Susan dwelleth." ( = " In this.") 

Within the North-country " ..... 

You dames, I say, that climb the mount of Helicon " 

You good men of Middlesex County s<> dear " 

You married men, whom Fate hath assign'd " 






Trowbesh, cxHv* 


lxxxviii*, clxxii* 



. " exxxii* 




Uirtuallg Uol Nine of Eoiburgfje Ballaos. 

Frontispiece : Guy Earl of Warwick 

Dedication of Restoration Bds. to Sir J. Jenkins, K.C.B. 

" Let me make an end of my dinner " 

$cefatorg Note: #roup of 3&estorattan Ballaos, 1660, 1661. 

Advice to General Monck, Jan. 31, 1660 . 

Second Part of St. George for England 

The Case is Altered; or, The Rump's Last Farewell 

A Panegyric to the Lord Gen. Monck. By Richard Farrar 

England's Joy for the Coming in of King Charles II 

A Country Song, entitled The Restoration . 

England's Joy in a Lawful Triumph. 

England's pleasant May-Flower, 29 May, 1660 
The Scottish Girl's Complaint 

The King and Kingdom's Joyful Day of Triumph . 

Glory of these Nations : King and People's Happiness 

The Loyal Subjects' hearty Wishes to Charles II . 

The Royal Entertainment, on 4 July, 1660 

A Relation of Ten Infamous Traitors, executed Oct., 1660 

The Traitors' Downfall : who murdered the late King 

The Pageants in London at the Coronation of Charles II 

Joyfull News to the Nation : Crowning of King Charles II 
The Royal Oak : Escapes of Charles II. By J. Wade 
Miraculous Escape of our King from Wor'ster, 1651 
Kentish Yeoman and Fair Susan of Ashford 
Covetous-Minded Parents : with its ' Answer ' 
Unconstant Maiden (Ring of Gold) and two Sequels 
Poor Robin's Prophecy : M.C. Fortune-Teller 
The Praise of Sailors. (Earliest version.) 
The Palatine Lovers : Unfortunate Love, etc. 
Sweet Salutation on Primrose -Hill 

Supplementary Note 

How Oxford Scholars spent their time 

The Loyal Subject; or, Praise of Sack 

Canary's Coronation 

Oliver Cromwell's vampt-up Peers . 

The Protecting Brewer 
- The Safety for a Politician 

The Time- Server . 

Loyalty Confined. (By Roger L'Estrange.) 

Elegy upon the Death of King Charles I . 

























lxxiv, lxxv* 








xciv"' ; - 










(By S. S.) 
• (By J. B.) 


On the Passion. (1649) Mens Sana in Corpore Sano 
The New Dame .... 

Robin Good- Fellow, King of Pharies 
Pyramus and Thisbe : Love's Master-piece 
New Sonnet of Pyramus and Thisbie (1565-8-4) 
Troilus and Cressida .... 

The Dream of TJn-Fair Women 

Courtly Sonet of the Lady Greensleeues . 

" Tell me, ye wand'ring Spirits of the Air." (S. S.) 

The Maid's Comfort .... 

The Merry Cuckold .... 

Cupid's Power .... 

Cupid's Revenge .... 

Kind Nancy's Constancy to George 

The Maiden's Dream : also its Original 

Tom D' Urfey (Various Epitaphs on) 

A Requiem . 
Parliament Routed : A House to be Let. 
Oliver Routing the Rump, 20 April, 1653 
The Meal-Tub Plot, 1679 . 

Daphne's Complaint for Absence of her Lover. (By J. P 
Fair Dulcina complaineth. (The Sequel.) 
Cupid's Conquest ..... 

The Protestant Father's Advice 

A New-made Medley .... 

Ballad in Praise of Sweet Susan, 1616 . 

The Flourishing Cuckold will Satisfied . 

A Cuckold by Consent 

She is Bound, but won't Obey . 

The Nightingale's Song 

The North-Country Lass. (Completed from p. lxxxviii*.) 

The Merry Maid of Middlesex, and Longing Maid 

A Rhapsody : and Au Epithalamium 
Corrigenda : Cuckoo of Gotham 

Law lies a Bleeding. (Earliest version : of. p. xxxvi*.) 
Additional List of First Lines (in Prefatory Note) 

This Table of Contents for Vol. IX 

Additional List of Accredited Authors (Pre/. Note) 

Supplementary Frontispieces to vols, i, ii, iii 

jftnal ©roup of Eobtn %}aoa BixIIaos. 

Inscribed to Fred. George Stephens and Joseph Grego, Esqs 
The Story of Robin Hood. By Michael Drayton 

The Noble Fisherman ; or, Robin Hood's Preferment 

Robin Hood and the Shepherd 

Robin Hood and Allen a Dale 

Little John and the Four Beggars . 
















* cxli* 

, cxliii* 



























Robin Hood's Progress to Nottingham . ' . 

Robin Hood and the Tanner 

Robin Hood and Little John 

Robin Hood's Golden Prize. By Laurence Price . 

Robin Hood's Chase (by the King). By Thomas Robins 

Robin Hood and the Beggar. By the same T. Robins 

Robin Hood and the Curtal Friar. 

Eobin Hood and Friar Tuck. (Percy Folio MS. version.) 

Robin Hood and the Jovial Tinker 

Robin Hood and the Jolly Pinder of Wakefield 

Robin Hood and the Butcher 

Robin Hood and the Monk 

Robin Hood Ballads (Maid Marian, Introd., ciii*** ; 882) 

PAG 15 


Two Strings to a Bow ; or, The Cunning Archer. 

In the Hop-Gardens of Kent. (West-Kent Hop -Picking.) 

Kentish Dick : the Lusty Coachman of Westminster 

The Kentish Frolic ; or, Sport upon Sport 

The Kentish Maiden. {Note on p. 842.) . 

Fair Maid of the West of Kent, and her Hat (p. 842) 
The Crafty Miss : The Exciseman well fitted at Rochester 
A Trial of Skill performed by a poor decayed Gentlewoman 
Cheat upon Cheat ; or, The Debauched Hypocrite 



Editorial Preface to Part XXV. (To be retained in binding.) vii 
Hypatia of Alexandria, a.d. 415 

The New-Made Gentlewoman ; or, The Dishonest Lady 
Subtle Damosel's Good Counsel for Maids. By J. Wade 
The Tar's Frolic ; or, British Sailor. (Compare p. 437.) 
The Jolly Sailor. {Note on p. 843.) 
Skilful Doctor of Glou'stershire ; New Way to take Physic 

The Gloucestershire Tragedy ; or, The Lovers' Downfall 
The Parent's Pious Gift ; or, A Choice Present for Children 

The Father's Good Counsel to his lascivious Sou : A Caveat 

The Dream of Judas's Mother Fulfilled 

The Complaint of a Sinner. (Mutilated text, unique.) 

The New Broome. (Mutilated text, unique.) 

Christ's Love to Penitent Sinners. (Cf. better text, p. 795. 

Jephtha's Rash Vow .... 

The Duke's Wish ; or, I'll ask no more. (From MS.) 

Bar'ra Faustus's Dream (mutilated, part MS.) 

The Second Part of Bar'ra Faustus's Dream, 1640 . 



The Ingenious Braggadocio 

A Song upon the Wooing of a Widow. By Rich. Climsall 
The London Cuckold; or, Au ancient Citizen's head fitted 
Whitechapel Maid's Lamentation ; Westminster Madam 
Lamentation; Houuslow-IIeath ; Caesar's Ghost : quoted. 606-608 




(Eroup of Eoxtj. Ballatis on tlje ^ocjucrics of JHillcrs 

Dedicated to the Rev. Andrew Clark, M.A., LL.D. ; of 
Lincoln College, Oxford, Rector of Great Leighs, Essex. 

The Deaf Miller of the Forest of Dean, Gloucestershire 
The Miller's Advice to his Three Sons, on taking of Toll 
A New Song, in ' The King and the Miller of Mansfield ' 
Le Heup at Hanover : a New Song 
Lusty Miller's Recreation : Buxom Female's Delight 

The Jolly Miller : by TomD'Urfey. (Contrasted: see p. 850 

Grist Ground at last ; or, The Frolic in the Mill 
Ill-gotten Goods seldom Thrive ; or, The English Antic 
Roger the Miller's Present, sent by the Farmer's Daughter 
The Crafty Maid of the West; or, The lusty brave Miller of 

the Western parts finely trapan'd. By John Wade 
The Berkshire Tragedy ; or, The Witt'am Miller . 
The Barnard-Castle Tragedy ( = Betty Howson's Tragedy) 
The Constant Lady and False-hearted Squire 

The Esquire's Tragedy: The Unfortunate Lover's Farewell 
Kent Folk-Lore Rhymes : Ashford, Queer Neighbourhood 

E\)t ©roup of Jcmale Bamblcrs . 

Inscribed to Robert Roberts, Esa. (P.S. Obiit 1898.) 
The Female Rambler up to Date: Fin de Steele 
Female Ramblers : Three Buxom Lasses of Northampton 
Three Buxom Maids of Yoel ( = Yeovil). ( Cf. p. 851.) 
The Intrigues of Love ; or, One worth a Thousand . 
The Wanton Wenches of Wiltshire : Pleasant Discourse 

between Four Young Females, overheard by two Men 
The Mournful Maid of Berkshire, her Woeful Lamentation 
The Norfolk Lass : The Maid that was Blown, etc. 
The Unhappy Lady of Hackney 

The Benefit of Marriage, with Counsel to Bachelors. (Quoted 
Action; or, The Origin of Horn- Fair. (Quoted, from MS.) 
Hey for Horn-Fair ; or, Room for Cuckolds ! 1685 
General Summons for those belonging to the Hen-pecked 
Frigate to appear at Cuckold's Point on 18 October 
A New Song on Horn-Fair, 1686 
Tom Farthing ; or, The Married Woman's Complaint 
The Swaggering Man. (Compare vol. iii, p. 576.) 

Early Ballads on Fairings. (Quoted.) 
A Fairing for Young Men ; or, The Careless Lover. By C. H 
A Fairing for Maids. By J. P. (probably John Playford) 

' ' What can a young lassie do wi' an auld man ? " By R. Burns 

Young Woman's Complaint : A Caveat to all Maids to have 

a care how they be married to Old Men. ( Cf. p. lxxxii*.) 







665, 853 

670, 856 




The Ploughman's Praise, in a Dialogue between a Mother 

and Daughter. (Compare p. 863.) 
The Blind eats many a Ply ; The Broken Damsel made whole 

Eest, and be Thankful : A Halt on the Wayside 
The Two Entire Lovers ; Grief crowned with Joy and Comfort 
The Shepherd's Ingenuity ; or, Praise of the Green-Gown 
The Longing Shepherdess ; or, Laddy, lie near me. By 
Robert Guy. (Completion added on p. 865.) . 

Laddy, lie near me. (Brief North- Country Version.) 
The Unsatisfied Lover's Lamentation 

Have at a Venture .... 

Dialogue betwixt a Young Woman and her Sweetheart 69 

Epitaphium TJxoris : ante 1769 . 
The Politic Countryman, in choosing a Wife 
Mirth for Citizens ; or, A Comedy for the Country . 
Westminster Frolic ; or, A Cuckold is a Good Man's Fellow 
A Pleasant Jig between Jack and his Mistress ; or, The 
Young Carman's Courage cooled 

Cupid's Recruiting Sergeant, " From Paphos Isle" 

The Lovers' Battle : a sore Combat between Mars and Yenus 
The Country-Man's Paradise 

The Lady of Pleasure ; or, The London Misse's Frolic 
The Miser Mump'd of his Gold ; or, The Merry Frolic of 
a Lady of Pleasure at Bartholomew-Fair 
The High-prized Pin-Box 
The Lusty Friar of Flanders 
The West-Country Wonder; or, William the Serving-man' 

Good -Fortune ..... 
The Rioters' Ruin : The Two-penny Score : In a Dialogue 

or, A Relation of a Two-penny Bargain 
" I '11 o'er Bogie with him." (See Note on p. 817.) 
Through the Wood, Laddy : A new Scots Tune 
Captain John Bolton, his trial at York, March, 1775, for the 

murder of Elizabeth Rainbow, of A ck worth 
A Sorrowful Lamentation and last Farewell of all the 
Prisoners to be executed, etc., 1780. (Compare p. 875.) 
Solvitur Ambulando ..... 
La Fenaison. (Making hay while the sun shines.) . 

Lovelies a Bleeding, 165.3-6. (Compare Pref. Note, xxxvi*.) 

Maidenhood : Dix-septieme. Ad Psychem 

An English Maiden : Toujours a Toi 
Maidens Fair : An Epilogue to the ' Female Ramblers ' 

Repertoire Alphabetique : Roxburghe Ballads Horn -Book 



5, 866 










atfot'tional Notes to the 3Etgrjt Vols, at Koib. Ballaos . 737 

Love's Riddle Resolved. (Compare p. exxix* for Roxb.) . 749 

Advice to the Beans. By Tom D'Urfey . . . 752 

The Loyal Feast, designed to be held 21 April, 1682 . 754 

Answer to the Pamphlet called ' The Loyal Feast ' . 755 

Loyalty Triumphant; or, Phanaticism Displayed . . 756 

Upon the Gunpowder Plot. (Completion of Song in iv, 273.) 757 

An excellent new Ballad, shewing the Pedigree of King 

James, First of that name in England. By E. W[hite] 758 

Private Occurrences ; or, Transactions of the four last years. 760 

Dick the Ploughman turned Doctor. (Completion.) . 761 

The Cabal; or, A Voice of the Politics: circa 1674 . 762 

" From Dawn to Sunset, night and morn " . . 764 

" In the Land of Topsyturveydom " . . . Ibid. 
Secrets of our Prison-House : Anticipation, and Realization 766, 767 
How the Cavalier Secrets were Learnt . . -768 

Second Part of St. George for England. By John Grubb . 771 

Completion of ' The Old Pudding-Pie Woman ' (vol. vii, p. 77) 776 

Completion of ' The Ragman ' (vol. vii, p. 78) . . 777 

Friendly Advice to Extravagants . . . .779 

Completion of ' The Seaman's Doleful Farewell ' . . 780 

Sailor's Song of Joy for gaining his Love. By R. Climsall . 782 

Completion of ' Love and Loyalty well met' . . Ibid. 

Mally Stuart. (Original of "It was all for our rightful King.") 784 

Deaths of Sir G. Wharton and Sir James Stewart. By J. D. 785 

England's Captivity Returned : Farewell to Commonwealths 787 

Charles King of England safe on Shore ; or, The Royal 

Landing at Dover, May, 1660. (Cf. Pre/. Note, p. ix* ) 788 

Dialogue between the Laird of Brodie and Lilias Brodie : on 

the Death of William III . . .791 

Taffy Up to Date : " Taffy was a Welshman." {Cf. p. 883.) 792 

A Song made for the True-Blue Frigate . . . 793 

The Bad-Husband's Reformation : Ale-Wives' Daily Deceit 796 

The Ale- Wives' Invitation to Married-men and Bachelors . 797 

Additional Notes to Volume Eight of Roxb. Bds. 800 

England's Pride. (Completion, delayed from p. 18.) . 801 

Looking-Glass for a Bad-Husband. By Thomas Lanfiere . 802 

The Broken Contract; or, The Betrayed Virgin's Complaint. 807 

The Fantastical Prodigal (with the rare Second Part) . 811 

" Cupid, as you shall understand." (Completion: see p. 198.) 814 

To the Guilty Bishops, 1710 . . . .818 

On the present Debates about Religion . . . 819 

Masham Displayed (Abigail Hill), 1706. (Quoted.) . 822 

A New Song on the Jacobite Junto .... 824 

A Halter for Rebels ; or, The Jacobites' Downfall . . 825 



The Embassy (of Duke Hamilton, to Pluto's Court) . 827 

A New Protestant Litany, 1712 . . . .828 

The Raree-Show, lately brought from the Isle of Moderation 829 

The Second Part of the Raree-Show . . .830 

A later account of the Raree-Show, 1716 . . . 831 

" The State-Ministers are come." (Quoted.) . . 832 

The Seven Wise Men : Harley and St. John ballads. (Quoted.) 833 

The Vagabond Tories. (Quoted.) . . .838 

Song on Dr. Dodd. (Another Version.) . . . 839 

Mary Queen of Scots at Holyrood. By J. G. Lockhart . 840 

Psalm XIX. By William Slaty er, 1642 . . .841 

Bateman's Tragedy : Lord Bateman : variations noted . 843 

Becovery of Lost Ballads. (See Introduction, passim.} 845, 846 

Gentleman's Song in Disdain of his Mistress. By B. C. . 847 

" New Reformation begins thro' the Nation." By T. D'Urfey 848 

Tom D'TJrfey and Jerry Collier . . . • 84 9 

The Handsome Woman. (Lincolnshire Ditty : traditional.). 852 

The Little Gipsy Girl. (Ditto.) .... 853 

Note on supposititious Author of ' Children in the Wood ' . Ihid. 

Aldibarontiphoscophornio . . . -855 

The Young-Man's Rambles ; or, The Bachelor's Shifts . 858 

Laugh and Lie Down : A Dialogue on banks of the Keldar . 859 

Two Kisses ...... 860 

Kissing goes by Favour : The Kiss of a Seaman. (By S. S.) 861 

The Old Man kill'd with a Cough. (Cf. pp. 678, 679.) . 862 

The Discontented Ploughman .... 864 

The Longing Shepherdess : Laddy, lie near me. (Completed.) 865 

The Scornful Maid and the Constant Young Man . .867 

The Young-Man's Careless Wooing. (Quoted largely.) . 869 

A Mock-Song ; or, Love and No Love. Bartholomew Fair . 870 

11 I wish I were where Helen Lies": Helen of Kirkconnell 872 

Choice of a Noose : Wiving or Hanging. By Michael Banim . 874 

Recovery of lost lines, ' Two Inseparable Brothers ' (p. 26) . 876 

Nuptial Sleep. By Dante G. Rossetti. {Edit, princeps.) . Ibid. 

End of J. Thompson's " Alace ! that samyn sweit face " . 877 

The Ballad Society's "Ten Black-letter Ballad vols.," etc. . 878 

A Gossip at Deptford on Samuel Pepys, in 1684 . . 879 

List of Accredited Authors: Vols. YIII-IX. (See p. cxcii*.) 881 

Woodcut, and Additional Note, of ' Robin Hood's Chase' . 882 
Woodcuts of ' The Jolly Welshwoman ' and Slieffery Morgan, 

alias Taffy, the ' Welsh Fortune-Teller ' (of vol. vii, p. 722). 883 

Ballad-Index to Vols. VIII-IX. (Compare p. clxxxiii*.) Ibid. 

List of Subscribers in 1897 to the Ballad-Society . . 933 

" Mais, oil sont les neiges d'antati ?" The Court Beauties . 935 

List of the completed Vols, of Roxb. and Bag ford Ballads . 936 


Sutotti'onat 3Lfst of Slccrcbttrti SUttljors. 

Note. — Owing to the Ballad-Index, pp. 883-936, having been for safety 
printed before this long ' Prefatory Note? tbere are a few omissions in the 
* List of Accredited Authors,' which are here supplied : — 

Prefatory Note, pp. 

Birkenhead, Sir John xlviii*, clviii* 

Brome, Alexander xxv*, cii* 

Davies (of Hereford). John, 1 609 785 

Fancy, Peter (probable alias ' Philo-Fancy ' elsewhere) . . . lxi* 

Farrar, Richard xxii* 

Gouge, E. (Portrait painter) cxlii* 

L'Estrange, Roger (afterwards Sir R. L'Estrange) .... ciii* 

N., N. (surname not identified : perhaps = ' Nemo ') . Introd., lxii*** 

P., J. (First List, p. 881, John Playford, or John Phillips.) Pref. N, cliii* 
S., A. (imperfect signature ?) ........ cxxiii* 

S., S. ( = Sheppard, Sam.) . Introd., civ***; Note, xlvii*, cxxiii*, cxlvi* 

S., T. ( = Thomas Shadwell) clxvi* 

Tomson, I. (or J.) cxvii* 

Trowbesh : Editorial . . vii*, cxviii*, cxx*, cxliii*, cxliv*, cxcv*, 935 

W., J. ( = Wade, John) xxxiv*, lviii*, lxvi* 

White, Edward Introd., xxviii***, 759 

White, L. (Laurence, or Leonard) clxxiv*, 562 

Tolkney, Walter Iref. Note, xv*, xx* 

" rnHE Minstrel and the Ballad- Singer are the first poets ; the 
X race never dies out, except, indeed, when literature shrivels 
up into the cult of a sect or a group of cliques. And the form of 
a story or ballad, with fine refrains lingering in the ears of simple 
men, Kipling, like other great artists, has shown [to be] quite 
compatible with depth of meaning, to which writers far more 
pretentious and didactic have no true claim." — The Times, 
No. 35,768, p. 11. 

THE Nine Volumes of Roxburghe Ballads (three of them edited by the 
late William Chappell, F.S.A., the other six by J. W. Ebsworth, sole 
editor of the earlier completed Two Volumes of Bagford Ballads, with their 
Supplement entitled The Amanda Group of Bagford Poems) show in vivid 
portraiture the men and women, their political intrigues, warfare, misadventures, 
courtships and social amusements, errors, crimes or punishments, their alternations 
between happiness and misery during the successive reigns of our Stuarts. The 
Valediction of another ' time-expired man ' is echoed here. 

" For to admire, and for to see, 

For to behold this world so wide : 
It never 'd done no good to me, 
But I can't drop it if I tried." 

jFoIIotocti bo tlje JFinnl ffiroup of 
Kolnn teooti Ballade 


Completion of iHojrburglje 'BallaDU* 


T11HIS Final Part XXVII contains Restoration Ballads, 1660, and 

J- Miscellaneous Ballads of the greatest rarity, that had been 

hitherto unattainable; also Special Frontispieces, Title-page, and 

Table of Contents to the Second Division of Vol. VIII. 

The Editor, J. W. Ebsworth, announces that the Roxburghe 

Ballads are now completed. Ready for Binding. 

The total issue since Vol. VII numbers no less than 1 ,296 pp. : double 
title-pages, frontispieces, General Introduction (pp. cxii***), Prefatory Note 
(pp. CC*), Additional Notes to the entire Work, with two Ballad-Indices, given 
on pp. 737-880. _ XXVI holds 256 pp., and XXVII also has 256 pp.: their 
total 512 pp. ending Vols. VIII and IX, issued two years in advance. 

Nothing is lacking, except one Supplementary Part, XXVIII, to contain 
A General Index of Historical Names and Events : with two Portraits. 
It depends solely on the Editor, and special subscribers. He has laboured to 
accelerate the Finish by two years. Fresh discoveries were frequent. Few 
enigmas remain unsolved: many losses have been retrieved. 

Among the acquisitions are sundry supplementary to the first three volumes. 
These are now included among the Additional Notes on pp. 737-753, and else- 
where. No Frontispieces were given with the three volumes, scut out by their 
own Editor, Mr. William Chappell ; but such have always preceded J. W. E.\s 
own eight volumes. The three Frontispieces are now supplied for insertion. 

Second Division, Prep. Note. tt* 

cxciv* Historical Ballad* began in ' Second Scries,' Vol. TV. 

The Ballad Society's reprint of Roxburghe Ballads began in 1869. 
The First Volume of the British Museum original Roxburghe 
Collection folio (corresponding to Mr. W. Chappell's Parts I to VII 
inclusive, or vols, i, ii, and half of vol. iii) was rich in popular old 
ballads, narratives, dialogues, and social merriments; their subjects 
remote from historical or party politics. 

Unfortunately there was a rash stipulation, early recorded, that nothing 
should be omitted, howsoever worthless or offensive : it was not to be a selection 
from Roxb. Collection, but to hold each individual item. The senseless order of 
sequeuce imposed on the folios by Major Pearson's bookbinder (who saved 
his type-ornament bordure, instead of the ballad colophons, mutilating them 
ruthlessly) was copied slavishly. It was merely alphabetical, based on a leading 
word in each ballad-title. 

But when Part X was reached, the new Editor found that political ballads 
became frequent, and a fresh arrangement was indispensable, by grouping 
together chronologically such anti-Papal and other historical ballads as would 
have been comparatively wasted, if left entangled, as others had been in the 
folio volumes. Thence with vol. iv practically began the Second Series, 
includiug the Restoration Ballads of 1661, that are now given in vol. ix. 

[This woodcut of Master Guess-right, in Edward Ford's ' Dialogue ' (vol. i, 
p. 230) reappeared in 1659, as one of the four illustrations to ' Law lies a 
Bleeding' (see p. clxxx*). Another of the four is on p. exeviii*, horseman and 
footman, to represent 'the Power of the Sword': the present Macer stood 
lamely personifying the humiliated hireling of the Civil and Ecclesiastical Law.] 



*%* The first three volumes of Roxburghe Ballads ivere issued without any 
Frontispieces, by W. C, in 1871, 1874, and 1880. But vol. iv, in 1883, and the 
five following volumes each have held a special Frontispiece ; as had also the 
Two Divisions of Bagford Ballads and the Amanda Group, by the later Editor, 
in 1878 and 1880, thus completing the series. The Roxburghts being similarly 
completed, at Easter, 1899, the same Editor adds, for uniformity in combination, 
these three suitable Frontispieces of vols, i, ii, and iii, Roxb. Ballads: to be 
inserted by the bookbinders, facing each title-page. 

The present Editor adds the omitted three Frontispieces, making up the round 
dozen : not only for the sake of symmetry and completeness, at conclusion of 
the thirty years' work, but also in honour of his friend and predecessor, the 
late "William Chappell, F.S. A., to whom the gratitude of our Ballad Society 
is due, for the inauguration of its supreme achievement : The Roxburghe Ballads. 
Of all his family he was our sole helper : the one man who had loved literature 
and music, unselfishly, not sordidly as a trade. Had he survived — these last ten 
years — he would have rejoiced to welcome the End. 

In Jflemottam: 3HE. <£. 

Obiit, 20, viii, 1883. 

rj^HEY loved him best, who knew him best ; 
•*- They mourn him day by day : 
Courteous and kind, ivith taste refined ; 

Would that such friends could stay ? 
Nay ! better fate, than lingering late, 

To glide in peace aicag. 

" Oh cara, cuori cosi non si trovauo piii in questo mondo — 
no, non si trovauo piii ! " 



[This woodcut had once adorned the title-page of Thomas Heywood's 
Thilocothonista : the Drunkard Opened, Disstcted, and Anatomized. Printed by 
J. Raworth, London, 1635, 4to.] R. Harper shewed taste in the selection and 
purchase of ' remainder ' blocks from foreign booksellers. He used this one for 
Humfrey Crowch's ballad, ' The Industrious Smith,' 1 which begins thus : — 

" ^pilere was a poor Smith liv'd in a poor Town, 
-L That had a loving Wife, bonny and brown, 
And though he were very discreet and wise, 
Yet would he do nothing without her advise. 

His stock it grew low, full well he did know, 
He told his Wife what he intended to do. 

Quoth he : " Good Wife, if I can prevail, 
1 will shooe Horses, and thou shalt sell Ale." 

lloxb. Ballads, vol. i, 469. 


(Issued without one in 1872.) 

*** Robert Greene's ' The Ground-work of Coney -Catching,'' 1591, held 
the mice-and-leverets woodcut reprinted in Roxburghe Ballads, vol. ii, p. 81. 
It was chosen by the ballad -publisher, Henry Gosson, to illustrate ' The Mad 
Merry Pranks of Robin Good-Fellow': "From Oberon in Fairy-Land'' 
(compare Prefatory Note to vol. ix, pp. ex* and cxii*, for a later version, 
with different woodcuts : "I am the Xing and Prince of Pharies "). 

Instead of repeating the unwieldy cut as the Frontispiece of vol. ii, another 
of Gosson's woodcuts is selected here, because it illustrates p. clxxxi* of vol. ix. 

When gratuitously editing the first three volumes of ' The Roxburghe Ballads,' 
1869-79, the late William Chappell, F.S.A., was chiefly interested in them for 
their connection with his renowned ' Popular Music of the Olden Time,' more 
than as poetry, scarcely at all for their illustrations. Thus, so early as 1872, 
on p. 80 of his vol. ii, he wrote: " Upon the history of the woodcuts to ballads 
I do not venture. It is the especial province of those who write upon what is 
popularly called ' Fine Art.' " On this subject Frederic George Stephens is the 
greatest living authority : as shewn in his most valuable volumes, the Catalogue 
of Satirical Prints and Drawings in the British Museum, issued by the Trustees, 
1871-1883: First Division, Political and Personal Satires. It is a perfect 
treasure-house for archaeologists and biographers, deserving highest praise ; but, 
the five volumes being costly, it is comparatively unknown. His art-criticism, 
in the Athenceum and elsewhere, is always eloquent and sound. — J. w. e. 



[This woodcut belonged to the time of James I. It teas used for many ballads, 
circa 1633, by Henry Gosson. Later, it passed to other publishers, who printed 
it until the eve of the Restoration , even to 1659 ; as in the ' ' Lay by your pleading, 
Law lies a bleeding " (see Prefatory Note to vol. ix, p. clxxxi*). Gosson made 
it the chief cut of Martin Parkers ballad, circa 1630, Roxb. Ballads, vol. ii, 
p. 565, beginning, ' There 's nothing to be had without money.'] 

" \70u Gallants and you swag'ring Blades, 
J- give eare unto my Ditty ; 
I am a boon Companion kuowne 
in Country, Towne, and City : 
I alwayes lov'd to weare good cloathes, 
And ever scorned to take blowes : 
1 am beloved of all me knowes, 
But God '« mercy, Penny ! " 



*#* The woodcut now added on p. cc* had come early with ' A merry new 
Song,' detailing certain unlikely events : " And when these changes come, the 
worst is past.' 1 '' Printed for Richard Harper. The 'Explanatory Couplets' 
were not given there. They are on a broadside (Eagford Coll., Ill, 93) entitled 
' RornSs Thunderbolt,' signed R. S. ; printed by H. B. for J. Conyers, at the 
sign of the Black Raven in Duck-Lane, 1082. They may have appeared at 
earlier date. 

" These following Couplets to your sense makes good 
What by the Emblem may be understood. 

A. The World's Redeemer in the Clouds above, 
Amidst the Angels doth in Glory move. 

B. The Pope attempts to fix his lofty throne 
As high, and Head's ambitious Babylon. 

C. Then see the Whore is mounted on the Beast, 
Whose character at large is manifest. 

D. An armed Popish Army may be seen, 
Furnish' d from Rome and Hell's vast Magazeen. 

E. Suppose this Smithfield Pounds, where you may see 
An Emblem of the Marian Cruelty. 

F. Behold the Beast on which the '©trumpet rides, 
And the false Prophets kneeling by its sides. 

G. Then see the Gulf, devouring Crowds of those 
Who were to Christ and to his people Foes. 

H. And if you '11 be inform'd from whence they come, 
Look to the other Corner, there stands Rome. 

R. S." 

Without the 'Explanatory Couplets.' the woodcut accompanied a ballad 
named 'The Loyal Protestants' New Litany,' 1680 (reprinted in The Bagford 
Ballads, p. 659). 



" For she saith in her heart, ' I sit a Queen, and am no Widow, and 
I shall see no sorrow.' Therefore shall her plagues come in one day." 

Rev., xviii, 7, 8. 

" If that all false Traytors were banisht our Land, 
And that from all Popery it once might be free, 
Then England and Scotland might joyne hand in hand, 
Then times will prove better to thee and to me. 

So merrily and eherrily wee 'I drink wine and beere, 
Let who as will run for it, we will stay here." 

John Lookes, 1641. (See p. clx*, vol. ix.) 

^econn ano jftnal <£roup 







" <*>h(^ Kunpouijists in Hrt," 





' ' Lytill Ihon and Robyne Hude 
Waythmen ware, commendyd gude ; 
In Yngilwode and Barnysdale 
Thai oysyd all this tyme thare trawale." 

— Wyntoun's Scottish Chronicle, circd 1420. 

" 'Robin Hood, Robin Hood' said Little John, 
' Come, dance before the Queen a ! 
In a red petticote, and a greene jacket, 
A white hose and a greene a.' " 

— A Round, in Pammelia, 1609. 

2 1 


Kobtn ^ooti'0 £>torp + 

" The merry pranks he. play' d would aske an age to tell, 
And the adventures strange that Robin Hood befell. 
When Mansfield many a time for Robin hath bin layd, 
How he hath cosned them that him would have betrayd ; 
How often he hath come to Nottingham disguisd, 
And cunningly escapt, being set to be surprised. 

In this our spacious Isle, I think there is not one 
But he hath heard some talke of him and Little John ; 
And to the end of time the Tales shall ne'r be done, 
Of Scarlock, George a Greene, and Much the Miller's sonne, 
Of Tuck the merry Frier, which many a Sermon made 
In praise of Robin Hood, his Out-lawes, and their Trade. 

An hundred valiant men had this brave Robin Hood, 
Still ready at his call, that Bow -men were right good, 
All clad in Zincolne-Greene, with Caps of red and blew. 
His fellowes' winded Home not one of them but knew ; 
"When setting to their lips their little Beugles shrill, 
The warbling Eccho's wakt from every dale and hill. 
Their Bauldricks set with studs, athwart their shoulders cast, 
To which, under their armes, their Sheafes were buckled fast, 
A short Sword at their belt, a Buckler scarse a span : 
Who strooke below the knee not counted then a man. 

All made of Spanish Yew, their Bowes were wondrous strong ; 
They not an Arrow drew, but was a cloth-yard long. 
Of Archery they had the very perfect craft, 
With Broad-arrow, or But, or Prick, or Roving-shaft, 
At Markes full fortie-score they us'd to Prick and Rove, 
Yet higher than the breast, for Compasse never strove ; 
Yet at the farthest marke a foot could hardly win. 
At Long-buts, short, and hoyles, each one could cleave the pin ; 
Their Arrowes finely pair'd, for Timber and for Feather, 
With Birch and Brazill peec'd to flie in any weather ; 
And shot they with the round, the square, or forked pyle, 
The loose gave such a twang, as might be heard a niyle. 
And of these Archer., brave there was not any one, 
But he could kill a Deere his swiftest speed upon ; 
Which they did boyle and rost, in many a mightie wood, 
Sharpe hunger the fine sauce to their more kingly food. 
Then taking them to rest, his merry men and hee 
Slept many a Summer's night under the Greenewood tree. 

From wealthy Abbots' chests, and Churles' abundant store, 
What oftentimes he tooke, he shar'd amongst the poore. 
No lordly Bishop came in lusty Robin's way, 
To him, before he went, but for his Passe must pay. 
The Widdow in distress he graciously reliev'd, 
And remedied the wrongs of many a Virgin griev'd. 
He from the husband's bed no married woman wan, 
But to his Mistris deare, his loved Marian, 
Was ever constant knowne, which, wheresoere shee came, 
Was soveraigne of the Woods, chiefe Lady of the Game. 
Her clothes tuck'd to the knee, and daintie braided haire, 
With Bow and Quiver arm'd, shee wandred here and there 
Amonpst the Forrests wild : Diana never knew 
Such pleasures, nor such Harts as Mariana slew ! " 

Michael Drayton's Pohj-Olbion, Song 26, 1613. 


" The Minstrell he was called in, some pretty jest to play ; 
Then Robin Hood was called for, and Malkin ere they went, 
But Barnard euer to the mayde a louing looke he lent. 
And he would uery fayne haue daunst with hir, if that he durst ; 
As he was offering, Galfryd caught hir by the hand at furst." 

The Pity full Historie of two louing Italians, Gaulfrido and Barnardo le valine, 
toh ich arriued in the countrey of Greece, in the time of the noble Emperoure Vespasian. 
Translated into Englishemteter by JhonDrout, o/Thavis Inne, gentleman. Anno 
1570. Imprinted at London by Henry Binneman. (Reprinted by John Payne 
Collier, 1844.) 

FOURTEEN « Robin Hood Ballads ' are reproduced in this Final 
Group. Twelve were mentioned on pp. 177, 178; in addition 
to the other five, which had formed the First Group, reprinted in 
vol. ii, pp. 418 to 453. Collectively these are the seventeen 
' Robin Hood Ballads ' represented in the Roxburghe Collection, 

Of the former group, reprinted in Roxb. Ballads, vol. ii, duplicates or other 
editions are found elsewhere, viz. of No. 1, ' Renowned Robin Hood '=" Gold 
ta'en from the King's Harbengers," in Wood's Collection, 402, 10, and 401, 31 ; 
Pepys II, 103 ; Euing, No. 300 ; Douce, III, 114. Of No. 2, ' Robin Hood 
and the Stranger '=" Come listen a while" : see Wood, 401, fol. 27 ; Pepys, 
II, 101 ; and Douce, III, 120 verso. Of No. 3, ' R. H., Scadlock, and Little 
John '=" Now Robin," etc.: see Pepys, II, 120; Douce, III, 117; and 
Jersey, II, 308=Lindes., 900. Of No. 4, ' A new Ballad '=" Kind gentlemen" : 
see Pepys, II, 116, 118 ; Douce, III, 112. Of No. 5, ' R. H. and the Bishop,' 
= "Come, gentlemen all": see Wood, 401, 11; Pepys, II, 109, 122; Euing, 
No. 303. The Roxb. Collection holds no exemplar of ' Robin Hood and the 
Tanner '='Arthur a Bland,' p. 502, "In. Nottingham there lives a jolly Tanner." 

To trace to their respective sources the Thames and the Rhine 
w r as easy ; to do as much for the Nile or the Niger has been merely 
a question of time. But to ascertain the fons et origo of Robin 
Hood song and legend seems hopeless. Cross-currents, fogs and 
crevasses, deadly swamps and poisonous canebrakes, have to be 
encountered, and the whetstone for liars had been too often used 
actively. Surely no one can imagine that, early though it be 
{circa 1520-1550), "Wynkyn de "Worde's or William Copland's 
impression of '■A Lytell Geste of Robyn Hode? or l A Mery Geste,' 
is other than a recasting of long antecedent materials. As we 
have it, in eight "Fyttes," it numbers fully four hundred and 
forty-five stanzas. It is not in the Roxb. Coll., but begins thus : — 

" Lithe and lysten, Gentylmen, that be of frebore blode, 

I shall you tell of a good ye[o]man, his name was Robyn Hode. 
Robyn was a proude Outlawe, whyles he walked on grounde, 

So curteyse an outlawe as he was one was neuer none y founde. 
Robyn. stode in Bernysdale, and lened hym to a tree, 

And by hym stode Lytell Johan, a good ye[o]man was he, 
And also dyde good Seatheloeh, and Much the Miller's sone. 

There was no ynche of his body but it was worthc a grome." Etc. 

484 The Robin Hood Ballads. 

The superabundance of Robin Hood literature can be explained 
thus. First. — The hero was representative : a man well born 
and well nurtured, of good disposition, habitually kind ; who had 
been aroused to resist the oppression of cruel laws, and redress 
grievances by his own personal influence, triumphant even when in 
retreat. He gathered around him a band of merry outlaws, who 
loved and obeyed him as their leader, yet still their comrade. With 
him they had fought individually, before their initiation into the 
free-masonry of the woodlands : a man who could prize them for 
standing up manfully to guard their heads with their own hands, 
taking and giving hard blows, but never a foul stroke. He waged 
war against vindictive and rapacious sheriffs or luxurious bishops, 
yet never became morose, never ceased to protect and relieve the 
poor, or to comfort the suffering. "While he tried to rectify some 
of the failures made by churchmen and statesmen, he was neither 
atheist nor rebel. He sought no tub, as a cynic Diogenes ; no pillar 
of seclusion or ostentatious sanctity, as a St. Simeon Stylites. His 
Cave of Adullam was the freedom of the green forest at Sherwood. 
He had strength and skill, yet was without cruelty or rapacity. 
His frequent defeats, borne good-humouredly, helped to make him 
popular. He stood forth boldly as the type and embodiment of 
an ideal that men could understand, and prize highly. If through 
successive years were told too frequently, as new adventures, the 
selfsame cudgellings and friendly reconciliations after battle, this 
repetition was in accord with our habitual tendency, thus defined 
by Sir John Ealstaff — " It was alway yet the trick of our English 
nation, if they have a good thing, to make it too common." Robin 
Hood was worn threadbare. Each wandering minstrel in early 
time, or ballad-monger in later days, sought to add another stone to 
the cairn; another "fytte," plagiarized from those already sung. 

Second. — The several Trades were to be propitiated individually, 
and thus tempted to buy the new ballad. The tanners had been 
told that Robin Hood acknowledged the prowess of Allan a Bland 
the tanner, and they bought the ballad. Similarly the butchers, 
the shepherds, the fishermen, the tinkers, the potters, even the 
beggars, who could find a coin to spare when necessary, were success- 
fully flattered by some obscure laureate of their own craft. Every 
rhymester chose a member of his own calling to be the conqueror 
of this genial outlaw. Men who heard or read some few local 
ditties knew not the other ballads. They were purchasers and 
admirers, not carping critics or Tennyson's " indolent reviewers." 

Robin Hood was faithful in his love to the amazon Maid Marian, 
as in his friendship with Little John, Allan a Dale, or the prisoners 
whom he rescued from the gallows-foot. He prized his comrades 
unselfishly, and met his death at last by too frankly confiding 
in his cousin the treacherous Prioress of Kirklees. He became 
a national myth, and is still enshrined in memory. His resistance 

The Robin Rood Ballads. 485 

of iniquitous Forest-laws won approval ; his ' equitable adjustment 
of property,' to relieve the poor, met rebuke from the ecclesiastical 
hierarchy. Compare the Interlude of Thersites, 1537 — 

" "Where is Lytill John and Robyn Hode ? 
Approche hither quickly, if yon think it good. 
I will teache such outlawes, with Uhriste's curses, 
How they take away hereafter Abbotes' purses." 

Innumerable contradictions and discrepancies impair the credit 
of every recognized antiquarian or popular theory to personally 
identify the original Robin Hood, his date and social rank. It is 
better to dismiss the interminable controversies from present notice. 
He was a masculine Mrs. Harris, often named, but unseen and 
apocryphal. He belonged to folk-lore, not to history. His very 
name and existence have been doubted. Some declare that it 
meant no more than ' Robin o' the Wood,' but this is sheer 
imbecility. Scraps of versical allusions to him and his adventures 
are of an early date. A brief summary of these, sufficient to prove 
his popularity as a representative of the ' Commons,' is given in 
the 'Introduction to the Robin Hood Ballads,' in the invaluable 
Bishop Percy's Folio Manuscript, 1867. This we quote : — 

" He is first mentioned in literature in the ' Vision of William concerning Piers 
the Ploughman,'' written probably about 1362 [1377], and is there mentioned 
[sic] as the well-known hero of a well-known [sic] Popular Song 1 . Says Sloth : — 

' I kan noght parfitly my pater-noster 
As the priest it syngeth, 
But I kan rymes of Itobi/n Hood, 
And Randolph Erl of Chestre.' "Wright's P. P., 3275-78. 

"His next mention is in "Wyntoun's 'Scottish Chronicle,'' written about the 
year 1420. Wyntoun, writing of the year 1284, says [cf. p. 481] : — 

' Lytill Ihon and Robyne Hude | waythmen ware, commendyd gude ; 
In Yngilwode and Barnysdale | thai oysyd all this tyme thare trawale.' 

" Some thirty years afterwards one of the additions to Fordun's ' Scotichronicon ' 
.... speaking of the De Montford period, informs us — 'Hoc in tempore de 
exheredatis et bannitis surrexit et caput erexit ille famosissimus sicarius Robertus 
Mode et Littill Johanne cum eorum complicibus, de quibus stolidum vulgus hianter 
in comoediis et tragoediis piurienter festum faciunt et super ceteras roniancias 
mimos et bardanos cantitare delectantur' (Goodall's Forduni Scotich.,\\, 104)." 

The dance-tunes and melodies belonging to these traditionary ballads were 
given by the late Edward F. Rimbault, in Musical Illustrations of the Robin 
Hood Ballads (published in vol. ii, pp. 433-447 of the gullible J. M. Gutch's 
' Lytcll Geste of R. II.,' 1847). This is a distinct work from Rimbault's 
subsequent and better known ' Musical Illustrations of Bishop Percy's Reliques 
of Ancient English Poetry,' published by Cramer, lieale, & Co., in 1850. 

We are spared reproducing both the interminable ' Lytell Geste' and a 
dozen of the less important Robin Hood ballads by their being unrepresented 
in the Roxburghe Collection. These cinereal mounds resemble Monte Testaccio 
at Home, a heap of broken shards ; our half is greater than the whole — Euclid 
notwithstanding. It is enough to have edited all that we were bound to give. 


[Roxburghe Collection, II, 370, III, 524; Pepys, II, 108, 123; "Wood, 401, 
25 w. and 402, 18; Bagford, II, 22; Rawlinson, 159; Euing, 301, 302; 
Huth,II,68; Douce, II, 370; Jers.,11,271 =Lind.,683; Garlands,1663,1670.] 

£)r, Robin Hood's preferment: ggetoing goto §e toon 
a [great] pri3e on tjje ^>ea, anD Soto ge gaue one 
fialf to £10 Dame anO tfie otger to t£e builoing of 

To the Tune of, In Summer-time, etc. [See Note, p. 487.] 

IN Summer-time, when leaves grow green, [Down a down, etc. 
"When they [doe] grow both green and long, 
Of a boidd Out-law call'd Robin Mood, 
It is of him I sing my song. [ai. lect. this song. 

"When the Lilly leaf and the Elephant [a.i. Eglantine. 

Doth bud and spring with a merry [good] cheer, 
This Out-law was weary of the wood-side 
And chasing of the fallow deere. 

The Noble Fisher-Man. 487 

" The Fisher-men brave more money have 
Th[a]n any merchants, two or three ; 

Therefore I will to Scarbrough go, [See Vote, below. 

That I a Fisher-man might be." 

This Out-law call'cl his merry men all, 
As they sat under the green-wood tree : 
" If you have any gold to spend, 

I pray you heartily spend it with me." [ = instead of. 

" Now," quoth Robin, "I'le to Scarbrough go, 
It seems to be a very fair day " ; 

[He] took up his inn at a widdow's house, i texf > Who - 

Hard by upon the waters gray ; 

Who asked him, " Where wert thou born? 

Or tell to me where thou dost fare ? " 
" I am a poor Fisher-man," said he then, 
" This day intrapped all in care." 

" What is thy name, thou fine fellow ? 

I pray the[e] heartily, tell it to me." 
" In mine own country where I was born, 

Men call me Simon over the Lee." 

" Simon, Simon," said the good wife, 

" I wish thou may'st well brook thy name." 

The Out-law was 'ware of her courtesie, 

And rejoyced he had got so good a dame. 

" Simon, wilt thou be my man ? 

And good round wages I will give thee ; 
I have as good a ship of mine own 
As any sails upon the sea. 

" Anchors and planks thou shalt not want, 

Masts and ropes that are so long." 
" And if thou thus furnish me," 

Said Simon, " nothing shall go wrong." 

Note. — This ballad was entered to Francis Coules and ' partners in that stock' 
13 June, 1631, in the llegisters of the Stationers Company (Transcript, iv, 254). 
The tune {Popular Music, p. 393), often named In Summer-time, is believed to 
be the same as King Edward the Fourth and the Tanner of Tannvorth. Line 5 
mentions a scabious plant, 'the Elephant,' but modernized versions substitute 
'the Eglantine.' Line 11 names Scarborough, and to the present day a bay 
of a mile broad, on the coast between Scarborough and Whitby, is known as 
' Robin Hood's Bay.' A view of it is given in the Abbolsjord Edition of 
Waverley Novels, vol. iv : ' Ivanhoe,' p. 595. The noted village of fishermen is 
six miles from Whitby, where Ilobin Hood generously founded the almshouses : 
in olden time they were the best of gifts or bequests ; now, alas ! ' confiscated.' 

488 The Noble Fisher-Man. 

They pluckt up anchor and away did sail, 

More of a day than two or three ; ittxt, then. 

"When others cast in their baited hooks, 

The bare lines into the sea cast he. 

" It will be long," said the master then, 
" E're this great lubber do thrive on the sea ; 
I 'le assure, he shall have no part of our fish, 
For in truth he is [of] no part worthy." 

" woisme!" said Simon then, 
" This day that ever I came here; 

I wish I were in Plumpton Pai'k, [Cf. vii, p. 604. 

[A] chasing of the fallow-deer. 

" For every clown laughs me to scorn, 
And they by me set nothing at all : 
If I had them in Plumpton Park, 
I would set as little by them all." 

They pluckt up anchor and away did sail, 
More of a day than two or three ; 
But Simon espyed a ship of war, 
That sailed toward them valourously. 

" woe is me ! " said the master then, 
" This day that ever I was born ; 

For all our fish that we have got 

Is every bit lost and forlorn. 

" For yon French robbers on the sea, 
They will not spare of us one man; 
But carry us to the coast of France, 
And lay us in the prison strong." 

But Simon said : " Do not fear them ; 
Neither, master, take you any care : 
Give me my bent bow in my hand, 
And never a French-man will I spare." 

" Hold thy peace, thou long lubber, 

For thou art nought but brags and boast : 
If I should cast thee over-board, 
There 's but a simple lubber lost." 

Simon grew angry at these words, 
And so angry then was he, 
That he took his bent bow in his hand, 
And to the ship-hatch go doth he. 

The Noble Fisher-Man. 489 

" Master, tye me to the mast," [saith he,] 
" That at my mark I may stand fair; 

And give me my bent bow in my hand, 

And never a French-man will I spare." 

He drew his arrow to the very head, 
And drew it with all might and main, 
And in the twinkling of an eye 
Doth the French-man 's heart the arrow gain. 

The French-man fell down on the ship-hatch, 
And under the hatches [tjhere below ; {text, here. 

Another French-man that him espy'd, 
The dead corps into the sea doth throw. 

" master, loose me from the mast," he said, 
" And for them all take you no care ; 

And give me my bent bow in my hand, 

And never a French-man will I spare." 

Then [streight] they boarded the French ship, 
They lying all dead in their sight ; 
They found within the ship of war 
Twelve thousand pound in money bright. 

" The one half of the ship," said Simon then, 

" I 'le give to my Dame and [her] children small ; 

The other part of the ship I 'le give 

To you that are my fellows all." 

But now bespake the master then : 
" Eorso[oth], Simon, it shall not be ; [text, For so. 

For you have won it with your own hands, 
And the owner thereof [you] must be." 

" It shall be so as T have said; 
And with this gold for the opprest 
An habitation 1 will build, 
Where they shall live in peace and rest." 

Printed for W. Thackeray and T. Passenger. 

[Black-letter. 1631. Eoxb. Coll., II, 370 has two woodcuts : 1st, three men, 
not the same as on p. 486 ; 2nd, ships and rocks, of vol. vii, p. 505. "Wood's two 
exemplars, distinct, were printed respectively ior F. Coles, in the Old Bailey, 
circa 1631; and [Wood's 401) F. Coles, T. Vere, and W. Gilbcrtson, cir'cd 
1648-63. Eawlinson's, instead of Gilbertson, adds the names of/. Wright 
and J. Clarke. The 1st repysian has Alex. Milbourn, Will. Ownlcy (sic), and 
Thorn. Thackeray, at the Angel. 2nd Pepysian has Wright, Clarke, W. 
Thackeray, and T. Passenger. 2nd Eoxb. Coll. (Ill, 524) is modern: 
printed and sold by /. Mow, in Petticoat Pane. Numerous editions.] 


[Roxburghe Collection, II, 392, III, 284 ; Wood, 401, 13 verso ; Pepys, II, 115 ; 
Douce, III, 115; Jersey, II, 267=Lindes., 27 ; Garlands, 1663, 1670.] 

3&obtn $ooti anti ti)e ^>i)epl)ert) : 

&5rtMt10 Soto Robin Hood, \itt\t John, aitb tge g>£cp|)Crtl 
fouggt a gore Combate* 

[The Shepherd fought for Twenty Pound, 

And Robin for Bottle and Bag ; 
But the Shepherd stout gave them the rout, 

iSo sore they could not wag.] [ = Wood's exemplar. 

Tune is, Robin Hood and Queen Eatherine. [See p. 177 and vol. ii, p. 419.] 

A LI Gentlemen and Yeomen good, Down a down a down, [passim. 
I wish you to draw near, 
For a story of gallant bold Robin Hood unto you I will declare : 
Down a down, a down, a down. [Sic passim. 

As Robi?i Hood walkt the Forest along, some pastime for to spy, 
There was he aware of a jolly Shepherd, that on the ground did lye. 

" Arise, arise ! " said jolly Robin, " and now come let me see 
What is in thy bag and bottle ; I say, come tell it unto me." 

" What 's that to thee ? thou proud fellow ! tell me, as I do stand, 
What thou hast to do with my bag and bottle ? Let me see thy 

Command." [i.e. thy authority. 

" My Sword, that hangeth by my side, is my command, I [tr]ow. 
Come and let me taste thy Bottle, or it may breed thy woe." 

" The Devil a drop, thou proud fellow ! of my bottle thou shalt see, 
Until thy Valour here be try'd, whether thou wilt fight or flee." 

" What shall we fight for ? " cries Robin Hood : " come, tell it soon 
to me. 
There 's twenty pound in good red gold : win it, and take it thee ! " 

(Efte Scconti Part: to the same Ttjne. 

The Shepherd stood all in a maze, and knew not what to say : 
" I have no money, thou proud fellow ! but bag and bottle I 'le lay." 

" I am content, thou Shepherd Swain : fling them down on the 
ground ! 
But it will breed the[e] mickle pain to win my twenty pound." 

" Come, draw thy Sword, thou proud fellow ! thou standest too 
long to prate. 
This Hook of mine shall let thee know, a coward I do hate." 

Robin Hood and the Shepherd. 491 

So they fell to it full hardy and sore: it was on a Summer's day : 
Prom ten till four in the Afternoon the Shepherd held him play. 

Robin s Buckler prov'd his chiefest defence, and sav'd him many 

a bang, 
For every blow the Shepherd gave made Robin's sword cry twang ! 

Many a sturdy blow the Shepherd gave, and that bold Robin found; 
Till the blood ran trickling from his head, then he fell to the ground. 

" Arise, arise, thou proud fellow ! and thou shalt have fair play, 
If thou wilt yield, before thou go, that I have won the day." 

14 A boon, a boon ! " cry'd bold Robin, " if that a man thou be : 
Then let me take my Bugle-horn, and blow but blasts three." 

Then said the Shepherd to bold Robin : " To that I will agree ; 
For if thou shouldblow till to-morrow morn I scorn one footto flee." 

Then Robin he set his Horn to his mouth, and he blew with 

might and main, 
Until he espyed Little John come tripping over the plain. [Cf. p. 496. 

" 0,who is yonder, thou proud fellow! that comes down yonder hill?" 
" Yonder is John, bold Robin Hood's man, shall fight with thee 
thy fill." 

" What is the matter ?" says Little John; "Master, come tell to me." 
" My case is bad," cries Robin Hood, "for the Shepherd hath 
conquer'd me." 

" I am glad of that ! " cries Little John. " Shepherd, turn thou to me ! 
For a bout with thee I mean to have : either come fight or flee." 

" With all my heart, thou proud fellow ! for it shall never be said 
That a Shepherd's hook of thy sturdy look will one jot be 

So they fell to it, full hardy and sore, striving for victory. 
"I will know" (says John), " e're we give o'er, whether thou 
wilt fight or flee." 

The Shepherd gave John a sturdy blow, with his Hook, under 
the chin. 
" Beshrew thy heart ! " said Little John, " thou basely dost begin." 

" Nay, that is nothing ! " said the Shepherd : " either yield to me 
the day, 
Or I will bang thy back and sides before thou goest thy way. 

492 Robin Hood and the Shejrfierd. 

"What, dost thou think, thou proud fellow! that thou can'st 
conquer me ? 
Nay, thou shalt know, before thou go, I 'le fight before I'le flee." 

Again the Shepherd laid on him blows, [as] the Shepherd he 
[had] began. 
" Hold! hold!" cry'd bold Robin Mood, "I will yield the wager 

" With all ray heart ! " said Little John ; " to that I will agree : 
For he is the flower of Shepherd Swfains] ; the like I did 
never see." 

^f Thus have you heard of Robin Hood : Down a [down, a doivn~\ ; 
also of Little John ; 
How a Shepherd swain did conquer them : the like was never 
known : Down a down, a down, a down. 

[Black-letter. Eoxb. colophon lost, but Wood's exemplar gives omitted motto- 
verse, and 'London, Printed for John Andrews, at the White Lion, in Pye- 
Corner.' 1 Of date circa 1656, probably earlier. Pepysian exemplar is later, 
'for William Thackeray, at the Angel, in Buck-Lane.'' It is No. 11 in bis 
List of Ballads, 1685. Koxb. has two woodcuts : 1st, the centre figure of p. 486, 
but with bow ; 2nd, the Ploughman or Shepherd with staff, vol. vii, p. 31.] 

IRotun i^oon anti alien a Dale. 

THERE seems to be little doubt that Allen a Dale, or ' Allin of 
Dale ' as he is named in the Roxb. broadside, is the same 
person who is elsewhere called ' Scarlet,' from his attire, and 
' Will Scadlock.' Robin himself sometimes bears the name Locksley, 
assumed from his supposed birthplace, but apparently it was borne 
also by one of his men. Even so there were rumours of more than 
one John the Little or Little John, after the original stalwart 
champion thus entitled had passed to " where beyond these voices 
there is peace." ' Much, the Miller's son,' Midge, is here called Nick. 
We speedily enter a visionary world if we attempt to trace their 
respective genealogies. 

The present ballad holds in solution the elements of a charming 
Love-tale, romantic and suggestive. It is not, like the majority of 
the Robin Hood cycle, a mere sporting-calendar of swash-buckler 
buffetings and cudgellings, auticipative of the P.R. ; except the 
Noble Fisher-man, or the Rescue of Stutley and the Widow's sons. 
The tune is named Robin Hood in the Greenwood stood. Compare the 
seventh line, and the second stanza of 'Robin Hood's Golden Prize,' 
p. 509. The music given for 'Allen a Dale ' by Rimbault is the 
first half of Drive the Cold Winter away : see Popular Music, p. 193. 


[Roxburghe Collection, II, 394 ; Pepys, II, 110 ; Euing, 299 ; Douce, II, 185 ; 
III, 119 ; Jersey, II, 223=Lindes., 260.] 

iaotnn foot* an* ZUin of SDale ; 

5 pleasant delation goto a poring Ccntlcman facing m 
tlooe toitlj a £Jotmg SDamstl, toJjici) toag tafcm from 
ftim to uc an £Dlo &niggt'0 Brioc, an& Jjoto ifofow 
Hood, pittping ttje poiing man'0 case, took Dec from 
tljr £010 iHntgijt, toijni tgcp tocre going to be martpeD, 
ano restored £er to get ottm ILofce again. 

Bold Robin Hood lie did the Young Man right, 
And took the Damsel from the Dot[e]ing Knight. 

To Pleasant Northern Tune ; or, Robin Hood in the Green- Wood stood. [492. 

f^Ome listen to me, you Gallants so free, 
J All you that love mirth for to hear ; 
And I will you tell of a bold Outlaw, 
That lived in Nottingham-shire , 

That lived in Nottingham-shire. [Repeat itu line, passim. 

As Rohm Hood in the Forest stood, 

All under the Green-wood tree, 

There was he aware of a brave young man, 

As fine as fine might be. 

The youngster was cloathed in Scarlet red, 

In Scarlet fine and gay, [cf, p. 492, introd. 

And he did frisk it over the plain, 

And chanted a roundelay. 

494 Robin Hood and Allen-a-Dale. 

As Robin Hood next morning stood 
Amongst the leaves so gay, 
There did he espy the same young man 
Come drooping along the way. 

The Scarlet he wore the day before, 
It was clean cast aAvay, 
And every step he fetcht a sigh, 
"Alack, and a welladay ! " 

Then stepped forth brave Little John, 

And Nick the Miller's Son, [«*■ teet. 'Much: 

Which made the young man bend his bow, 

When as he see them come. 

" Stand off! stand off ! " the young man said, 
" What is your will with me ? " 
" You must come before our Master straight, 
Under yon Greenwood Tree." 

And when he came bold Robin before, 
Robin askt him courteously : 
" hast thou any money to spare 
For my merry men and me ? " 

" I have no money," the young man said, 
" But five shillings and a Ring ; 

And that I have kept this seven long years, 

To have it at my wedding. 

" Yesterday I should have married a Maid, 
But she was from me ta'ne, 
And chosen to be an old Knight's delight ; 
Whereby my poor heart is slain." 

" What is thy name ? " then said Robin Hood ; 

" Come tell me without any fail ! " 

" By the faith of my body," then said the young man, 

" My name it is Allin a Dale." IW- i>- 492. 

" What will thou give me," said Robin Hood, 
" In ready gold or fee, 

To help thee to thy true Love again, 

And deliver her unto thee ? " 

" I have no money," then quoth the young man, 
" No ready gold nor fee ; 

But I will swear upon a book 

Thy true Servant for to be." 

Robin Hood and Allen-a-Dale. 495 

" How many miles is it to thy True-Love ? 

Come tell me without any guile ! " 
" By the faith of my body," then said the young man, 

It is but five little mile." 

Then Robin he hasted over the plain, 

He did neither stint nor lin, [ = tarry. 

Until he came unto the Church 

Where Allin should keep his wedding. 

" What dost thou here ? " the Bishop then said ; 
" I prithee now tell unto me." 
" I am a bold Harper," quoth Robin Hood, 
"And the best in the North Country." 

" welcome ! welcome ! " the Bishop he said; 
" That musick best pleaseth me." 
" You shall have no Musick," quoth Robin Hood, 
" Till the Bride and the Bridegroom I see." 

"With that came in a wealthy Knight, 

Which was both grave and old ; 

And after him a finikin Lass, [ = dainty, slender. 

Did shine like the glist'ring gold. 

" This is not a fit match," q[uo]d bold Robin Hood, 
" That you do seem to make here ; 

For since we are come unto the Church, 

The Bride shall chuse her own dear." 

Then Robin Hood put his horn to his mouth, 
And blew blasts two or three ; 
"When four and twenty bowmen bold 
Came leaping over the Lee. 

And when they came into the Church-yard, 

Marching all on a row, 

The first man was Allin a Dale 

To give bold Robin his bow. 

" This is thy true Love," Robin he said, 
" Young Allin, as I hear say ; 

And )'ou shall be married at the same time, 

Before we depart away." 

" That shall not be ! " the Bishop he said, 
" For thy word shall not stand : 

They shall be three times askt in the Church, 

As the Law is of our Land." 

496 Robin Hood and Allen-a-Dale. 

Robin Hood pull'd off the Bishop's coat, 

And put it upon Little John : 
" By the faith of my body," then Robin said, 
" This cloath doth make thee a man ! " 

"When Little John went into the Quire, 
The people began to laugh ; 
He askt them seven times in the Church, 
Lest three times should not be enough. 


" Who gives me this maid?" said Little John. 
Quoth Robin, " That do I ; 
And he that doth take her from Allin a Dale 
Full dearly he shall her buy, 

Full dearly he shall her buy." 

And thus having ended this merry wedding, 
The Bride she lookt like a Queen ; 
And so they return'd to the merry Green-wood, 
Amongst the leaves so green, 

Amongst the leaves so green. [With Allowance. 

Printed for Alex. Milbourn, Will. Ownley, Tho. Thackeray, at the 

Angel in Buck-Lane. 

[In Black-letter. Two woodcuts : 1st, small figure of a Bowman ; 2nd, the 
woman and prim man, as on p. 493. This ballad is No. 2 in Wm. Thackeray's 
List, but printed earlier. Pepys, for Alex. Milbourne, in Green Arbour Court, 
in the Little Old Baily. Douce, for Coles, Vere, Wright, and Clarke'] 

Little 3|ofm an& tbe jFout TBeggaw. 

" In Nottingham lived a jolly Tanner." — Ballad: see p. 502. 

Tl^HE tune of the following ballad, ' The Four Beggars,' is in 
,1 Popular Music, p. 392. It is the same tune as Robin Hood 
Revived ; or, R. H. and the Stranger ( = " Come listen a while, you 
gentlemen all : with a hey down," etc., vol. ii, 4:26). The Tanner, 
known as Arthur a Bland, belonged to Nottingham, whereunto 
the 'Progress' leads (p. 500), an earlier event in Robin's life. 
The Tanner claims to be a kinsman of Little John (p. 503), alias 
John Little, alias Greenleaf, of the Lytel Geste. That he had won 
the name of ' Little John ' by his burly stature, accords with the 
facetious contrariety of the 'merry men,' who nicknamed their 
miller's son ' Much,' because he was small as a Midge. 

"Robin Hood took them both by the hands, and danc'd round about the Oak tree : 
' For three merry men, and three merry men, and three merry men we be /' " 


[Roxburghe Coll., Ill, 10; Wood, 401, 33 verso; Pepys, II, 119; Garlands 

of 1663, 1670.] 

JLtttle 3Jol)it ant) tlje jfmtr Bccjcjers; 

3 mto mcrrp §>ottg of Robin Hood ano Little John, 
$5rtmng jjoto Little John tomt a begging, ano goto 
gc fougtjt Untg fouc Beggers, ano toijat a prije fie 
got of tfie font Beggers. 

The Tune is, Robin Hood mid the Begger [= Arthur a Bland}, etc. [p. 496.] 

A LI you that delight [for] to spend some time 
( With a hey down down, a down down) [Sic passim. 

A merry Song [for] to sing, 

Vnto me draw near, and you shall hear how Little John went 
a begging. 

As Robin Hood walked the Forest along, and all his yeomandree, 
Sayes Robin : " Some of you must a begging go ; and, Little John, 
it must be thee." 

Sayes John: "If I must a begging go, I will have a Palmer's weed ; 
"With a staff and a coat, and bags of all sorts, the better then 
shall I speed. 

" Come, give me now a bag for my bread, and another for my cheese ; 
And one for a penny, when as I get any, that nothing I may leese." 

Xow Little John is a begging gone, seeking for some relief; 
But of all the Beggers he met on the way, Little John was the chief. 

But as he was walking himself alone, four beggers he chanced 

to spy, 
Some deaf, and some blind, and some came behind : sayes John, 

" Here 's brave company ! " 

" Good morrow," said John, " my [breth]ren dear ; good fortune I 
had you to see : [t. children. 

Which way do you go ? pray let me know, for I want some 

" what is here to do then? " said Little John ; " why rings all 

these bells ? " said he. 
" What dog is a hanging? come let's be ganging, that we the truth 

may see." 


498 Little John and the Four Beggars. 

" Here is no dog hanging! " then one of them said, "good fellow, 
we tell unto thee ; 
But here is one dead will give us cheese and bread, and it may he 
one single penny." 

" "We have brethren in London" another he said ; "so have we in 

f Coventry^, [misp. the country. 

In Barwiek, and Dover, and all the world over ; but nere a crookt 
carrill like thee ! 

" Therefore stand thou back, thou crooked carel, and take that 

knock on the crown." 
"Nay," said Little John, " I'le not [yet] be gone, for a bout 

will I have with you round. 

" Now have at you all then," said Little John, " if you be so full 
of your blows. 
Fight on, all four, and ne're give o're, whether you be friends 
or foes." 

John nipped the Dumb, and made him to rore ; and the Blind 

that could not see, 
And he that a Cripple had been seven years — he made them run 

faster than he. 

And flinging them all against the wall, with many a sturdy bang, 
It made John sing to hear the gold ring which against the wall 
cry'd twang ! 

Then he got out of the Beggers' clo[a]k three hundred pound 
in gold. 
" Good fortune had I," then said Little John, " such a good sight 
to behold ! " 

[For] what found he in a Begger's bag, but three hundred pound 
and three ! 
" If I drink water while this doth last, then an evil death may I die. 

" And my begging trade I now will give o're, my fortune it hath 
been so good ; 
Therefore I'le not stay, but I will away to the Forest of merry 

But when to the Forrest of Sherwood he came, he quickly there 

did see 
His Master good, bold Robin LTood, and all his company. 

"What news? what news?" then said Robin Hood; "come, 
Little John, tell unto me ! 
How hast thou sped with the Beggar's trade ? for that I fain 
would see." 

Little John and the Four Beggars. 499 

" No news but good," then said Little John. " "With begging full 
well I have sped : 
Six hundred and three I have here for thee, in silver, and gold 
so red." 

Then Robin Hood took Little John by the hand, and danced about 
the Oke-tree : 
" If we drink water while this doth last, then an ill death may 
we die ! " 

So to conclude my merry new Song 

( With a hey down, down a down down), 
All you that delight it to sing, 
'Tis of Robin Hood, that Archer good, 
And how Little John went a Begging. 

London : Printed for W. Thackeray, T. Passenger, and W. Whitwood. 

[Roxb. in "White-letter. First, -woodcut, Four Beggars threatening Little John, 
who is cloaked, and wields his statf; 2nd, three men. Wood's b.-l. printed 
for W. Gilbertson ; Pepys for Wright, Clarke, Thackeray, and Passenger.'] 

*** Compare fragment in Percy Folio MS., i, 47. We give 'Robin Hood and 
the Tanner,' extra, on p. 502. It is one of the best, and was needed here. 

Eotun JJ>ootf£ Progress to iftotting&am. 

" I read 'A Lytell Geste of Robin Hode ' 

Within an ancient forest far withdrawn. 
The story rapt me in a wondrous mood, 

And I outread the dawn. 
There was a trembling light upon the page, 
The meeting of the morning aud the day ; 
The dewdrop shook not on the silent spray, 

The world forgot its age — 
The silent golden world, that morn in May." 

J. D. Hosken's Verses by the Way. 

TPHIS ballad tells of Robin Hood's early exploit in avenging the 
1 insults of 'Fifteen Foresters,' who mocked him on account of 
his being "fifteen winters old," and defrauded him of the wager, 
when he was going quietly to Nottingham to compete for a prize. 

An early life of Eobin Hood, in Sloane MS., 715, 7, fob 157 (cited by W. J. 
Thorns, Early Prose Romances, II, Robin Hood), gives an account of this quarrel, 
and explains better the laughter of the Rangers or Foresters. Robin is mocked 
by them for carrying such a massive bow as that which they deem no man can 
use. He declares that it is merely for birding-bolts, a slight thing compared to 
two others that he owns ; and he wagers his head on the success of his shot against 
their marks. After his success he returns their money to each of them, except the 
man who had showed a vicious desire to secure his failure and death. A quarrel 
ensues ; they support their comrade, and arc slain. 


[Eoxb. Collection, III, 270, 845 ; "Wood, 401, 87 ; 402, 14 verso ; Pepys, II, 104 ; 
Euing, 306 ; Douce, III, 114, 120 ; Lind., 1031 ; Garlands of 1663, 1670.] 

i&otrin tooti's progress to JlMtingijanu 

Where hee met with fifteen Forresters, all on a row, 
And hee desired of them some News for to know ; 
But with crosse grain'd words they did him thwart, 
For which at last hee made them for to smart. 

To Tune of, Bold Robin Hood and Q. Katherine [ = The Three Ravens, etc.]. 

Licensed and Entered according to Order. 

~DOBIN HOOD hee was and a tall young man, Derry derry down, 

And fifteen winters old ; 
And Robin Hood he was a proper young man, 

Of courage stout and bold. Hey down, derry derry doion. 

Robin Hood he would and to fair Nottingham, \_Derry, etc. passim. 

With the general for to dine ; [ g eneral= common-folk. 

There was he ware of fifteen Forresters, 

And a drinking bear ale and wine. Hey down, etc. [=bariey-aie. 

" What news ? what news ? " said bold Robin Hood, " what news, 

fain would'st thou know ? 
Our King hath provided a Shooting-match ; and I 'm ready with 

my bow." 

" We hold it in scorn," then said the Forresters, " that ever a boy 

so young 
Should bear a Bow before the King, that's not able to draw one 


"I'le hold you twenty marks," said bold Robin Hood, "by the 

leave of Our Ladye, 
That I'le hit a mark a hundred rod, and I'le cause a Hart to dye." 

" We '11 hold you twenty mark," then said the Forresters, " by the 

leave of Our Ladye, 
Thou hit'st not the marke a hundred rod, nor causest a Hart to dye." 

Robin Hood he bent up a noble bow, and a broad arrow he let flye ; 
He hit the mark a hundred rod, and he caused a Hart to dye. 

Some said hee brake ribs one or two, and some said hee brake three ; 
The arrow within the Hart would not abide, but it glanc'd in to 

|_a treej. [text, two misp. 'two or three.' 

The Hart did skip, and the Hart did leap, and the Hart lay on the 

ground : 
" The Wager is mine!" said bold Robin Hood, "if 'twer for a 

thousand pound." 

Robin Hood's Progress to Nottingham. 501 

" The Wager ? s none of thine," then said the Forresters, " although 

thou beest in haste : 
Take up thy bow, and get thee hence, lest we thy sides do baste." 

Robin Hood hee took up his noble Bow, and his broad Arrows all 

And Robin Hood he laugh'd and begun to smile, as hee went over 

the plain. 

Then Robin Hood hee bent his noble Bow, and his broad Arrows he 

let flye, 
Till fourteen of these fifteen Forresters vpon the ground did lye. 

He that did this quarrel first begin went tripping ouer the plain ; 
But Robin Hood he bent his noble Bow, and hee fetcht him back 

"You said I was no Archer," said Robin Hood; "but say so now 

again ! " 
"With that he sent another arrow, that split his head in twain. 

" You have found me an Archer," saith Robin Hood, " which will 

make your wives for to wring, 
And wish that you had neuer spoke the word, that I could not draw 

one string." 

The people that lived in fair Nottingham came running out amain, 
Supposing to haue taken bold Robin Hood, with the Forresters that 
were slain. 

Some lost legs, and some lost arms, and some did lose their blood ; 
But Robin Hood hee took up his noble Bow, and is gone to the 
merry Greenwood. 

They carry'd these Forresters into fair Nottingham, as many there 

did know ; 
They dig'd them graues in their churchyard, and they bury'd 

them all a-row. 

London : Printed for F. Coles, T. Vere, and /. Wright. 

[Black-letter. Two woodcuts: 1st, a deer chase — hunting match; 2nd, one 

man slaying a multitude. Wood's exemplars printed at London : 402, for 

Fran. Grove, and entered according to Order, 1620-50; 401, 87 = Roxb., 

before 1681. Pepysian, for /. Clarke, W. Thackeray, and T. Passenger , ,] 

*** This ballad accounts for Robin taking to the greenwood, in avoidance of 

punishment for killing the Rangers. Long before the Restoration it was popular. 

This is proved by the second stanza having been quoted (perhaps more accurately 

than it is found in extant broadsides or ' Garlands ') by the Duke of Newcastle, 

in his comedy 'The Variety,' printed in 1649, but written earlier, eircd 1639 — 

" When Robin came to Nottingham, his dinner all for to dine, 
There met him fifteene jolly Forresters, were drinking ale and wine." 


iftobm I&ooD ana t&e Canner; 
©r, aRotmt ^ooD met toitf) §10 flpatcg: 

SI mcrrg ano pleasant Sons tclattnrj tlje gallant ana fierce Cotnoate 
fougfjt bettoccn Arthur Bland, a banner of Nottingham, ano 
Robin Hood, tTje greatest ano most noblest &rcfjcr of England. 

The Tune is, Robin [Hood] and the Stranger. [See p. 496.] 

IN Nottingham there lives a jolly Tanner, with a hey down, down a down down ; 
His name is Arthur a Bland: 
There is ne're a 'Squire in Nottinghamshire dare bid bold Arthur stand. 

"With a long Pike-staff upon his shoulder, so well he can clear his "way, 
By two and by three he makes them to flee, for he hath no lust to stay. 

And as he went forth on a Summer's morning, into the Forrest of merry Sherwood, 
To view the red Deer, that range here and there, met he with bold Robin Mood. 

As soon as bold Robin Hood did him espy, he thought some sport he would make ; 
Therefore out of hand he bid him to stand, and thus to him he spake : 

" "Why, what art thou, thou bold fellow, that ranges so boldly here ? 

In sooth, to be brief, thou look'st like a thief, that comes to steal our King's deer. 

" For I am a Keeper in this Forrest, the King puts me in trust 

To look to his deer, that range here aud there ; therefore stay thee I must." 

" If thou beest a Keeper in this Forrest, and hast such a great command, 
Yet thou must have more partakers in store before thou make me to stand." 

" Nay, I have no more partakers in store, or any that I do need, 
But I have a Staff of another Oke graff; I know it will do the deed." 

" For thy sword and thy bow I care not a straw, nor all thine arrows to boot ; 
If I get a knop upon thy bare scop, thou canst as well s as shoot." 

" Speak cleanly, good fellow ! " said jolly Robin, " and give better terms to me ; 
Else I'le thee correct for thy neglect, and make thee more mannerly." 

"Marry, gep with a wenion !" quoth Arthur a Bland," art thou such a goodly man? 
I care not a fig for thy looking so big : mend thou thy self, where thou can." 

Then Robin Hood he unbuckled his belt, he laid down his Bow so long, 
He took up a Staff of another Oke graff, that was both stiff and strong. 

" I 'le yield to thy weapon," said jolly Robin, " since thou wilt not yield to mine ; 
For 1 have a Staff of another Oke graff, not half a foot longer than thine. 

*' But let us measure," said jolly Robin, " before we begin our fray ; 

For I 'le not have mine to be longer than thine, for that will be call'd foul play." 

" I pass not for length," bold Arthur reply'd, " my staff is of oke so free, 
Eight foot and a half, it will kuock down a calf ; and I hope it will knock down 

Then Robin Rood could no longer forbear ; he gave him such a knock, 
Quickly and soon the blood came down, before it was ten a clock. 

Then Arthur he soon recover'd himself, and gave him such a knock on the crown, 
That on every hair of bold Robin Mood the blood came trickling down. 

Then Robin Mood raged like a wild Boare, as soon as he saw his own blood ; 
Then Blandvias, in hast[e], he laid on so fast, as tho' he had been sta'kiug of wood. 

And about and about and about they went, like two wild Boars in a chase ; 
Striving to aim each other to maim — leg, arm, or any other- place. 

Robin Hood and the Tanner, Arthur a Bland. 503 

And knock for knock they lustily dealt, which held for two hours and more ; 
That all the wood rang at every bang, they ply'd their work so sore. 

" Hold thy hand ! hold thy hand ! " said Robin Hood, " and let our quarrel fall ; 
For here we may thresh our bones into mesh, and get no coyn at all : 

" And in the forrest of merry Sherwood hereafter thou shalt be free ! " 
" God-'a-mercy for nought ! my freedom I bought, I may thank my good staff 
and not thee." 

" "What Tradesman art thou ?" said jolly Robin, "good fellow, I prethee me show ; 
And also me tell, in what place thou dost dwell, for both these fain would I know." 

" I am a Tanner," bold Arthur reply'd, " in Nottingham long have I wrought ; 
And if thou 'It come there, I vow and do swear, I will tan thy hide for nought." 

" God-'a-mercy, good fellow ! " said jolly Robin, " since thou art so kind to me ; 
And if thou wilt tan my hide for nought, I will do as much for thee. 

" But if thou 'It forsake thy Tanner's trade, and live in green-wood with me, 
My name 's Robin Hood, I swear by the Rood I will give thee both gold and fee." 

" If thou be Robin Hood," bold Arthur reply'd, " as I think well thou art, 
Then here 's my hand ; my name 's Arthur a Bland : we two will never depart. 

" But tell me, tell me, where is Little John ? of him fain would I hear ; 
For we are ally'd by the mother's side, and he is my kinsman near." 

Then Robin Hood blew on the Beu^le-Horn, he blew both loud and shrill ; 
But quickly anon appear' d Little John, come tripping down a green hill. 

" 0, what is the matter?" then said Little John; "Master, I pray you, tell: 
Why do you stand with your staff in your baud? I fear all is not well." 

" man, I do stand, and he makes me to stand, the Tanner that [is] thee beside : 
He is a bonny blade, and master of his trade ; for soundly he hath tann'd my hide." 

" He is to be commended, then," said Little John, " if such a feat he can do ; 
If he be so stout, we will have a bout, and he shall tan my hide too." 

"Hold thy hand ! hold thy hand ! " said Robin Hood, " for, as I do understand, 
He 's a yeoman good, and of thine own blood, for his name is Arthur a Bland." 

Then Little John threw bis staff away, as far as he could it fling, 
Aud ran out of hand to Arthur a Bland, and about his neck did cling. 

With loving respect there was no neglect, they were neither nice nor coy ; 
Each th' other did face, with a lovely grace, and both did weep for joy. 

Then Robin Hood took them both by the hand, and danc'd round about the Oke 

" For three merry men, and three merry men, and three merry men we be ! [Note. 

" And ever hereafter, as long as I live, we three will be all one ; 

The wood shall ring, and the old wife sing, of Robin Hood, Arthur, and John." 

Printed for W. Gilbertson. [Wood's Coll., 401, 9 verso; Pepys, II, 111.] 
[Variations: stanza 18, raved ; cleaving wood: s. 29, over the hill.] 

After fighting two hours with the Tanner, Robin had won no victory, except of 
good temper. He relished a cudgelling as the best of introductions, and never 
despised an opponent, either before or after, but admired his prowess and made 
him a friend. (It was otherwise with bishops, or proctors, or sheriffs ; they 
being accounted noxious vermin, disentitled to law or mercy.) He laughs at 
a threat of having his hide tanned, and says, " I will do as much for thee." 

Note. — " Three merry men we be ! " is quoted in Twelfth Night, act ii, 3. 


[Roxburghe Collection, III, 728; Lindes., 1320; Douce, III, 125.] 

3&otmt $ogD antr SLittle 3JoJm: 

Being an account of t$m fim Meeting, and fierce 
<£ncounter> ilifeetotge tijetr iFricnolp Agreement, ano 
goto §e came to be calf Little John. 

[To the Tune of, Arthur a Bland ; or, Robin Hood and the Tanner, p. 502.] 

WHen Robin Hood was about twenty years old, 
Willi a hey down, down, and a down, 
He happen'd to meet Little John, 
A jolly brisk Blade, right fit for his Trade, [ a i. i. for the. 

For he was a lusty Young Man. 

Tho' he was call'd Little, his limbs were large, 

And his Stature was seven feet high ; 
Where-ever he came, they quak'd at his name, 

For soon he would make them to fly. 

How they came acquainted I '11 tell you in brief, 

If you will but listen awhile ; 
For this single jest, among all the rest, [ a .i. simple. 

I 'm sure it will make you to smile. 

[Bold] Robin Hood said to his jolly Bowmen, [text, For. j 

" Pray tarry you here in the Grove ; 
And see that you all observe well my call, 

"Whilst thorough the Forest I do rove. 

" "We have had no sport these fourteen long days, 

Therefore now abroad I will go ; 
But should I be beat, and cannot retreat, 

My horn I will presently blow." 

Then did he shake hands with his merry men, 

And bid them at present good-by ; [ a i. l. good b' w' ye. 

Then, as near to a brook his journey he took, 

A stranger he [chane'd] to spy. \_ a i. i. happen'd. 

They happen'd to meet on a long narrow bridge, 

And neither of them would give way ; 
Quoth bold Robin Hood, and sturdily stood, 

"I'll show you right Nottingham play." 

With that from his quiver an arrow he drew, 

A broad arrow with a goose wing : 
The stranger reply'd, " I'll liquor thy hide, 

If [th]ou offer to draw but a string." 

Robin Hood and Little John. 505 

Quoth bold Robin Hood: " Thou dost prate like an ass ; 

For were I to bend but my bow, 
I could send a dart quite thro' thy proud heart, 

.Before thou could'st strike me one blow." 

" Thou talk'st like a coward," the stranger reply'd ; 

" Well arm'd with a long bow you stand, 
To shoot at my breast ; whilst, I do protest, 

I have nought but a staff in my hand." 

" The name of a coward," quoth Robin, " I scorn, 

Wherefore my long bow 1 '11 lay by ; 
And now for thy sake a staff I will take, 

The truth of thy manhood to try." 

Then Robin Hood stept to a thicket of trees, 

And chose him a staff of ground oak ; 
Now this being done, to the stranger he run, 

And thus to him merrily spoke : 

" Lo ! here, see my staff, it is lusty and tough ; 

Now here on this bridge we will play : 
Whoever falls in, the other shall win 

The battle, and so we '11 away." 

" With all my whole heart," the stranger reply'd ; 

" I scorn in the least to give out " : 
This said, they fell to 't, without more dispute, 

And their staffs they did flourish about. 

And first Robin gave the stranger a bang, 

So hard that he made his bones ring : 
The stranger he said, " This must be repaid ; 

I '11 give you as good as you bring. 

" So long as I 'in able to handle my staff, 

To die in your debt, friend, I scorn" : 
Then to it [each] goes, and follow their blows, o^/botti. 

As tho' they were thrashing of corn. 

The stranger gave Robin a crack on the crown, 

Which caused the blood to appear ; 
Then Robin, enraged, more fiercely engaged, 

And follow'd his blows more sincere. 

So thick and so fast he did lay it on him, 

With a passionate fury and ire ; 
At every stroke he made him to smoke, 

As though he had been all on tire. 

506 Robin Hood and Little John. 

then in a fury the stranger he grew ; 
And gave him a damnable look, 

And with it a blow, which laid him full low, 
And tumbled him into the brook. 

" I prithee, good fellow, where art thou now ? " 

The stranger in laughter he cry'd. 
Quoth bold Robin Hood : " Good faith ! in the flood, 

And floating along with the tide. 

" I needs must acknowledge thou art a brave soul ; 

With thee I '11 no longer contend ; 
For needs must I say, thou hast got the day ; 

Oar battle shall be at an end." 

Then strait to the bank he did presently wade, 

And pull'd himself out by a thorn ; 
Which done, at the last, he blew a loud blast, 

Straitway on his fine bugle-horn : 

The eccho of which through the vallies did ring, 

At which his stout bowmen appear'd, 
All cloathed in green, most gay to be seen ; 

Then up to their master they steer' d. 

" 0, what is the matter?" quoth William Stutely ; 

" Good master, you are wet to the skin." 
" No matter," said he, " the lad that you see 

In fighting hath tumbled me in." 

" He shall not go scot-free," the others reply'd ; 

So strait they were seizing him there, 
To duck him likewise ; but Robin Hood cries : 

" He is a good fellow. Forbear ! 

" There is no one shall wrong thee, so be not afraid ; 

These bowmen upon me do wait. 
There 's threescore and nine : if thou wilt be mine, 

Thou shalt have my livery strait ; [pp. 482, 532. 

"And other accoutrements fitting also : 
Speak up, jolly blade ; never fear: 

1 shall teach thee also the use of the bow 
To shoot at the fair fallow deer." 

" here is my hand," the stranger reply'd ; 
" I '11 serve you with all my heart. 
My name is John Little, a man of much mettle ; 
Never doubt me but I shall play my part." 


Robin Hood and Little John. 507 

" His name shall be alter'd," quoth William Stutely ; 

And I will his godfather be : 
Prepare then a feast, and none of the least ; 

For we will be merry," quoth he. 

They soon did fetch in a brace of fat deer, 

With humming strong liquor likewise : 
They lov'd that was good, so in the green wood 

This lovely sweet babe they baptize. 

He was, I must tell you, but seven feet high, 

And may be an ell in the waist ; 
A pretty sweet lad : much feasting they had : 

Bold Robin the christening grac'd, 

With all his bowmen, that stood in a ring, 

And were of the Nottingham breed. 
Brave Stutely came then with seven yeomen, 

And did in this manner proceed: 

" This infant was call'd John Little,'''' quoth he, 

" Which name shall be changed anon : 
The words we '11 transpose ; where-ever he goes 

His name shall be call'd Little John." 

They all with a shout made the elements ring : 

So soon as the office was o'er, 
To feasting they went, in great merriment, 

And tipled strong liquor golore. \. aJ - giiiore 

Then Robin LTood took the pretty fine babe, 

And cloath'd him from top to the toe, 
In garments of green, so gay to be seen ; 

And g[ave] him a curious long bow. [<. gives. 

" Thou shalt be an archer, as well as the best, 

And range in the green woods with us, 
Where we '11 not want gold, nor silver, behold, 

Whilst bishops have ought in their purse. 

" We live here like squires or lords of renown, 

Without ever a foot of free land : 
We feast on good cheer; with ale, wine, or beer, 

And every thing at command." 

Then musick and dancing did finish the day ; 

At length when the sun waxed low, 
Then all the whole train the grove did refrain, 

And unto their caves they did go. 

508 "A. famous Man is Bobiti Hood, the English ballad -singers' joy." 

And thus ever after, as long as he liv'd, 

Altho' he was proper and tall, 
Yet, nevertheless, the truth to express, 

Still Little John they do him call. 
Printed and Sold in .ZW'-Church-yard, London. [White-letter.] 

[Woodcut of a man standing on a bridge ; another man struggling in the water. 
Lindes. is Black-letter 'printed for /r. Onley.' Date, circa, 1680-5.] 

IRofnn J&ootPs <$oltien IPtt^e. 

" Anon I heard their horns begin to blow : 
Then, in despite of age and time, arose 
A woodland song, that leaning on her bow 
Maid Marian thus did close: 
' mad, mad world ! happy life of ours ! 
Sing and be merry — evil is a thought 
Which our own natural lives have brought to nought ! 

O happy, happy hours ! 
Who cares to fret and pine for what is not ? ' " 

J. D. Hosken's Verses by the Way. 

ACTING on what "Wordsworth called " the good old rule, the 
simple plan, that they should take who have the power, and 
they should keep who can!" — liobin Hood enforced the political 
economy of equalizing wealth ; to point the moral olDate et Dabitur. 

Joseph Eitson wrote in 1791 — "The genius which has been successfully exerted 
in contributing to the instruction or amusement of society, in even the rudest 
times, seems to have some claim upon its gratitude for protection in more 
enlightened ones. It is a superannuated domestic, whose past services entitle 
his old age to a comfortable provision and retreat ; or rather, indeed, a humble 
friend, whose attachment in adverse circumstances demands the warm and 
grateful acknowledgements of prosperity. The venerable though nameless bards 
whom the generosity of the public is now courted to rescue from oblivion and 
obscurity, have been the favourites of the people for ages, and could once boast 
a more numerous train of applauding admirers than the most celebrated of our 
modern poets [written in 179u]. Their compositions, it may be true, have few 
charms in the critical eye of a cultivated age ; but it should always be remembered 
that, without such efforts, humble as they are, cultivation or refinement would 
never exist, and barbarism and ignorance be eternal. It is to an Ennius, perhaps, 
that we are indebted for a Virgil ; to such writers as Peek and Greene, or others 
still more obscure, that we owe the admirable dramas of our divinest Shakespeare ; 
and if we are ignorant of the comparatively wretched attempts which called 
forth the deservedly immortal powers of Homer or Chaucer, it is by no means to 
be inferred that they were the earliest of poets, or sprung into the world, as has 
beensaid of the inimitable dramatist already mentioned, like Minerva out of the 
head of Jupiter, at full growth and mature. 

' Vixere fortes ante Agamemnona 
Multi; sed omnes illacrymabiles 
Urgentur, ignotique longa 

Nocte.' " Preface to Ancient Popular Poetry, 1791. 

Byron paraphrased Horace's Ode, iv, 9 (in Bon Juan, canto I, st. 5), 
" Brave men were iiving before Agamemnon, 
And since, exceeding valourous and sage ; 
A good deal like him, too, though quite the same, none." 


[Roxburghe Collection, III, 12, 486; Wood's, 401, 39 verso; Pepys, II, 114; 
Douce, III, 121 ; R. H. Garlands, 1663, 1670.] 

l&otmt ^ootfs dMDen $rt3e: 

&>grtmttg jjoto §c lobfaco ttoo priegtg of fitot gimovco 


He met two Priests upon the way, 

And forced them with him to pray : 

For Gold they pray'd, and Gold they had, 

Enough to make bold Robin glad. 

His share came to three hundred pound ; 

That then was told upon the ground. 

Now mark, and you shall hear the jest, 

You never herd the like exprest. 

The Ttjne is, Robin Hood teas a tall young man [p. 500]. 

{Have heard talk of bold Robin Hood, derry derry doivn, 
and of brave Little John ; 
Of Fryer Tuck and William Scarlet, Loxley, and Maid Marion : 

Hey down, derry, derry down. [passim. 

But such a tale as this before — I think there was never none : 
For Robin Hood disguised himself, and to the green-wood is gone. 

Like to a Fryer bold Robin Hood was accoutred in his array ; 
With hood, gown, beads, and crucifix, he pasa'd upon the way. 

He had not gone past miles two or three, but it was his luck to spy 
Two lusty Priests, clad all in black, come riding gallantly. 

510 Robin Hood's Golden Prize. 

" Benedicite ! " then said Robin Hood, " some pitty on me take ! 
Cross you my hand with a silver groat, for Our dear Ladie's sake : 

" For I have been wand'ring all this day, and nothing could I get ; 
Not so much as one poor cup of drink, nor bit of bread to eat." 

"Now, by our holy-dame!" the Priests reply'd, "we never a 
penny have ; 
For we this morning have been robb'd, and could no money save." 

" I am much afraid," said Robin Hood, " that you both do tell a lye ; 
And now, before you do go hence, I am resolv'd to try." 

When as the Priests heard him say so, they rode away amain ; 
Put Robin Hood betook him to his heels, and soon overtook them 

Then Robin Hood laid hold on them both, and pull'd them down 
from their horse : 
"0 spare us, Fryer!" the Priests cry'd out, "on us have some 
remorse ! " Hey down, derry, derry down. 

"You said you had no money !" quoth he; "wherefore, without 
We three will fall down on our knees, and for money we will pray." 

The Priests they could not him gainsay, but down they kneel'd 
with speed : 
"Send us, send us" (then quoth they), "some money to serve 
our need ! " 

The Priests did pray, with a mournful chear; sometimes their 

hands did ring ; 
Sometimes they wept and cry'd aloud, whilst Robin did merrily sing. 

When they had been praying an hour's space, the Priests did 

still lament : 
Then quoth bold Robin, " Now let us see what money heaven 

hath us sent. 

" We will be sharers now, all alike, of the money that we have ; 
And there is never a one of us that his fellows shall deceive." 

The Priests their hand in their pockets put, but money could 
find none. 
" We '1 search, our selves" (said Robin Hood), "each other one 
by one." 

Then Robin took pains to search them both, and he found good 

store of gold ; 
Five hundred pieces presently upon the ground was told. 

Robin Rood's Go /den Prize. 511 

" Here is a brave show ! " said Robin Hood, "such store of gold to see', 
And you shall each one have a part, 'cause you pray'd so heartily." 

He gave them fifty pounds a piece, and the rest for himself did keep ; 
The Priests durst not speak one word, but they sigh'd wondrous 

With that the Priests rose up from their knees, thinking to have 
parted so : 
" Nay, stay ! " (said Robin Hood), " one thing more, I have to say 
ere you do go. 

" You shall be sworn " (said bold Robin Hood), "upon this holy grass, 
That you will never tell lyes again, which way soever you pass. 

" The second Oath that here you must take : All the days of your lives, 
You never shall tempt maids to sin, nor lie with other men's wives. 

" The last Oath you shall take, it is this : Be charitable to the poor ! 
Say you have met with a Holy Fryer, and I desire no more." 

He set them on their horses again, derry, \_derry down'], and away 

then they did ride ; 
And he return'd to the merry Green-wood, with great joy, mirth, 

and pride : hey down, derry, derry down. 

jFl'm'S. L[aurence] P[rice]. [Wood's ex. 

Printed for F. Co/es, T. Vere, J. Wriyht, and J. C/arke. 

[Black-letter. Three -woodcuts : 1st, the Proctor, with sealed roll in his hand, 
as on p. 521, post, and Michaelmas Term Bag ford Ballad; 2nd, the circular- 
plate with six human figures — Bishop, Robin, the Beggar, Little John (very 
small), Friar Tuck, and Maid Marian — from Robin Hood Garlands: copied 
into J. 0. H alii well's Popular English Histories, p 72, Percy Society publica- 
tion No. 79, 1848. The third picture, given on p. 509, had originally belonged 
to 'Robin Hood and the Bishop'; reprinted in vol. ii, 449. Date of this 
Roxb. broadside, 1674 ; but the true date of the ballad is twenty years earlier, 
before the Puritanic interdict was removed by Cromwell, and it was entered in 
Stationers' Registers to Francis Grove on 2nd June, 1656. Wood's exemplar, 
'printed for F. Grove on Snow-hill; entered according to Order,' with Laurence 
Price's initials. Pepysian, printed for Wm. Thackeray.'] 

Eotmt JJ)ooD'0 C&ase, 

WE see no reason to doubt that 'T. R.,' whose initials attest his 
authorship of the present ballad and of ' Robin Hood and the 
Beggar,' p. 520 (as well as some other recasts of old materials, in 
previous vol. vi, 604), was the Thomas Robins, a loyal ballad-singer 
of Oxford, whom Anthony a Wood knew at the Restoration. 

This ballad (No. ix of Thackeray's List) is a sequel to ' Robin 
Hood and Queen Katherine,' which was reprinted in vol. ii, p. 419. 


[Roxburghe Collection, III, 14, 418; Wood, 401, 291 verso; Pepys, II, 104; 
Douce, III, 121 vo. ; Case, 22, e. 2, fol. 74 ; Jersey, II, 224=Lmdes., 279 ; 
Robin Hood Garlands of 1683, 1670.] 

iRnfttn Monti's £\>a$t ; 


51 Sercp progress fatten Robin Hood atttl &Uig Henry : 

Sftctomrj fjoto Robin Hood Ieti the 3jtmcf his ^Dfjase, from London ta 
[ Chester, antj back again to] London ; anti uihm he hati spoken 
faritft tfje (Ehtccn [Katherine], he tcturnefo ta tnerrg Sherwood. 

To the Tune of, i?oi«'« Hood and the Beggar. [See p. 515, post.~\ 

COme, you Gallants all, to you I do call 
( With hey doion, down, an a down) {Sic passim. 

That now is "within this place, 
For a song I will sing of Henry the King, 
How he did Robin Hood chase. 

Queen Katherine she a match did make, 
As plainly doth appear, 
For three hundred tun of good red Wine, 
And three hundred tun of heer. 

But yet her Archers she had to seek, 
With their Bows and Arrows so good ; 
But her mind was bent with a good intent 
To send for bold Robin Hood. 

And when bold Robin Hood he came there, 
Queen /Catherine she did say : 
"Thou art welcome, Lockslyl " said the Queen, 
" And all thy Yeomen gay ; 

" For a match of shooting I have made, with hey, etc., 
And thou on my part must be ! " 
Robin. — " If I miss the mark, be it light or dark, 
Then hanged I will be ! " 

But when the Game it come to be play'd, 
Bold Robin Hood then drew nigh, 
With his mantle of green, most brave to be seen ; 
He let his arrows flye. 

And when the Game it ended was, 
Bold Robin wan it with a grace ; 
Then after the King was angry with him, 
And vowed he would him chase. 

Robin Hood's Chase by the King. 513 

"What though his pardon granted was, [See vol. ii, p. 421. 

"While he with them did stay, 

Yet, after, the King was vex'd at him, 

When he was gone his way. 

Soon after the King from the Court did hye, 
In a furious, angry mood, 
And did often euquire, hoth far and near, 
Alter bold Robin Mood. 

And when the King to Nottingham came 
Bold Robin was in the wood : 
" come now," said he, " and let me see 
"Who can find me bold Robin Hood." 

But when that Robin Hood he did hear 

The King had him in chase, 

" Then," said Little John, " 'tis time to be gone, 

And go to some other place." [second Part. 

THen away they went from merry Sherwood, 
With hey doivn, down, an a down, 
And into Yorkshire he did hye; 
And the King did follow, with a hoop and a hollow, 
But could not come him nigh. 


Yet jolly Robin he passed along, with hey, etc., 
He went to Newcastle town ; 
And then stayed he, hours two or three, 
And then he for Harwich was gone. 

e • 

"When the King did see how Robin did flee, 
He was vexed wondrous sore ; 
With a hoop and a hollow he vow'd him to follow 
And take him, or never give o're. 

" Come now, let 's away ! " then cry'd Little John, 

u Let any man follow that dare ; 

To Carlisle we '1 hye, with our company, 

And so then to Lancaster '." 

From Lancaster then to Chester they went, 
And so did King Henry ; 
Then Robin away, for he durst not stay, 
For fear of some treachery. 

Says Robin : " Let us to London go, 
To see our noble Queen's face ; 
It may be she wants our company, 
"Which makes the King so us chase." 


514 Robin Hood's Chase by the King. 

When Robin he came Queen Katharine before, 
He fell low upon his knee : 

"If it please your Grace, I am come to this place 
Tor to speak with. King Henry." 

Queen Katherine she answer'd bold Robin again : 
" The King is gone to merry Sherwood ; 
And when he went away, to me he did say, 
He would go seek Robin Hood." 

"Then fare you well, my gracious Queen, 
For to Sherwood I will hye apace ; 
For fain would I see what he would with me 
If I could meet his Grace." 

When as King Henry he came home 

Full weary and vexed in mind, y, and full vexed. 

Then he did hear Robin had been there, 

And blamed Dame Fortune unkind. 

"You are welcome home," Queen Katherine cry'd, 
" Henry, my Sovereign Liege! 
Bold Robin Hood, that archer good, 
Your person hath been to seek." 

And when King Henry he did hear, with hey, etc., 
That Robin had been there him to seek, 
This answer he gave : " He 's a cunning knave ; 
I have sought him this whole three week." 

" A boon ! a boon ! " Queen Katherine cry'd, with hey, etc., 

" I beg it here on your Grace : 

To pardon his life, and seek no more strife " : 

And so endeth ' Robin Hood's Chase.' 

Jt'm'S. T. R. [i.e. Thomas Robins : Wood's, cf. vi, 604]. 

London, printed for F. Coles, T. Vere, J. Wright, and J. Clarice. 

[Black-letter. The woodcut was one used for the hallad on Sir Thomas 
Stukely of Queen Elizabeth's reign : a woodcut described, in its threefold 
variations, on p. 575 of the preceding vol. vii, whence the cut was delayed. Its 
origin is doubtful, as the figures surrounding the sheriff (?) appear to be armed 
Scotchmen ; but they may nevertheless be intended for Robin Hood's comrades, 
who were good swordsmen, not always clad in what he styled his "livery" 
of green, or brown (see p. 532). Compare ' Robin Hood and Queen Katherine ' 
(vol. ii, p. 419), fur which this ballad is a substitute or almost a sequel.] 


Eiotun l&ootJ ann tfjc beggar* 

t'th the Eescue of tlje HLfyxcz Squires at Hottmrjljam.) 

MHHIS is to the same tune of Robin Hood and the Stranger, and 
JL signed by the same " T. R." who re-cast both ballads, viz. 
' Robin Hood's Chase ' and the present one of the Beggar. We can 
trace back the early version, which Thomas Robins adapted. 

The woful destruction of the bottom half of the 'Robin Hood' 
pages (58 in number), at beginning of the Percy Folio MS., has 
deprived us of much that was valuable, since the later texts were 
corrupted and vulgarized. The fragments known as ' Robin Hood 
and the Old Man' agree partly with our Roxb. ballad on 'The 
Beggar,' but lack beginning and end, and have a gap in the middle. 
Robert Jamieson was able to print these in 1806, among his Popular 
Ballads and Songs, vol. ii, pp. 49-53, from Bishop Percy's Folio MS. ; 
sixty-two years before it became generally accessible. We give 
them here, for comparison, but run on the half-lines, and add 
quotational commas : as we have done elsewhere. 

[Percy Folio MS., p. 5. 

<(****# j n f a jth thou shall have mine, 
And 20s. in thy purse Jto speud at t'ale and wine." 

"Though your clothes are of light lincolne green, & mine gray russett and torne, 
Yet it doth not you beseeme to doe an old man scorne." 

" I scorne thee not, old man," says Robin, "by the faith of my body : 
Doe off thy clothes, thou shalt lutue mine, for it may noe better bee." 

516 ' Robin Hood and the Old Man ' (Percy Folio MS.). 

But Robin did on this old man's hose ; the[y] were tome in the -wrist : [the, passim. 
" When I looke on my leggs " (said Robin), "then for to laugh I list." 

But Robin did on the old man's shooes, and they were clitt full cleane : [ = clouted. 
" Now, by my faith " (sayes Litle John), " these are guod for thornes keeue." 

But Robin did on the old man's cloake, and it was torne in the necke : 

" Now, by my faith " (said Wm. Scarlett), "here shold be set a specke." [= patch. 

But Robin did on this old man's hood, it goggled on his crowne : 

"When I come into Nottingham" (said Robin)," my hood it will lightly downe." 

" But yonder is an outwood " (said Robin), " an outwood all and a shade, 

And thither I reede you, my merry men all, the ready way to take ; [= charge. 

" And -when you heare my litle borne blow, come raking all on a rowte," 

* * [Half this first p. of Percy Folio IIS. destroyed. 

[Then Robin set his] home to his mouth, a loud blast co'ld he blow ; 
Full three hundred bold yeomen came rakinge all on a row. 

But Robin cast downe his baggs of bread, soe did be his staffe with a face, 
And in a doublet of Bed veluett this yeoman stood in his place. 

But Robin he lope, and Robin he threw, he lope over stocke and stone ; 

But those that saw Robin Hood run, said he was a liuer old man. [ =an active. 

" But bend your bowes, and stroke your strings, set the gallow tree aboute ; 
And Christe's curse on his heart" (said Robin) "that spares the sheriffe [his 

"When the sheriffe see gentle Robin wo'ld shoote, he held vp both his hands ; 
Sayes : "Aske, good Robin, and thou shalt haue, whether it be house or land." 

" I will neither haue house nor land " (said Robin)," nor gold, nor none of thy fee ; 
But I will haue those 3 squires to the green forest with me." 

" Now, marry, god forbode," said the sheriffe, " that, euer that sho'ld bee ; 
For why, they be the King's Felons, they are all condemned to dye." 

" But grant me my askinge " (said Robin), " or, by me faith of my body, 
Thou shalt be the first Man shall flower this gallow tree. 

" But I will haue those 3 squires " 

[Cetera desuntj] 

Fortunately we possess the later broadsides and Garlands to finish the tale. 
Robin Mood and the Stranger is another name for the tune of R. H. and Queen 
Katherine (vol. ii, 419) : an early version of which ballad is in Percy Folio MS., 
p. 15 ; there preceded by this stanza:— 

"Now list you, lithe you, Gentlemen, a while for a litle space, 
And I shall tell you how Queene Kalterine gott Robin Hood his grace. 
Gold taken from the King's harbeugers," etc. [<y. jj, 419. 

With bold defiance of chronology, and heedless of anachronisms, the ballad 
minstrel has taken Henry VIII and Queen Katharine of Arragon to patronize 
Robin Hood; unless, indeed, Henry V and his French wife Kate were meant. 
No other King Henry of England had a queen so named, but Henry VIII had 
three of them. It could not be Katharine Howard, nor was it probably 
Katharine Parr. 


[Roxb. Coll., Ill, 20 ; Wood, 401, 23 v. ; Pepys, II, 116 ; Garlands, 1663, 1670.] 

iRotrin I^ooD anti tl)e Beggar: 

£>DcUnng Soto Robin Hood anO tfie Beggar fought, anti 
goto f)t cljangco Cloatlja tottfj tijt Beggar, ant) Ijoto gc 
tontt a Begging to Nottingham ; ano ijoto \}t gatjcti 
t&rec Brerljrm from faring gangeo for stealing tfie 

^ing'0 HDecr* 

To the Tune of, Robin Hood and the Stranger [Pop. Music, p. 392.] 

COme light and listen, you Gentlemen all, tvith hey down, down, 
That mirth do love for to hear, [and a doion. 

And a Story true I 'le tell unto you, if that you will but draw near. 

In elder times, when merriment was, and Archery was holden good, 
There was an Out-law, as many did know, which men called Robin 

Vpon a time it chanced so, bold Robin was merry dispos'd, 
His time to spend, he did intend, either with friend or foe[s]. 

Then he got up on a gallant fine Steed, the which was worth 
Angels ten, [merry men ; 

With a Mantle of green, most brave to be seen, he left all his 
And riding towards fair Nottingham, some pastime for to spy, 
There was he aware of a jolly Beggar, as e're he beheld with his eye. 

518 Robin Hood and the Beggar. 

An old patch'd coat the Beggar had on, which he daily did use for 
to wear ; 

And many a bag about him did wag, which made Robin Hood to 
him repair : 

" God speed ! God speed ! " said Robin Hood then ; " What country- 
man, tell unto me ? " 

"I am Yorkshire, sir; but, e're you goe far, some charity give 
unto me." 

"Why, what would'st thou have?" said Robin Hood, "I pray 

the[e] tell unto me." 
"No Lands, nor no Livings," the Beggar he said, "but a penny 

for charity." 
"I have no money," said Robin Hood then, "but a Ranger within 

the Wood ; 
I am an Out-law, as many do know : my name it is Robin Hood. 

"But yet, I must tell thee, bonny Beggar, that a bout with thee 

I must try ; 
Thy coat of gray, lay down, I say, and my mantle of green shall 

lye by." 

[Roxb. wrongly marks here the Second Part. 

" Content ! content ! " the Beggar he cry'd, 

With hey doicn, down, and a down : 
"Thy part it will be the worse ; 
For I hope this bout to give thee the rout, 
And then have at thy Purse ! " 

The Beggar he had a mickle long staff, and Robin had a nut-brown 

ISword ; 
So the Beggar drew nigh, and at Robin let fiy, but gave him never 

a word. 
"Fight on! fight on!" said Robin Hood then; "this game well 

pleaseth me : " 
For every blow then Robin did give, the Beggar gave buffets 


And fighting there, full hard and sore, not far from Nottingham 

They never fled, till from Robin's head the blood came trickling 

" hold thy hand ! " said Robin Hood then, " and thou and I will 

"If that be true," the Beggar he said, "thy Mantle come give 

unto me." 

Robin Hood rescues the three Squires. 519 

"!Nay, a change, a change! " cry'd Hob in Hood ; "thy Bags and 

Coat give me, 
And this Mantle of mine I 'le to thee resign, my horse and my 

When Robin had got the Beggar's cloaths, he looked round about ; 
" Methinks," said be, " I seem to be a Beggar brave and stout : 

" For now I have a bag for my bread, so have I another for corn ; 
I have one for malt, and another for salt, and one for my little 

And now I will a beg[p:]ing go, some charity to find ! " 
And if any more of Robin you '1 know, in the Second Part it's 


[(Ehc Seconal |3art : To the Same Tune.] 

NOw Robin he is to Nottingham gone, \_ a i. led. bound. 

With hey down, down, and a down, 
With his bags hanging down to his knee, 
His staff and his Coat, scarce worth a groat, yet merrily passed he. 

As Robin he passed the streets along, he heard a pittiful cry : 
Three Brethren dear, as he did hear, condemned were to dye. 
Then Robin he hyed to the Sheriffs, some relief for to seek ; 
He skipt and he leapt, and capor'd full high, as he went along the 

But when to the Sheriff's door he came, he met a Gentleman fine 

and brave : 
"Thou Beggar," said he, "come tell unto me, what is it that thou 

wouldst have ? " 
" No meat, nor drink," said Robin then, " that I come here to crave, 
But to beg the lives of youngmen three, and that I fain would have." 

" That cannot be, thou bold Beggar, their fact it is so cleer ; 

I tell to thee, hang'd they must he, for stealing of the King Deer." 

But when to the Gallows they did come, there was many a weeping 

" hold your peace! " said Robin then, "for certainly they shalt 

not dye." 

Then Robin he set his horn to his mouth, and blew but blasts three, 
Till a hundred [of his] bold Archers brave came kneeling down on 

their knee. 
"What is your will ? Master ! " they said, "we are here at your 

"Shoot East, shoot West," said Robin then, "and look that ye 

spare no man." 

520 Robin Hood rescues the three Squires. 

Then they shoot East, and they shoot West, their Arrows were so 

keen ; 
The Sheriff he and his company, no longer must he seen. 
Then he stept to these .Brethren three, and away he had them 

ta'ne ; 
But the Sheriff was crost, and many a man lost, that lay dead on 

the plain. 

And away they went into the merry Greenwood, 

With hey \_duivn, doion and a down'], 
And sung with a merry glee ; 
Then Robin Hood took these Brethren good, to be of his Yeomanry. 

[ Text, one of. 

London, Printed for F. Cotes, T. Vere, and J. Wright. 

jFltttS* T. K. [probably Tbomas Robins or Rawlins.] 

[Black-letter. One woodcut, p. 517, Robin with the old woman, and horsemen 
behind; properly belonging to ' R. H. and the Bishop.' Date, cited 1656.] 

*** The Roxb., "Wood's, and Pepysian exemplars do not extend to the long 
Continuation (beyond what is probably by Thomas Robins, bearing his initials 
T. R.), " l.yth and listen, gentlemen," etc. Ninety -three extra stanzas, of no 
particular merit. They are found in Douce Coll., IV, 88, and were reprinted in 
Ritson's Robin Hood, I, 97, 1795; in J. M. Gutch's R. H., ii, ^30; and in 
J. S. Moore's Book of British Ballads, i, 194, 1849. Ritson used "a modern 
copy, printed at Newcastle" [if one of John White'' s it cannot have been later 
than 1769, the date of his death], " where it was accidentally picked up, no other 
edition having been ever seen or heard of." The original title was 'A Pretty 
Dialogue betwixt liobin Hood and a Beggar.' Also an Aberdeen version — Douce, 
HII, 88. It is mosaic-work of older fragments, without division into stanzas: 
in fact, a Robin Hood Garland, not a continuation of the foregoing ballad. The 
opening shows it to be an adaptation from the early 'Li/til Geste of Robyn Hode,' 
printed by Wynkynde "Worde (see p. 485), beginning, " Lythe and listin, gentil- 
men, that be of frebore blode." A few lines of the modernization 'Beggar' 
may suffice : — 

" T Yth and listen, Gentlemen, that be of high-born blood, 
JLi I '11 tell you of a brave booting that befell Robin Hood : 
Robin Hood upon a day he went forth him alane, 
And as he came from Barnesdale into a fair evening, 
Be met a Beggar on the way, who sturdily could gang, 
Be had a pike staff in his hand, that was both stark and strong. 

A clouted clnak about him was, that held him from the cold, 
The thinnest bit of it, I guess, was more than twenty fold; 
Bis meal-pock hung about his neck, into a leathern whang, [a.l. fang. 

"Well fasten'd to a broad buckle that was botli stark and Strang. 
Be had three hats upon his head, together sticked fast ; 
Be car'd neither for wind nor wet, in lands where'er he past. 
Good Robin coast him in the way, to see what he might be : 
If any beggar had money (he thought), some part [of it] had he." Etc. 


[Roxburghe Coll., Ill, 16 ; Wood, 401, 15 ; Pepys, I, 78 ; II, 99 ; Douce, II, 
184 ; Lind., 682 ; Huth, II, 09.] 

%\)t jfamous Battle between i&otrin 
$ooti anfc t\)t Curtal jfrper. 

To a new Northern Tune [ = Tanner o/ Tamicorth, p. 502]. 

IN Summer time, when leaves grow green 
And flowers are fresh and gay, 
Robin Hood and his merry men, 
Were disposed to play. 

Then some would leap, and some would run, 
And some would use Artillery; rjrtil.= arrows. 

" Which of you can a good Bow draw, L' 1 Sam. xx, io.) 

A good Archer for to be ? — 

" Which of you can kill a Buck, 

Or who can kill a Doe? 

Or who can kill a Hart of Greece, [ = grease, grice. 

Five hundred foot him fro' ? " 

522 Battle between Robin Hood and the Curtal Friar. 

Will Scadloch he kil'd a B uck, t = wm ScarM : Allcn ? 

And Midge he kil'd a Doe, [ =Mtteh, the Miller's Son. 

And Little John kil'd a Hart of Greece, 
Five hundred foot him fro'. 

" God's blessing on thy heart ! " said Robin Hood, 

" That shot such a shoot to me ; 

I would ride my horse a hundred miles 

To find one could match [with] thee." 

That caused Will Scadloch to laugh, 

He laught full heartily : 

"There lives a curtal Fryer in Fountain's Abb[e~]y, 

Will beat both him and thee. 

" That curtal Fryer in Fountain's Abby 
Well can a strong Bow draw ; 
He will beat you and your yeomen, 
Set them all on a row." 

Robin Hood took a solemn Oath, 
It was by Mary free, 
That he would neither eat nor drink 
Till the Fryer he did see. 

Robin Hood put on his Harness good, 
And on his head a cap of steel ; 
Broad-sword and Buckler by his side, 
And they became him weel. 

He took his Bow into his hand, 
It was made of a tru«ty tree ; 
With a sheaf of arrows at his Belt, 
To the Fountain's Bale went he. 

And coming unto the Fountain's Dale, 

No farther would he ride, 

There was he ware of a Curtal Fryer [ = short-robed Franciscan. 

Walking by the water-side. 

The Fryer had on a Harness good, 
And on his head a cap of steel ; 
Broad sword and Buckler by his side, 
And they became him weel. 

Robin Hood lighted off his horse, 

And tyed him to a thorn : 

" Carry me over the river, thou Curtal Fryer, 

Or else thy life 's forlorn." 

Battle between Robin Hood and the Cartal Friar. 523 

The Fryer took Robin Hood on his back, 
Deep water he did bestride, 
And spake neither good word nor bad, 
Till he came at the other side. 

Lightly step'd Robin Hood off the Fryer's back ; 
The Fryer said to him again : 
" Carry me over this water, thou fine fellow, 
Or it shall breed thy pain." 

Robin Hood took the Fryer on his back, 
Deep water he did bestride, 
And spake neither good word nor bad, 
Till he came at the other side. 

Lightly leapt the Fryer off Robin Hood's back ; 
Robin Hood, said to him again : 
" Carry me over this water, thou Curtal Fryer, 
Or it shall breed thy pain." 

The Fryer took Robin Hood on 's back again, 
And stept up to the knee, 
Till he came at the middle stream ; 
Neither good nor bad spake he. 

And coming to the middle stream, 
There he threw Robin in : 
"And chuse thee, chuse thee, fine fellow, 
"Whether thon wilt sink or swim ! " 

Robin Hood swam to a bush of Broom, 

The Fryer to a wicker wand. [texty misp . wiggcr- 

-Bold Robin Hood is gone to the shore, 

And [there] took his Bow in hand. 

One of his best Arrows under his Belt 
To the Fryer he let fly : 
The Curtle Fryer with his steel Buckler 
He put that arrow by. 

" Shoot on, shoot on, thou fine fellow, 
Shoot, as thou hast begun ; 
If thou shoot here a Summer's day 
Thy mark I will not shun." 

Robin Hood shot so ^passing well, 

Till all his arrows were gone; 

They took their Swords an' steel Bucklers, 

They fought with might and main. 

524 Battle between Robin Hood and the Curtal Friar. 

From ten o'th clock [they fought] that day, 
Till four i'th' afternoon ; 
Then Robin Hood came to [his] knees, 
Of [the] .Fryer to beg a boon : 

" A boon ! a boon ! thou Curtal Fryer, 
I beg it on ray knee : 

Give me leave to set my horn to my mouth, 
And to blow blasts three." 

" That will I do," said the Curtal Fryer, 
" Of thy blasts I have no doubt ; 
I hope thou '1 blow so passing well 
Till both thy eyes fall out." 

Rolin Hood set his horn to his mouth, 
He blew but blasts three; 
Half a hundred Yeomen with Bows bent 
Came ranging over the Lee. 

"Whose men are these," said the Fryer, 
" That come so hastily ? " 
" These men are mine ! " said Rolin Hood ; 
" Fryer, what is that to thee ? " 

" A boon ! a boon ! " said the Curtal Fryer, 
" The like I gave to thee : 
Give me leave to set my fist to my mouth, 
And to whute whutes three ! " 

" That will I do," said Robin Hood, 
Or else I were to blame ; 
Three whutes in a Fryer's fist 
Would make one glad and fain." 

The Fryer set his fist to his mouth, 
And whuted "vvhutes three ; 
Half a hundred good Ban-dogs 
Came running the Fryer unto. 

"Here is for every man a dog, 

And I myself for thee ! " 

" Nay, by my faith ! " quoth Robin Hood, 

" Fryer, that may not be." 

Two Dogs at once at Robin Hood did go, 
The one behind, the other before ; 
Robin Hood's mantle of Zi?icohi-green 
Off from his back they tore. 

And whether his men shot East or West, 
Or they shot North or South, 
The Curtle Dogs so taught they were, 
They caught the arrows in their mouth. 

\_a.l. raking. 

[ = whistle. 

[text, Bay-dogs. 

Battle between Robin Hood and the Curtal Friar. 525 

" Take up thy Dogs ! " said Little John ; 

" Fryer, at my bidding be ! " 

"Whose man art thou," said the Curtal Fryer, 

" Comes here to prate with me ? " 

"I am Little John, Robin Hood's man, 
Fryer, I will not lye ; 
If thou take not up thy Dogs soon, 
I 'le take up them and thee." 

Little John had a Bow in his hand, 
He shot with might and main ; 
Soon half a score of the Fryer's Dogs 
Lay dead upon the plain. 

" Hold thy hand, good fellow ! " said the Curtal Fryer, 
" Thy master and I will agree ; 
And we will have new orders taken 
"With all the hast[e] that may be." 

" If thou wilt forsake fair Fountain's Bale, 
And Fountain's Abb\_e~\y free, 
Every Sunday through the year, 
A Noble shall be thy fee. 

" And every Holy-day through the Year, 
Changed shall thy Garments be, 
If thou wilt go to fair Nottingham, 
And there remain with me." 

This Curtal Frier had kept Fountain's Bale 

Seven long years and more ; 

There was neither Knight, Lord, nor Earl 

Could make him yield before. [Jfrnia. 

London, Printed for F. Coles, T. Vere, and J. Wright. 

[Black-letter. Three woodcuts : 1st, a very early and stiff upright figure of 
a Bowman ; 2nd, small, a shaveling Friar (part of the picture in -vol. iv, 
p. 221, ' London's Drollery'); 3rd, equally diminutive figure of a Scotch- 
Highlander in a kilt. Pepys exemplar printed for //. Gossan, date 1606-41. 
The '.New .Northern Tune ' is given in W. C.'s Popular Music, p. 393.] 

Eo&in i£oot) anU jTriat Cucke, 

THE Percy Folio MS. preserves fragments, under this title, of 
the ballad known later as "The Curtail Friar," both names 
alluding to the shortened robe of the Franciscan. The manuscript 
version is evidently a garbled text, and begins abruptly. 

526 Robin Hood and Friar TucJie. 


Ut how many merry monthes be in the yeere ; | there are 13 in May ! 

The midsummer mooue[th] is the merryest of all, | next to the merry month 
of May. 

In May, when mayds heene fast weepand, | young men their hands done wringe ; 

[Half of p. 10 destroy td.\ 

"I Me . [ho]pe .... | over may nae man for villanie : 

I Me neuer eate nor drinke," Ro[but] Rood sa[idj, | " till I that cutted Fryar see." 

He builded his men in a brake of fearne, [ a litle from that Nun[n]ery ; 
Sayes, " If you heare my litle home blow, | then looke you come to me ! " 

"When Robin came to Fontaines abey, | whereas that Fryer lay, 

He was ware of the fryer where he stood, | and to him thus 'gan he say, 

(A payre of blacke breeches the yeoman had on, | his coppe all shone of Steele ; 
A fayre sword and a broad buckeler | beseemed him very weele :) [coppe = head. 

" I am a we[ll] weary man," said Robin Hood, | " good fellow, as thou may see ; 
Wilt beare [me] over this wilde water, | for sweete St. Charity?" 

The fryer bethought him : of a good deed | he had done none of long before ; 
He bent up Robin Hood on his backe, | and over he did him beare. 

But when he came over that wild water, | a longe sword there he drew ; 
" Beare me backe againe, bold outlawe, | or of this thou shalt have enou'." 

Then Robin Hood bent the fryar on his back, | and neither sayd good nor ill ; 
Till he came o're that wild water, | the yeoman he walked still. 

Then Robin Hood wett his fayre greene [h]ozen | a span aboue his knee, 
S[ayejs, " Beare me o're againe, thou cutted fryer, | [or evil will hap to thee."^ 

[Another half -page destroyed.'] 
good bowmen | came raking all on a rowe. 

" Ay beshrew thy head," said the cutted friar, | "thou thinkes I shall be shente ; 
1 thought thou had but a man or two, | and thou hast [aj whole Conuent. 

" I lett thee haue a blast on thy borne, | now giue me leaue to whistle another." 
" I coMd not bidd thee noe better play, | an' thou wert my owne borne brother." 

" Now fute on, fute on, thou cutted fryar, | I pray God thou neere be still ; 

It is not the futing in a fryar' s fist | that caa do me any ill." [ f. = whistling. 

The fryar sett his neave to his mouth, | a loud blast he did blow, 
Then halfe a hundred good ban-doggs | came raking all on a row. 

" Euery dogg to a man," said the cutted fryar, | " and I my selfe to Robin Hood ; 
Euery dogg unto a man, | and 1 my self to Robin Hood.'" 

" Euer God forbode," said RMn Hood, | "that euer that soe shold bee ; 

1 had rather be matched with three of the tikes, | ere I wold be matched on thee. 

" But stay thy tikes, thou fryar," he said, | " and freindshipp I Me haue wi' thee ; 
But stay thy tikes, thou fryar," he said, | " and saue good yeomanry." 

The fryar he sett his neave to his mouth, | a lowd blast he did blow ; 
The doggs they coucht dowue euery one, | they couched downe on a rowe. 

" What is thy will, thou yeoman? " he said, | " haue done and tell it me." 

" If that thou will goe to [the] Alerry Greenwood | [and there remain with me."] 

[The remainder lost; but it is evident that this earlier 
version must have been better than the common broadsides and late Garlands.] 


[Roxb. Coll., Ill, 22 ; Wood, 401, art. 17 ; Pepys, II, 107 ; Douce, III, 18 m.] 

JjStto ^tmcj; to tuttoe atoap coin SBtnter, 

IBcrtncm i?oi«w i/ooJ ant) tgc Jotnal Cuto. 

Ho iv Robin, by a wile, the Tinker he did cheat, 

But at the length, as you shall hear, the Tinker did him beat: 

Where by the same, thej did then [so] agree, 

And after liv'd in love and unity. 

The Tune is, In Summer Time. [See p. 486, and Note.'] 

IN Summer time, when leaves grow green, 
Down, a down, a down ; [Passim. 

And Birds singing on every Tree, hey doivn, doivn, a down; 
Robin Hood went to Nottingham, down a, down a, down, 

As fast as he could dree, [Dree = endure,- hasten. 

Hey down a, down a, doivn. 

And as he came to Nottingham, a Tinker he did meet; 
And seeing him a lusty Blade, he did him kindly greet. 

"Where dost thou live?" q[uoth] Robin Hood, "I pray thee now 

me tell ; 
Sad news I hear there is abroad, I fear all is not well." 

" What is that news?" the Tinker said, " tell me, without delay; 
I am a Tinker by my trade, and do live at Banburay." 

" As for the news," quoth Robin Hood, "it is but as I hear; 

Two Tinkers they were set i'th Stocks, for drinking Ale and Beer." 

" If that be all," the Tinker said, " as I may say to you, 
Your news it is not worth a f . . . , since that they all be true. 

"For drinking of good Ale and Beer, you will not lose your part." 
"No, by my faith!" quoth Robin Hood, "I love it with all my 

" What news abroad ? " quoth Robin Hood, " tell me what thou 

dost hear : 
Being thou goest from town to town, some news thou need not 


Note. — Rimbault, in 1847, asserted that this tune is the same as that of ' Robin 
Hood and the Curtal Friar,' pp. 521, 526, which he gave from a "beautiful old 
chant discovered on the fly-leaf of the Parthenia, an ancient musical work 
printed in 1611." ' The Noble Fisherman,' on p. 486, is to the same tune ; yet 
Kimbault adds later, "the Duwn a down after every line seems to be arbitrary, 
and was sung or not, at the pleasure of the singer. If used in the present 
instance [for 'Robin Rood and the Tinker'], it would require another tune." 


Rubin Hood and the Jovial Tinker. 

" All the news," the Tinker said, " I hear, it is for good; 
It is to seek a bold Out-law, which, they call Robin Hood. 

" I have a Warrant from the King, to take him where I can ; 
If you can tell me where he is, I will make you a Man. 

"The King would give an hundred pound, that he could but him see ; 
And if we can but now him get, it will serve you and me." 

" Let me see that Warrant," said Rob\_in~\ Hood, " I 'le see if it be 

And I will do the best I can for to take him this night." 

" That will I not," the Tinker said, "none with it I will trust ; 
And where he is, if you '1 not tell, take him by force I must." 

But Robin Hood perceiving well how then the game would go : 
"If you will go to Nottingham, we shall fiud him, I know." 

QEhc ScroiVt! Part. To ihe same Tune. 

The Tinker had a Crab-tree staff, down, a down, a down, 
Which was both good and strong, hey doivn, a down, a down ; 
Robin he had a good strong Blade, down, a down, a down: 
So they went both along ; hey down, a down, a down. 

And when they came to Nottingham, then they both took an Inn, 
And there they call'd for Ale aud Wine : to drink it was no sin. 

But Ale and Wine they drank so fast, that the Tinker he forgot 
What thing he was about to do, it fell so to his lot. 

Th[en] while the Tinker fell asleep, \_Robin~] made haste away, 
And left the Tinker in the lurch, for the great shot to pay. 

But when the Tinker wakened, and saw that \_Robin~\ was gone, 
He called then even for his Host, and thus he made his moan: 

"I had a Warrant from the King, which might have done me good, 
That is to seek a bold Out-law, some call him Robin Hood. 

" But now my Warrant and money is gone, nothing I have to pay; 
And he that proniis'd to be my friend, he is gone aud fled away." 

"That friend you tell on," said his Host, "they call him Robin 

Hood ; 
And when that first he met with you, he meant you little good." 

" Had I known [then] it had been he, when that I had him here, 
Th' one of us should have try'd our strength, which should have 
paid full dear. 

Robin Hood and the Jovial Tinker. 529 

" In the meantime I [must] away, no longer here I 'le hide ; 
But I will go and seek him out, whatever do betide. 

" But one thing I would gladly know, what here I have to pay ? " 
11 Ten shillings just," then said the Host. " I 'le pay without delay ; 

" Or else take here my working-bag, and my good hammer too ; 
And if I light but on that knave, I will then soon pay you." 

" The only way, then," said the Host, " and not to stand in fear, 
Is to seek him among the Parks, killing of the Kiug's Deer." 

The Tinker he then went with speed, and made then no delay, 
Till he had then found Robin Hood, that they might have a fray. 

At last he spy'd him in a Park, hunting then of the Deer : 
" What knave is that," quoth Robin Hood, " that doth come me so 
near? " 

" No knave, no knave ! " the Tinker said, " and that you soon shall 

know ; 
Whether of us hath done most wrong, my Crab-tree staff shall 


Then Robin drew his gallant Blade, made then of trusty steel ; 
But the Tinker he laid on so fast, that he made Robin reel. 

Then Robin's anger did arise, he fought full manfully, 
Until he had made the Tinker almost then lit to flye. 

"With that they had a bout again, they ply'd their weapons fast : 
The Tinker threshed his bones so sore, that he made him yield at last. 

" A boon ! a boon ! " Robin he cries, " if thou will grant it me." 
"Before I do it," the Tinker said, " I 'le hang thee on this Tree." 

But the Tinker looking him about, Robin his Horn did blow ; 
Then came unto him Little John, and Will Seadloch too. 

"What is the matter?" quoth Little John, "you sit in the High- 
way side ? " 
" Here is a Tinker that stands by, that hath paid well my hide." 

"That Tinker!" then said Little John, "fain that Blade I would 

see ; 
And I would try what I could do, if he '1 do as much for me." 

But Robin he then wisht them both they would the quarrel cease ; 
" That henceforth we may live as one, and ever live in peace. 

"And for the jovial Tinker's part, a hundred pound I 'le give 
In th' Year, to maintain him on, as long as he doth live. 


530 Robin TTood and the Jovial Tinker. 

" In Man-hood he is a mettle-man, and a mettle-man by Trade ; 
I never thought that any man should have made me so afraid. 

"And if he will be one with us, we will take all one fare ; 
And whatsoever we do get, he shall have his full share." 

So the Tinker was content, dozen a down, a down, 
"With them to go along : hey down a down, a down, a down ; 
And with them a part to take, down a down, a down : 
And so I end my song : hey down a down, a down. 

Printed for F. Coles, T. Fere, J. Wright, J. Clarke, W. Thackeray, 

and T. Passinyer. 

[Black-letter. Woodcut of a stag-hunt, used also for ' Robin Hood's Chase,' 
p. 514. "Wood's exemplar has ' London, Printed for F. Grove, dwelling on 
Snow-hill '; Pepysian is later, ' for J. Clarke, W. Thackeray , and T. 'Passenger '; 
Douce, ' Printed for J. Hodges, at the Looking -Glass on London- Bridge.'] 

iRobrn IJ)ooD anD tfje Pinner of ©aakcficlti, 

" At Michaelmas cometh my covenant out, 
My Master gives me my fee ; 
Then, Robin, I '11 wear thy Kendall green, 
And wend to the Greenwood with thee." 

Downfall of Mob t. Earle of Huntingdon, 1601. 

George A Green, the Pindar of Wakefield, ' a pleasant conceited 
Comedy,' so-named, was acted in London, December, 1593, and 
printed in 4to., 1599. The Pinder or ' Poinder ' was the officer 
who took charge of the pen-fold, wherein stray cattle had been 
shut, until fines were paid for their recovery. Earlier than the 
plays of the 'Downfall' or ' (reorge a Green,' the ballad was sung 
to its own special tune, known, from its first burden, as Wakefield 
on a Green ; but sometimes to the tune of the Bailiff's Daughter of 
Islington. (See vol. vi, p. 243, and Popular Music, p. 304.) 

# * # The first issue of this ballad is entered to Mr. John Wallye and Mistress 
Toye, during the year from the 19th July 1557, to 9th July 1558, Stat. Registers. 

The avowal of the Finder to take service with Robin whenever he shall have 
fulfilled his contract with his present employer at Michaelmas, but not until then, 
is strikingly anticipative of Sir Walter Scott's Major Dugald Dalgetty (in 
' The Legend of 3£ontrose,' 1 1819), who endangers his life by refusing to change 
sides before his term of engagement is ended. Dalgetty is uublushingly a 
'mercenary,' but conscientious according to his lights, being also M.A. of the 
Marischal- College of Aberdeen, and heretofore a soldado under " Gustavus 
Adolphus, the Lion of the .North and Bulwark of the Protestant Faith! " 

This ballad in the Percy Folio MS. is mutilated, the beginning lost, to the 
middle of our seventh stanza, where Robin bids him hold his hand. Unfortunately 
it lacks other portions, imperfect in our tenth stanza; but it gives us the two 
final lines, a repeat, " I 'le take my beu'bowe in my hande, and come into the 
Greemvoode to thee." 


[Roxbnrghe Collection, III, 24 ; Wood, 402, f. 43 ; 401, f. 61 verso ; Lind., 693 
Bagf'ord, II, 20, 21; Pepys, II, 100 ; Douce; Garlands of 1663, 1670.] 

%\)t 3J0lIg f&tirtW Of Wakefield, 

tnttl) Robin Hood, Scarlet, ant) John. 

[To its own Tune : see p. 530, and Popular Music, p. 394.] 

IN Wakefield there lives a jolly Pinder, 
In Wakefield all on a green : [Repeat, passim. 

[In Wakefield there lives a jolly Pinder, a better one never was seen.] 

" There is neither Knight, nor Squire," said the Pinder, 
" Nor Baron that is so bold, nor Baron that is so bold, 
Dare make a trespass to the town of Wakefield, 
But his pledge goes to the Pinfold." [Repeat. 

All this beheard three witty young men, !>•'• wi & ht yeomen. 
'Twas Robin Hood, Scarlet, and John, etc.; [{S^Fi? *' 3 
With that they espyed the jolly Pinder, 
As he sat under a thorn, etc. 

"Now turn again, turn again ! " said the Pinder, 
" For a wrong way you have gone; 
For you have forsaken the King's high-way, 
And made a path over the Corn," etc. 

532 Robin Hood and the Pinder of Wakefield. 

"0, that were great shame," said jolly Robin, 
" "We being three, and thou but one," etc. 
The Pinder leapt back then thirty good foot, 
'Twas thirty good foot and one, etc. 

He leaned his back fast unto a thorn, 
And [set] his foot unto a stone, etc. ; 
And there he fought a long Summer's day, 
A Summer's day so long, etc., 

Till that their Swords on their broad Bucklers 
Were broke fast unto their hands, etc. 
" Hold thy hand ! hold thy hand ! " said Robin Hood, 
"And my merry men every one, etc.; 

"For this is one of the best Pinders 

That ever I try'd with Sword, etc. 

And wilt thou forsake thy Pinder's craft, 

And live with me in [the] Green Wood ? " etc. [transposed. 

" At Michaelmas next my cov'nant comes out, 
When every man gathers his fee : 
1 'le take my blew blade all in my hand, 
And plod to the Green-wood with thee." 

[" This is one of the best Pinders [Restored from Percy Folio MS. 

That ever I did see ! 
" Hast thou either meat or drink," said Robin Hood, 
" For my merry men and me ? " etc. 

" I have both Bread and Beef," said the Pinder, 
" And good Ale of the best ; " 

"And that is meat good enough," said Robin Hood, 
" For such unbidden Guest. 

" 0, wilt thou forsake the Pinder his craft, 
And go to the Green Wood with me ? 
Thou shalt have a livery twice in the year, 
The one green, the other brown," etc. 

" If Michaelmas day was come and gone, 

And my Master had paid me my fee, [Repeat. 

Then would I set as little by him 

As my Master doth set by me. [Repeat. 

[" I 'le take my ben'bowe in my hande, 

And come into the Greenwoode to thee."] [Percy Folio MS. 

[No colophon in Roxb., but Wood 401 has, ' Printed for F. Coles, T. Vere, and 
W. Gilbertson' '; Pepys, 'ior Alex. Mtluoume.' b. l.] 


iRotim ©oon anti ttc T5utcbcr. 

THE broadsides had been abbreviated from the original text, 
by Thomas Robins, whose initials are appended here to 
' Robin Hood's Chase,' as also to ' Robin Hood and the Beggar ' : all 
three to the Tanner tune. An early version is in the Percy Folio 
MS., but it is sorely mutilated. It begins abruptly, as though 
in continuation of another ballad, one that had told of the 
Nottingham Sheriff setting a price on the head of Robin Hood 
for some recent offence, such as his slaying of the Fifteen Rangers 
in the ' Progress to Nottingham ' (see p. 500). 

Ut Robin he walkes in the g[reene] Forrest, as merry as bird on b[o]nghe, 


But he that feitches good Robin's head, he '11 find him game enoughe. 

But Robin he walkes in the greene Forrest, vnder his trusty tree, [ =trysting ? 
Sayes, ' Hearken, hearken, my merrymen all ! what tydings is come to me : 

' The Sheriffe he hath made a cry, hee 'le haue my head I-wis ; 

But ere a tweluemonth come to an end, I may chance to light on his;' 

Robin he marcht in the greene Forrest, vnder the greenwood scray, [ =epray ? 
And there he was ware of a proud bucher, came driuing Flesh by the way. 

The Bucher he had a cut-tail'd dogg, and at Robin's face he flew ; 

But Robin he war[e] a good sword, the bucher' s dogg he slew. [t. war. 

' "Why slayes' thou my dogg ? ' sayes the bucher, ' for he did none ill to thee ; 
By all the s[ain]ts that are in heaven, thou shalt haue buffets three.' 

He tooke his staffe then in his hand, and he tnrn'd him round about : 

' Thou hast a litle wild blood in thy head, good fellow, thou 'st haue it letten out.' 

' He that does that deed,' sayes Robin, ' I 'le count him for a man ; 

But that while will I draw my sword, and fend it if I can.' [=till then. 

But Robin he stroke att the bloudy Bucher, in place w[b]ere he did stand, .... 

Here the manuscript is mutilated, half a page lost ; and we know 
not how long the fight lasts, or how it ends — whether the butcher 
is slain outright, or yields after a good basting. Not improbably 
it follows the usual course — that Robin gets badly mauled, and then 
admires the victor, making a league with him, a new stalwart man, 
buying from him his cattle and mare. Thus he is found to do in 
the broadside version, which omits the quarrel and the butcher's 
dog. Where the manuscript is again legible it gives three stanzas 
on the Sheriff's wife, which are absent from the broadside : — 

' I, a younge bucher,' sayes Robin, 'you fine dames am I come amonge ; 

But euer I beseech you, good Mrs. Sheriffe, you must see me take noe wrong.' 

'Thou art verry welcome,' said Mr. Sheriffe's wiffe; 'thy inne heere up take ; 
If any good Fellow come in thy companie, hee 's t' be welcome for thy sake.' 

Robin called for ale, soe did he for wine, and for it he did pay : 

' I must to my markett goe,' says Robin, ' for I hold it time of the day.' 

But Robin is to the markett gone, soe quickly and beliue, 

He sold more flesh for one peny then othe' buchers did for flue. [Cf. p. 536. 

534 Robin Hood and the Butcher {Percy Fol. MS. version). 

The mutilated manuscript tells of seven butchers guarding 
Robin until he promises to meet them : "Att four of the clocke in 
the afteruoone, at the Sheriff's hall I wilbe." We give the passage : 

The[n] drew about [him] the younge butcher[s], like sheepe into a fold ; 
Yea, neuer a bucher had sold a bitt till Robin he had all suld. 

"When Robin Hood had his markett made, his flesche was sold and gone ; 
Yea, he had receiued but a litle Mony, but thirty pence and one. 

Seaven buchers the[y] garded Robin Hood, full many time and oft ; 

Sayes, 'AVe must drinke with you, brother bueher, it 's custome of our crafte.' 

' If that be the custome of your crafte, as heere you tell to me, 

Att four of the clocke in the afiernoone, at the Sheriff's hall I wilbe.' 

[Half a page lost.) 

The covetous Sheriff is allured to make a hid for the unseen cattle : 

[Hiatus valde dejlendiis~\ ' if thou doe like it well ; 

Yea, heere is more by three hundred pound than thou hast beasts to sell.' 

Robin sayd naught, the more he thought : ' Money neere comes out of time ; 
If once I catch thee in the greene Forrest, that money it shall be mine.' 

But on the next day seuen butchers came to guard the Sheriffe that day ; 

But Robyn he was the whightest man, he led them all the way. [= briskest. 

He led them into the greene Forrest, vnder the tr[ysted] tree, etc. [Cf. p. .533. 
Yea, there were harts, and ther were hynds, and staggs with heads full high. 

Yea, there were harts, and there were hynds, and many a goodly fawne: 
' Now praised be God ! ' says bold Robin, ' all these they be my owne. 

' But euer alacke, now,' said the Sheriffe, 'that tydings comes too late.' 
' These are my horned beasts,' says Robin, ' Mr. Sherriffe, which must make 
the stake.' 

Robin sett a shrill home to bis mouth, and a loud blast he did blow, 
And then halfe a hundred bold archers came rakeing on a row. 

But when they came befor bold Robin, euen there they stood all bare : 

1 You are welcome, Master, from Nottingham : how haue you sold your ware ? ' 

The Percy Folio MS. is here a third time defective, where the hundred bold 
archers answer the bugle horn. But the MS. gives the original conclusion, viz. 
the Sheriff's return home to his wife, and part of his talk with her : — 

' It proues bold Rubin Hood.'' 

' Yea, he hath robbed me of all my gold, and siluer that euer I had ; 
But that I had a verry good Wife at home, I shold haue lost my head. 

' But I had a verry good Wife at home, which [had] made him gentle cheere, 
And therfor, p[ro] my Wife's sake, I shold haue better favor heere. 

' But such favor as he shewed me, I might haue of the deuill's dam ; 
That will rob a man of all that he hath, and send him naked home.' 

' That is very well done ! " then says his Wiffe ; ' itt is well done, I say ; 
You might haue tarryed at Nottingham, soe fayre as I did you pray.' 

' I haue learned wisdome,' says the Sheriffe, ' and, wiffe, I haue learned of thee ; 
But if Robin walke easte, or he walke west, he shall neuer be sought for me.' 



[Roxburgbe Collection, III, 259; Wood, 401, 19; Pepys, II, 102; Douce 
III, 114; Garlands of 1663, 1670.] 

i&obm ^006 antr tl)e Butcher. 

To the Tune of, Robin Hood and the Begger [=B.H and the Tanner, p. 503]. 

COme, all ye brave Gallants, and listen a while, 
With hey down, down, an a down, [Repetition, passim. 

That are in the bowers within ; 
For of Robin Hood, that Archer good, a song I intend for to sing. 

Upon a time it chanced so, Bold Robin in Forrest did spy 
A jolly Butcher, with a bonny fine Mare, with his flesh to the 
Market did bye. 

" Good morrow, good fellow ! " said jolly Robin: "what food hast? 
— tell unto me ; 
And thy trade to me tell, and where thou dost dwell ; for I like 
well thy company." 

The Butcher he answered jolly Robin : " Is T o matter where I dwell ; 
For a Butcher I am, and to Nottingham I am going my Flesh to 

" What is price of thy Flesh?" said jolly Robin, "come tell it 
soon unto me ; 
And the price of thy Mare, be she neuer so dear? for a Butcher 
fain would I be." 

" The price of my Flesh," the Butcher replied, " I soon will tell 
unto thee, 
With my bonny Mare ; and they are not dear : four mark thou 
must give unto me." 

" Four mark I will give thee," saith jolly Robin; "four mark it 
shall be thy fee ; 
Thy mon[eJy come count, and let me mount, for a Butcher I fain 

Would be." [See Introductory Note, p. 533. 

Now Robin he is to Nottingham gone, his butcher's trade for to 

begin ; 
With good intent, to the Sheriff he went, and there he took up 

his Inne. 

When other butchers they opened their meat, Bold Robin he 

then begun ; 
But how for to sell he knew not well, for a Butcher he was but 


536 Robin Hood and the Butcher, (t. r.'s version.) 

"When other butchers no meat could sell, Robin got both gold 

and fee ; 
For he sold more meat for one peny than others could do for 


But when he sold his meat so fast, no butcher by him could thrive ; 
For he sold more meat for one peny than others could do for five. 

Which made the butchers of Nottingham to study as they did 

Saying, " Surely he was some Prodigal, that had sold his father's 


The Butchers they stepped to jolly Robin, acquainted with him 
for to be : 
" Come, Brother," one said, " we be all of one trade ; come, will 
you go dine with me ? " 

" Accurst of his heart," said jolly Robin, "that a Butcher doth 
deny ; 
I will go with you, my Brethren true, and as fast as I can hie." 

But when to the Sheriff's house they came, to Dinner they hied 

And Robin he the man must be before them all to say grace. 

" Pray God bless us all ! " said jolly Robin, " and our meat, within 
this place ; 
A cup of Sack so good will nourish our blood, and so I do end 
my grace. 

" Come, fill us more wine! " said jolly Robin; "let us merry be 
while we do stay ; 
For wine and good cheer, be it neuer so dear, I vow I the 
reck'niug will pay. 

" Come, Brother[s], be merry," said jolly Robin ; " let us drink 
and neuer give o're ; 
For the shot I will pay, ere I go my way, if it cost me fiue 
pounds and more." 

" This is a mad blade," the butchers then said ; saies the Sheriff: 
"He is some prodigall, 
That some land has sold for siluer and gold; and now he doth 
mean to spend all. 

" Hast thou any Horn-beasts?" the Sheriff reply'd, "good fellow, 

to sell unto me." 
" Yes, that I haue, good Master Sheriff, I haue hundreds two or 

three ; 

Robin Hood and the Batcher, (t. r.'s version.) 537 

" And a hundred aker of good free land, if you please it to see ; 
And I 'le make you as good assurance of it, as euer my Father 
made me." 

The Sheriff he saddled a good Palfrey, with three hundred pound 

in gold, 
And away he went with bold Rohin Hood, his horned beasts to 


Away then the Sheriff and Rohin did ride, to the Forrest of 

merry Sherivood ; 
Then the Sheriff did say, " God bless us this day from a man 

they call Rohin Ilood ! " 

But when that a little further they came, bold Rohin he chanced 

to spy 
A hundred head of good red Deer come tripping the Sheriff 

full nigh. 

" How like you my horned beasts, good Master Sheriff? they be 

fat and fair for to see." 
" I tell thee, good fellow, I would I were gone, for I like not thy 


Then Rohin he set his horn to his mouth, and blew but blasts 

three ; 
Then quickly anon there came Little John, and all his company. 

" What is your will ? " then said Little John; " good Master, come 

tell it to me." 
" I have brought hither the Sheriff of Nottingham, this day to dine 

with thee." 

" He is welcome to me," then said Little John; "I hope he will 
honestly pay : 
I know he has gold, if it be but well told, will serue us to drink 
a whole day." 

Then Rohin took his mantle from his back, and laid it upon the 

And out of the Sheriffe's portmantle he told three hundred pound. 

Then Rohin he brought him thorow the wood, and set him on his 
dapple gray : 
" haue me commended to your wife at home ! " so Rohin went 
laughing away. [See pp. 533, 534. 

JFl'nfg!. T. R. [probably Thomas Robins]. 

[No colophon in Roxb. "Wood's has ' London ; printed for F. Grove on Snoio- 
Sill,' before 1656; Pepys exemplar for Clarke, Thackeray, and Passenger: 
both in Black-letter. The woodcut, on p. 509, of the Bishop bound to a tree.] 


jFragmcntarp MS. of Ro&in ©oau ann t&e a^onfe. 

IT is preserved among the scraps at beginning of Vol. I of John 
Bagford's Collection of Ballads, British Museum, Case 39, K. 

[A larger MS., of date circa 1450, is in Cambridge Univ. Lib., Ff. 5, 48, fol. 128 
verso. It is printed in Robert Jamieson's Popular Ballads, ii, 54, 1806, ninety 
stanzas of four lines. The single leaf in Bagford Coll., I, art. 6, holds only the 
unbracketed parts of stanzas 69 to 72 and 77 to 80, here following. We give the 
opening stanza, additionally, from the Camb. Uuiv. MS.] 

IN Somer, when the shawes be sheyne and leves be large and long, 
Hit is full mery in feyre foreste to here the foulys song ; 
To se the dere draw to the dale, and leve the hilles hee, 
And shadow them in the leues grene, vnder the grene-wode tre. 8 

[Litul John callid vp the jayler, and bade hym rise anon ;] 

He seyd Robyn Mode had brokyn piison, and out of it was gon. [Bagford. 

" Now wil I be porter," seid Litul John, "and take the keyes in honde" : 
He toke the way to Robyn Hode, and sone he hym vnboude. 

Then bespake gode Litull John, to Robyn Rode gan he say : 
" 1 haue done ye a gode turne for an euyll, quyte ye whan you may. 

" I haue done ye a gode turne," seid Litull John, " for sotlie as I you say ; 
I haue brougt ye vnder grene-wode lyne : fare wel, and haue gode day ! " 

" Nay, be my trouth," seid Robyn Hode, "so shall hit neuer be ; 
I make ye maister," seid Robyn Hode, " of alle my men and me." 

" Nay, be my trouth," seid Litull John, " so shalle hit neuer be ; 
But lat me be a felow," seid Litull John, " no noder kepe 1 be." 

[Thus John gate Robyn Hode out of prison, sertan withoutyn payn : 
When his men saw hym hoi and sounde, for sothe they were full fayne.] 
{Nine more stanzas. Unfortunately even the Cambridge MS. is defective.) 

(Btfjtt Ballad on IRoum ^oot>, 

ALTHOUGH the Boxburghe Collection is rich in Bobin Hood lore, 
it does not contain ' The Lyttel Geste ' (see pp. 483, 540), or 
the following ballads (of which we have reprinted No. 3 on p. 503) : — 

1. — Bobin Hood and Guy of Gisborne = " When shawes bene sheene," 
etc. {Percy Folio MS.). 

WHen shawes beene sheene, and shrads full fayre, 
And leeues both large and longe, 
Itt is merry, walking in the fayre Forrest, 
To heare the small birds' songe. 

The woodweele sang, and wold not cease, [ = The Golden Ouzle. 

Amongst the leaues a lyne ; 
And it is by two wight Yeomen, 

By deare God, that I meane. (Etc. Fifty-eight stanzas in all.) 

Other Ballads on Robin Hood. 539 

2. — Robin Hood and the Potter=" In Schomer, when," etc. (Camb. 
Univ. MS., E. e. 4. 35, fol. 14 vo. Supposed date, 1500). 

In Schomer, when the leves spryng, ] the bloschoms on euery bowe, 

So merey doyt the berdys syng, | yn wodys mery now. 

Herkens, god yemen, comley, corteys, and gode, 

On of the best that yeuer bare bowe, hes name was Rolen Hode. 

(Forty- eight stanzas, Jive of them defective.) 

3. — Robin Hood and the Tanner, Arthur a Bland = " In Nottingham 
there lives a jolly Tanner." (See p. 503, where it is given.) 

4. — Robin Hood and the Monck = "In Somer, when the shawes be 
sheyne." (A fragmentary MS. : see previous p. 538.) 

5. — Robin Hood's Delight = " There is some will talk of lords and 
knights." 24 stanzas. (Wood's Coll., 401, 41 verso.) 

6. — Robin Hood and the Ranger = " When Phoebus had melted the 
sickles of ice." Tune, Arthur a Bland. (Douce Coll., Ill, 124.) 

7. — R. H. Rescuing Three Squires (a Widow's three sons) = " There 
are twelve months," etc. Imperfect in Percy Folio MS.; 
later version in R. H. Garlands. (Compare p. 516.) 

8.— R. H. Rescuing Will Stukely from the Sheriff =" When Robin 
Hood in the greenwood lived." (Wood and Pepys Colls. ; 
Lindes., 1319; Roberts's Old Ballads, i, 90, 1723.) 

9. — R. H. and the Bishop of Hereford = " Some they will talk of 
bold Robin Hood." Given complete in Mr. Wm. Chappell's 
Popular Music (the nnmutilated and only representative 
edition authorized by him, circa 1855), p. 395, with tune. 

10. — A Famous Battle between R. H. and Maid Marian = " A bonny 
fine Maid of a noble degree." (Wood's Coll., 401, 21 verso, 
and Ritson's R. H, ii, 15.) Tune, Robin Hood Revived. 

11. — A True Tale of R. H. (by Martin Parker, the poorest catch- 
penny assigned to him : 29 Feb. 1632 ; 120 four-line stanzas). 

Begins, " Both gentlemen or yeomen bould." It scarcely can be considered 
a ballad. It mentions his going into a nunnery, with intent to be bled : 

" A faithlesse Fryer did pretend in love to let him blood ; 
But he by falshood wrought the end of famous Robin Hood. 

" The Fryer, as some say, did this to vindicate the wrong 
Which to the clergie he and his had done by power strong." 

12. — Robin Hood's Death and Burial = "When Robin Hood and 
Little John.'''' Tune, Robin Hood's Last Farewell. (See p. 540.) 

13, 14, and 15. — Garland copies of ' The King's Disguise ' ; ' R. H. 
and the Golden Arrow ' ; R. H. and the Valiant Knight.' 

There are also fraudulent ballads, such as ' The Courtship of Jack Cade's 
Daughter '=" Brome, brome on hill." It was written by James Maidinent 
(see p. 179) to impose on John Matthew Gutch, F.S.A., 1847, a man easily 
deluded. Professor Hales, also duped, in 1867, accepted it as genuine. See 
Percy Folio MS. i, 8. The omission of these inferior works is great gain. 


ftoiritt ^ooti'g SDcatD anti Burial. 

In Roxb. Coll. is no exemplar of the ballad entitled ' Robin Hood's 
Death and Burial ' ; beginning, " When Robin Hood and Little John 
went o'er yon bank of broom." It is in ' Bob in Hood's Garland,' 
and is a modernization of older materials. Ritson reprinted it ; so 
did J. M. Gutch. An earlier but mutilated version is in the Percy 
Folio MS., p. 21, beginning thus in the 5th stanza : — 

" I will neuer eate nor drinke," Robin Hood said, "nor meate will doe me noe good, 
Till I haue beene att merry Ghurchlees\_ = Kirklees], my vaines for to let blood." 

" That I reade not," said Will Scarlett, "Master, by the assente of me, 
Without halfe a hundred of your best bowmen you take to goe with yee." 

But Robin refuses to take any companion except Little John. 
Warnings beset him on the road — first from an old woman who 
bans him, for some cause unknown (a gap occurring here in the 
MS.) ; and later from friends, who weep for his present sickness 
and foresee danger. He asks for leechcraft from the Prioress of 
Kirklees, who is daughter of his own aunt and skilful to let 
blood. He gives her twenty pounds to spend, with promise of more 
to follow ; but she betrays him to his death, at the instigation 
of his enemy, a priest, Red Roger of Doncaster. She bleeds Robin 
to excess without stanching the blood, and poisons the wound. 

And first it bled tbe thicke, thicke blude, and afterwards the thinne; 

And well then wist good Robin Hoode, treason there was within. 

"What cheere, my Master ? " said Little John. "In faith, John, litle goode." 

Another gap occurs in the MS. His enemy is near, and when 
Robin escapes from the shot-window Red Roger stabs him, and 
is himself slain by the dying man. He demands his ' houzle,' 
howsoever it is got, and Little John bears him on his back. The 
end is lost from the Percy Polio MS , telling of Robin drawing 
his bow for the last time; the Douce Garland version reads thus : — 

" But give me my bent bow in my hand, and a broad arrow I '11 let flee, 
And, where this arrow is taken up, there shall my grave digged be." 

The ' Geste of Robyn Hode ' summarizes the death briefly in the 
final stanzas, lines 454-456 : — 

Than bespake good Robi/n, in place whereas he stode : 

" To-morrow I rnuste to Kirke[s]ly, craftely to be letten blode." 

Syr Roger of Donkestere, by the Pryoresse he lay, 

And there they betrayed good Robyn Hode, thorough theyr false playe. 

Cryst haue mercy on his soule, that dyed on the ro[o]de ! [=Holy Cross. 
For he was a good outlawe, and dyd pore men much go[o]d. 

pjctc ottos the ♦ jFtnal ffitoup of ffiobfn Pjooo Ballota.' 


Ctoci strings to a TBoto: 

Che ©uniting Archer. 

" I look'd and saw a merry company 

Down the green avenue with laugh and song, 
And little joyful noises, come along ; 

Then died the tyranny 
Of this grey world in me, with hoary wrong. 

" Then saw I Robin, with his fearless brow 
And eye of frolic love ; Maid Marian ; 
The moon- faced Tuck ; and, sporting 'neath a bough, 
John, Eobiti's master-man, 
Scarlet, and Much, and all the outlaw clan, 
With polish'd horn and bow, in Lincoln green, 
Moved ceaselessly between the leafy screen : 

A natural freedom ran 
Through every spirit on that sylvan scene." 

J. D. Hosken's Verses by the Waij. (Cf. pp. 499, 508.) 

WE quit the completed ' Group op Robin Hood Ballads,' with 
their woodland glades that were always leafy, twinkling in 
the sunshine, and traversed by light-footed deer ; a haunted fairy- 
land of perpetual summer-time, unscathed by " winter and rough 
weather," such as dared to intrude within the Forest of Arden : 

" Under the greenwood-tree, who loves to lie with me, 
And turn his merry note unto the sweet bird's throat ? 
Come hither, come hither, come hither ! 

Here shall he see no enemy 
But winter and rough weather." 

It really matters not one iota what had been the original name, 
rank, date, and locality of the apocryphal Robin Hood. Some of 
his attributes may be identified as belonging to Fulk Fitz-Warine, 
others to Hereward the Wake ; and it is not improbable that the 
prototype stood forward as a patriotic Saxon in resistance to the 
invading Normans. Every attempt to crystallize the legends has 
been hitherto a disastrous failure : critics " murder, to dissect." 

Whatever may be the merits of some individual ballads, with 
their wearisome iteration of cudgellings and defeats of the too 
compliant Robin, we should remember that these are, for the most 
part, vulgar modernizations of an earlier cycle, wherein the 
heroic leader bore his dignity undebased by corrupt additions to 
the fable. We must think of him as of Charles Martel, when 
first made famous by the minstrels, before their chronicles were 
perverted into laudations of Charlemagne and his courtiers ; soon 
to be desecrated by each re-embodiment to suit the market. 
Popularity thus turned Robin Hood into a mountebank jest. 

A different sort of 'Cunning Archer' appears in the Parliamentary 
soldier of the next ballad, who is the ruin of maiden honour, with 
" two strings to a bow." 


[Roxburghe Collection, III, 262. Apparently unique.] 

Ctoo ^ttmgs to a T5oto ; ©r, Cfre cunning atcftet : 

Being a pleasant nefo tofttg of a SoulDtcr, tljat Ijati ttoo Easses at 
one time, tljat tiearlrj lobcb fjt'm ; nno I)oh) Ijc rcqm'ttti tijefr Kindness. 

This lusty Souldier having been | ten years in Scotland, and ne'er seen 
A London Lass, resolv'd to try | how much they priz'd virginity. 

He laies close siege to two, and stormes | 

Their Forts, but yet to marry scorns. 

To an excellent Scotish Tune, call'd Gilderoij. [See Bagford Ballads, p. 103.] 

Give ear, you lads and lasses all, to what I shall report, 
Of maidens twain that loved dear a Souldier, their consort ; 
A bonny Lad and blith was he, and seem'd to love them both, 
But when they urg'd to tie the knot, to marry be was loth. 

Full many years this Souldier brave in Scotland bore his arms, 
Under [Monk], our noble General, still free from Cupid' 's charms ; 
But Loudon Lasses thought to win, and tempt him with their smiles, 
Which subt'ly he a while receives, at last them both beguiles. 

The first was Mai : a bouncing Lass, to whom he courteous was, 
And lovingly did kiss and court : but mark what came to pass ! 
"When he hud gain'd her tender heart, and Cupid had her shot, 
He scornfully disdains her thoughts, and swears he loves her not. 

Then she her service leaves inbast[e], a private life to lead, 
Because that to her Master she was loth offence to give ; 
And that he might with freedome come to visit this his dear, 
On whom she spent her money free, in ale and in good cheer. 

Two Strings to a Bow : The Cunning Archer. 543 

Thus she continued a while, and he came oft unto her, 

Whose sight did please her wondrous well ; the Souldier sure did love her. 

But when her stock grew low and poor, his love it waxed cold ; 

There was no chain could hold him fast, but onely that of Gold. 

When thus she saw she slighted was, and could not catch the game, 
With heavy moan she did repine, and her hard fortune blame ; 
Whilst he with joviallists did siug, and did contrive it so 
That he had got another Lass, and two strings to his Bow. 

2Tf)C ScCflntj Part. To the same Tune. 

HAving thus put his first lasse off, the second comes in play, 
The which was pretty Dorothy, who was both fine and gay ; 
To whom he doth express his love, with amorous glances many, 
And swears that she shall be his wife, if ever he have any. 

This did so pierce her tender heart, with joy and great delight, 
That she her service proffer'd him, by day and eke by night; 
Which he most kindly doth accept ; and, void of dread or fear, 
He gets her in his [Spider's-web, ensnared], as you shall hear. 

In sober guise the Souldier goes one night to [her master's house], 
Where she must come in all the haste, to [meet her unwedded spouse] ; 
The people being all at rest, and every one asleep, 
The Lasse goes to his chamber straight, [where he may softly] creep. 

He that in bloody Battels fought, and lay in frost and cold, 
Enduring hardships plentifull, against his foes so bold, 
Can now [that guarded fort] surprize, which no man e'er did enter : 
The Lady and the Owner [knowing not of] his adventure. 

Her master and her mistress both, about the break of day, 
Awaking, called for their Maid, but she no word did say ; 
She was [enwrapt] with her delight, and sporting with her dear, 
Not thinking that her master call'd. : Love would not let her hear. 


Then up her master gets in haste, to find the poor lost sheep, 

And folded in the Souldier's arms he finds his maid, asleep ; 

Then with one blow upon her cheek he wakes her from her dear, 

And kicks the Lassie out of doors : " No [sluts] " (quoth he) " live here ! " 

When this black chance was once found out. the lasse she fain would marry ; 
The Souldier he refuses quite, tells her he must be wary : 
But she, perplext, doth urge him still, and begs the same with tears ; 
Quoth he, "I am not in your debt ; I paid you your arrears ! " 

" Take heed, you loving Lasses [all], be warn'd by my report! 

Trust not a lusty Souldier['s call], for he '11 soon take your foi't, 

And then you must turn chamber-maids ; alas ! my chance is so : 

The Souldier he will shoot no more : he has broke tivo strings to his Bow ! " 

jFintS. London : Frinted for Charles Tyus, on London-bridge. 

[Black-letter. Four woodcuts : 1st. man, p. 542 ; 2nd, woman, ditto; 3rd, man, 
vol. vii, 279; 4th, Q. Anne of Denmark, vi, 66. Date, 1659-64.] 

Note. — Charles Tyus had The Three Bibles on London-Bridge, from 1659 to 
1664, probably until September, 1666, when the Great Fire destroyed his shop. 
The sign, but not Tyus, re-appeared on the Bridge in 1668. A cancelled word of 
political import, here restored to the text, is the name of "our noble General," 
Geokge Monk. 


p-cajum&K-) f7£2=& 

*=^^^ W%ii&MJ**!i ' 


(From Miss J. H. L. De Vaynes'S ' Kentish Garland,' Vol. I.) 

(The only work that gathers and reprints nearly all the Songs and Ballads of Kent.) 
Printed by Stephen Austin & Sons, Hertford, 1881-82. 


$n tl)t i^op^dBarlrens of 3&tnt. 

" In Kent, so famed of old, close by the famous Knoll, [—Enowle Park. 
A swain to a goddess told an amorous story ; 
Cry'd he : ' These jarring days, when kings contend for bays, 
Your love my soul doth raise, beyond their glory. 

' My Life, my lovely Dear ! whilst you are smiling here, 
The plants and flowers appear more sweetly charming ; 
The Sun may cease to shine, and may his power resign, 
Your eyes give rays divine, all Nature warming.' 

She made a kind return, that nothing had of scorn ; 
' This Youth ' (thought I), ' doth burn to bring her under.' 
But as they homeward mov'd, and walk'd, and talk'd, and lov'd, 
I found his Spouse she proved : that teas the wonder ! " 

D'Urfey's Conjugal Love; To an Air in Pyrrhus. 

§£| 'TJREEY sang in praise of wedded lovers, who 
continued their affection for each other long 
after the honeymoon had passed its calendar 
climax. Decorously he here celebrates his 
favourite county, the over-rated 'Invieta* — 
" unconquered and unconquerable" (so say 
its friends) ; because it is " unworthy of being 
conquered," say its enemies. Less discreetly 
D'Urfey sang the adventures of a 'Yeoman 
of Kent,' three miles from Gravesend. It 
begins, "In Kent, I hear, there lately did 
dwell Long George, a yeoman by trade." This Long George is 
detected, after having come uninvited to Swanscomb vicarage, 
paying court to the Parson's compliant maid, Mary. He is routed 
by the said Parson's own wife. It is bewildering to learn that 

' ' The Parson cryes : ' You wicked young dog ! 
How durst you do such a folly ? 
For tho', to save strife, I may preach with my wife, 
I sometimes sing anthems with Molly.'' " 

Kent is presented unfavourably in the R,oxburghe Collection, 
although it includes both ' The Kentish Miracle ' 
and 'Kentish Wonder' (see pp. 33, 39). An 
allusion was made (in vol. vi, p. 255) to 'Kentish 
Dick; or, The Lusty Coachman of Westminster : 
but neither he nor the ' Excise-man of llochester ' 
can be counted among the prize exhibits of ' The 
Garden of England.' Dick's reputation is in 
bad odour. Injured womenkind vow vengeance 
against their seducer, and resolve to punish him 
summarily — when they catch him. They hatch 
mischief; but their eggs will be addled. 


[One of the Lassesi] 



[Roxburghe Collection, II, 246; Euing, 148 ; Jersey, I, 315=Lindes., 69fi.] 

I&cnttef) Dick; or, £f)e Lustg Coalman of 

Westminster ; 

OTt'tlj an Account Ijoin tje ticnlerj tlje gaiing SLasscs, anfc cause* t^ci'r 

sab Hamcntatton. 

Tune of, Let Mary live long [vol. vi, p. 224]. Licensed according to Order. 


N Westminster Town you there may discover 

A wauering Lover : 

The tawny and brown, as well as the fair, 

He will commonly court, he is ripe for the sport ; 

A Coachman by trade, 
Stout, brawny young Richard, stout, brawny young Richard, 

A. delicate blade. 

He came out of "Kent, with delicate training 

For pleasing young women ; 
He '11 give them content, whereuer he goes ; 
He '11 have at them all, both the short and the tall, 

And follows the trade : 
His name is stout Richard (bis) ; a brawny young blade. 

He 's loath to be ty'd to any one woman, 

He loves to Hue common ; 
The name of a Bride he cannot endure. 
When he 's weary of one to another he'll run : 

Now this is the trade 
Of lusty stout Richard (bis) ; that dexterous blade. 

He's wanton and wild, a stallion he passes ! 

And five or six Lasses 
Are gotten [beguil'd] by him, as I hear ; 
Yet he '11 marry with none, though they make their sad moan, 

But does them degrade, 
A brawny young felloiv (bis), a dexterous blade. 

" Dear Richard ! " one cries, "behold my condition ; 

With humble submission 
And watery eyes, your love I intreat : 
Tell me when we shall wed ? You have [known I 'm ill sped]." 

He does her degrade, 
And swears he '11 not marry an impudent jade. 

She told him again, when first he did use her, 

He would not abuse her ; 
Yet this was in vain : like Hector he swore, 
That he 'd never be ty'd to any one bride ! 

Thus did he degrade 
The poor loving creature (bis), that once ivas a maid. 

A horrible crime ! Some say there are seven, 

And others, eleven, 
At thi* very time, [undone] by this spark, 
Who [are searching] about, for to rind the knave out 

That does them degrade. 
He crys he hath [tric/e'd 'emj (bis), an impudent blade ! 

Kentish Dick : the re-embodied 'Lusty Lawrence* 547 

" We '11 [shear] Mm " (says one) ; " of n[ight-walk]s we'll free him, 

If ever we see him ; 
Or he '11 over-run all maids of the town ! 
Let 's sever from [London] that [wretch, since we 're undone], 

"Which did us degrade." 
He is, I must tell you (bis), an impudent blade.' 1 '' 

Printed for J. Beacon, at the Angel, in Gilt -spur -street, without Newgale. 

[Black-letter. Eight woodcuts: 1st, the Lady, with a crocus or tulip, vol. vi, 
p. 45 ; 2nd, the long-haired youth given here ; 3rd, the lively lady, also here ; 
4th, the two children of ' Kentish Wonder,'' p. 35 ante ; 5th to 8th are women, 
representing Dick's deluded lasses — oue is on p. 545. Date, 1684-89.] 

This ' Kentish Dick ' resembles 'Lusty Lawrance,'' alias 'Lnrrance ' ; whose 
misadventures were recorded in Black-letter. They brought into trouble with 
the Licensers and the Stationers' Company the two printers, Thomas Cross and 
Richard Blackwall (an early case of Cross and Blackwell's pickle !), with infliction 
of a fine of 2s. Qd. for selling the ballad (as may be seen by the llegisters of 
Stat. Comp., 14th June, 1594, and 10th April, 1598 : compare Bagford Ballads, 
Introduction, p. xxxvi, and their Index, note, p. 1073). 'A Second . Part of 
Lusty Larrance, shewing his fall and ende,' has been entered in the Register to 
Thomas Creed, so early as 15th November, 1596. It is extremely probable that 
in ' Kentish Dick ' is preserved a colourable imitation or reproduction of the more 
ancient ' Lusty Larrence, disguised in name and tune, but no farther. No com- 
plaint was lodged against Jonah Deacon, for whom, circa 1689, this ' Lusty 
Coachman of Westminster ' was reprinted, inappropriately ' at the Angel in 
Gilt-spur-street, without Newgate.' If 'Cantuar' had again ' intervened,' it 
might have been Newgate within ! 

These cuts show 'Kentish BicJc' 
and the second of his six Lasses. 
The ballad in Roxb. Coll. precedes 
one on "A modest Maid of Kent," 
who has a pliant conscience of her 
owu. * A Kentish Frolic ' is extra. 


[Pepysian Collection, III, 242. Apparently unique.] 

CJje Jftenttsf) jrtolicfe ; or, ^port upon ^port : 

Bring an Account of Six fgountj fHaiocns, mho, srohnmmg m a 
3&trjcr nfar Canterbury, nj[crc] stffcocnlrr surprtsec bg Six 
founts ffien, fofto, after sporting imtij them in the Kincr, took 
atoarj their smocks, gotons, ano petticoats: intn'cfj occasioned 
much mirth ano pleasant Pastime. 

Tune of, Let Mary live long. [See p. 546.] Licensed according to Order. 

AFrolick of late | was near Canterbury : 
Six Lasses right merry, j 
Joan, Bridget, and Kate, \ Boll, Nancy, and Sue, 
On a hot summer's day, | these all took their way, 
Brisk, buxom, and trim, | to a pleasant River, [i.e. the stour. 

To a pleasant River ; | Resolving to Swim. 

Quoth Joan : " I declare, I '11 show you a River 
Where seldom, or never, Young Gallants come there ; 
Thus private we he, though our skins we expose, 
When we strip off our cloathes ; 'tis private, I know : 

We '11 all in together [Repeat] : come, Girls, let us go ! " 

This being agreed, they tripp'd on together, 
Like birds of a feather ; then coming with speed 
To the River side, in the glass they sat down, 
Where each Lass stript her sown, and smicket likewise : 
To see them all naked [bis] would dazzle your eyes. 

First Joan did begin, and cry'd, "Follow after! 
For warm is the water " : the rest ventur'd in, 
Like Beautiful Swans : thus they bathed to and fro ; 
Still above and below, they sweeten'd their gear. 

Quoth Nancy and Susan [Repeat], " What pleasure is here ! " 

They had not been then | above half an hour, 

E're out of a Bower | came live or six Men, 

Who knew their design : straight they stript to their skin ; 

Where they folio w'd them in, and [espy'd] their gear. 

Quoth Robin, " Young Lasses [bis], what pleasure is here ! " 

Young Joan she did seek | a place amongst rushes 
To hide her sweet blushes : the men to the squeek 
Did put all the rest. Kate, Bridget, and Sue, 
Cry'd, " What shall we do?" The young men reply'd, 
" We are for a frolick ! " [bis] they merrily cry'd. 

The Kentish Frolic ; or, Sport upon Sport. 549 

The Gallants got out | from their charming features, [sic. 

And left the poor creatures to wander about 
In [the] water a while. When the young men w[ere] drest, 
I '11 vow and protest, away they did go 

With gowns, scarves, and coynets [bis], and sniickets also. 

Then over the Lands the Girls run stark naked, 
For they could not take it, with wringing of hands ; 
Sad moan they did make, on their knees they did fall, 
And begg'd of them all to hide their disgrace. 

At length the Young Gallants [bis] did pity their case. 

Each Lass got her gown, and all their Apparel ; 

Thus ended the Quarrel : then coming to Town 

They drank and were friends. For the young men w[ere] kind, 

Being all of one mind : it ne'er had been known 

But only for Susan [Repeat], who quarrel'd with Joan. 


Printed for C. Traceij, at the Three Bibles on London Bridge. 

[Black-letter. Woodcuts: see vol. iv. p. 438. Date, 1689-1693. Two earlier 
ballads, on the same subject, were reprinted in vol. iv, pp. 436 to 441. The first 
had appeared in the Westminster Drollery, Second Part, p. 100, 1672, there 
eniitled " The Bathing Girles ": to the common Galliard tune. It began, " It 
was in June, and 'twas on Barnaby Bright too ! " (meaning the 21st of June, 
O.S., known from St. Barnabas festival as 'Barnaby bright, Barnaby bright, the 
longest day and the shortest night '). Thirteen years later came an imitation 
of it, fixing the locality in Devonshire, licensed by Richard Pocock 1685-88, 
' The Devonshire Damsels' Frolick ' : it begins, " Tom and William, with Ned 
and Bm, in all they were about nine or ten." The tune was named " Where '* 
my Shepherd ? my love, hey ho ! " but the ballad thus cited, ' Cupid's Victory 
over the Maidens' hearts' (reprinted in vol. iii, p. 554), licensed by R. P., 
identifies it as the ' new playhouse tune, or The Maids a washing themselves.' 
(See on a later page, in the ' Group of Female Ramblers,' a ballad to this 
tune, and entitled 'The Wanton Wenches of Wiltshire,' beginning, " Now, 
young batchelors, all draw near ! "). This decides the question of the tune.] 

A different ballad and subject, but bearing a similar title to the Pepysian, 
viz. ' The Kentish Frolick ; or, The Tanner betray'd in his Fat Pig, which he 
pinch'd from the Butcher and brought home in his Bull-hide' : to the tune of 
Ladies of London, licensed by R. Pocock, 1685-83, and printed by J. Blare, 
on London-bridge; begins, " There was a Tanner that lived in Kent" (Douce 
Coll., I, 107). It is reprinted in Miss De Vaynes's Kentish Garland, p. 221, 
vol. i, 1881. 

Of two other Kentish ditties, unreprinted, and not belonging to the Roxb. 
Collection, one, unique, bears the title of 'A "Wonder in Kent ; or, The Admirable 
Stomacke of one Nicholas Wood, dwelling at Harrisom' [= Sarrietsham, near 
Maidstone'], etc. He was 'the great eater.' By It. C.=Richard Crymsall or 
Climsall. Tune of, The Maunding Souldier (iii, 111). Printed for H. Gosson, 
and beginning, ''All you th;it valiant fellows be." The other Pepysian ballad is 
' Hey for Horn-Fair ; or, Room for Cuckolds, here comes a company.' It begin*, 
" At Charlton there was a Fair." Licensed by R. L' Estrange, eircd 1684 ; sung 
to the tune of D'Urfey's Winchester Wedding. (Sec vol. vii, p. 208.) 


[Roxburghe Coll., II, 248 ; Pepys, III, 863; Lincl., 619, 620.] 

Cbe IftentisJ) ^aiDen; 

©r, 'Cge fumbling 3Ic=3Drapcr &m&e&: 

W2L\)0 gabe a f^antjftercfjtef anto ftloncg for a tugfyt's loosing rm'trj 
a ILass, iuljom at Icngtlj fje left in tlje liurclj. 

Tune of, The Languishing Swain. [See p. 413.] Lie. according to Order. 

I Was a modest Maid of Kent, who never knew what kissing meant, 
Until my Master tempted me, with gifts for my virginity. 

Long was I courted ere I 'd yield, and when at last he won the field 
He gave me a lawn kerchief fine, declaring that it should be mine ; 

Likewise a golden Guinea bright, that he might [stay] with me one nijrht. 
I granted his demands straightway : what lass alive could say him nay ? 

He was right generous and free, bestowing such large gifts on me ; 
Yet 1 did such a conscience make, that I would not bis guinea take. 

My conscience saith it was too much to take for just one single touch ; 
And therefore, when he laid it down, 1 took no more tban one poor crown. 

One sorrow never comes alone ; soon after this my Dame did own 
The handkerchief which then I wore, saying that it was her's before. 

Then did she fly at me, in brief, and told me I had play'd the thief. 
" Your words 1 scorn ; no thief am I, nor shall you catch me in a lye. 

"This handkerchief, not long ago, my Master did on me bestow, 

The night he [wish'd] with me to [stayj : now where 's the harm of this, I pray ? " 

The Mistress flew and call'd her 'ore, and by the quoif the maid she tore : 
"Must you, forsooth, my partner be, where there's not [love] enough for me?" 

" Dear Mistress, be not in a rage : you spake the truth, I dare ingage ; 

For though all night he [sought to stay], he could not one sweet lesson [s]ay." 

But straight in wrath reply'd her Dame : " You saucy slut, you are to blame 
In letting him come in your [room] : suppose be 'd [brought you] to your doom ? " 

" Forsooth ! " (said she) " bad it been so, it might have prov'd my Overthrow ! 
But he can never hurt a Maid unless she's by herself betray'd." 

[Black-letter.] Printed for J. Back, at the Black- Boy, on London-Bridge. 

[Two woodcuts, in vol. iii, pp. 349 and 396 : 1st, the bedroom scene, vii, 3-58 ; 
2nd, a blotted scroll ornament, iii, 396. Date, circci 1692.] 

The ballad was formerly also in the Jersey Collection, I, 204=Lindes., 619. 
(It is there printed on verso of lower half of the ' Elegy on Sir Thomas 
1'ilkington ' : see our Bagjord Ballads, pp. 489, 490, and Postscript Supple- 
ment, pp. lxxvi** and ***, issued in 1885. Another duplicate of the ' Kentish 
Maiden,' Lindes., 620, is incongruously printed ou the verso of "To God alone 
let us all glory give ! " — mutilated similarly to Eoxb. Coll., II, 248, lacking 
title, a ballad on the maritime war of 1692, reprinted in our vol. vii, p. 746). 

Probably the same author wrote this ballad of ' The Modest Maid of Kent,' 
and ' The Crafty Lass of the West, who Mortgaged her maidenhead for a High- 
crown'd Hat.' (Roxb. reads ■ Sold.' Perhaps the 'Fair Maid of Islington' was 
his, also (Bagford Ballads, p. 410), she who " was never a penny the worse." 


[Roxburghe Collection, III, 492 ; Douce, III, 28 ; Madden, II, 286.] 

C&e JFatt a^ain of tf)e mm ; 

tSEJja [morttjatjeli] Jjer fHatocnljaoti for a P|fgIj=crotox'ti f^at. 

[Tune of, Liggan- Water : see vol. iii, 475.] Licensed according to Order. 

I Pray attend unto this Jest : A youthful maiden in the West, 
She was gay and handsome too, as I the truth may tell to you ; 
And therefore now I pray attend unto these lines which I have penn'd, 
And if you do not say the same, 1 think you will be much to blame. 

Upon a day it happened so, that she would to [the] market <ro ; 

Taking her money, great and small, to buy a High-crown' d Hat withal. 
As soon as e'er she did come there, unto a shop she did repair, 

AVhere soon a youthful Batchelor did fix his wanton eyes on her. 

" Kind Sir " (said she), " a Hat I 'd have ; and pray let me have what I crave ; 

One that is fine, and light to wear ! " He strait did fit her to a hair. 
" What is the price?" she then reply'd ; " seven shilling I have [not] deny'd." 

" I will fit you well" (to her he said), "because you are a handsome maid. 

" I '11 let you have it for a crown, if that you '11 let me, [and not frown,] 
Embrace you to my heart's content, until a pleasant hour be spent."^ 

She seem'd to blush, and stand a while ; at length she answer'd with a smile : 
" What ! m[e embrace], and money too ? No, kind sir, that will not do .'" 

He strait did whisper in her ear : "I will befriend thee now, my dear : 
Let me enjoy my heart's-delight, and you shall have the Hat outright." 

This Maid she did no longer stand, but struck the bargain out of hand ; 
And having given the youth content, she took her Hat and away she went. 

\W§z Sccont) Part. To the same Tune.] 

NOw as she pass'd along the way, she to herself these words did say : 
" With a fine Hat I now am sped, and all for a silly [kiss, instead ! "] 
Then coming to her mother strait, this hopeful bargain to relate : 

" Mother ! Mother ! as I 'm true, I have a Hat and [my] money too ! " 

" Why, Hussey ! " (her Mother then reply'd)," how was the Haberdasher paid ? " 
" He had [kiss'd, and made me kiss him"], said she ; "which was a great 
plague unto me." 

The good old wife flew in a rage, and nothing could her wrath assuage ; 
Thrusting bur daughter out of door, and said she 'd never own her more, — 

552 Two Crafty Maids, at Rochester and elsewhere. 

If this same Hat she did not take again to the town, and haste to make, 

And give it him, [that amorous swain,] and bring her [payment] back again. 

With sighs and tears she did lament, as to the market-town she went 
To tell the shop-keeper, therefore, he must [what she had paid] restore. 

" For why ? my mother won't agree that I should [let it go]," said she. 

"Why, then, come in ! I will freely part [from] it to thee, with all my heart ! " 
As soon as she did it receive, poor heart ! she did no longer grieve ; 

But made a courtesy to the ground, because she had this kindness found. 

Then home again this lass did hie, and told her mother presently, 
" An honest man he seem'd to be, for he restor'd it willingly.'' 

" Well, daughter, had it not been so, it might have been your Overthrow ; [p. 550. 
But since he did it you restore, see that you play the fool no more." 

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

[Roxb. in White-letter, circa 1772, with two woodcuts : a man, and the oval 
of a girl, p. 548: the bowing man belongs to p. 480. Black-letter editions 
were printed for P. Li'ookshy, J. Deacon, J. Blare, and J. Back, circa 1688. 
They began, " Here is a jest, I do protest, of a young damsel in the West."] 

C&e Craftp $®m ana tfie aBrciseman* 

"Ah ! what is man ? what perils still environ 
The happiest mortals — even alter dinner ! 
A day of gold, from out an age of iron, 
Is all that life allows the luckiest sinner." 

Don Juan, c. iii, 36. 

MANY girls are radically vicious, and seek their own ruin. 
Between the depraved of both sexes is never a pin to choose. 
This Crafty Miss " went to the bad " without benefit of clergy. 

Pedantic professors of purity and prurient prowling prudes, 
being the bond-slaves of vicious instincts and hypocrisy, morbidly 
fastidious, forage after impropriety, wherever their splay feet 
wander. To the impure all mature becomes tainted. They fatten 
their spite on corruption. It is enough if a line of exclusion 
be drawn against what is intentionally foul, in the dull stupidity 
of ballads, or songs, or dramas, or novelettes, that outrage decency. 
Human nature was unruly, even among the rigidly righteous. 

Idealist poets and Utopians dwell alone in the Happy Valley of 
stainless innocence. A false impression of the old-world literature 
would be given if reprints wei'e limited to musty cartularies and 
Star-chamber citations, with dreary tractates and Puritan sermons. 
No offence need be taken at the sharp practice of the ' Crafty 
Miss," who at Rochester punishes the amorous Exciseman by 
eloping with his gold, and leaving him to account for a stolen 
mare left behind her in exchange. Such satires against libertines 
alway found favour, where vice is punished by contempt and loss. 

" This was in Rochester City, the truth you may certainly find ; 
The people afforded no pity, but said he was serv'd in his kind." 

The tune is Moggie's Jealousy (seep. 442 ; and vol. vi, pp. 170, 171 ; vii, 443). 


[Roxb. Collection, II, 577; Pepys, III, 274 ; Douce, I, 23 vo. ; Jersey, I, 50 = 

Lind., 1155.] 

Clje Crafty S®is$; 

©r, Zn (fcjmSMttan tori! fitted: 

Being a true relation of an (£icfse--man fcoTjo latclg, fn the Countu of 
Kent, fjatf receiueo tlje sum of four-score pounos, ana li'gijtfrt] 
into tl)e compang of a (Craftg ftrliss, torjo gaue hint tlje Cljouse 
for it all ; anli, rioing afoag tnitlj f)is ffieloing, left fn its steals 
a iHare fol)icl) slje ftaa stole : for mhicfj iiftare he Inas arraigned, 
anti narrofolg escapee the extreme pcnaltg of tfje £ato. SMhich 
mag fje a sufficient foaming to all (£.rcisc=men, far ana near, to 
ameno tfjeir hues, to Ijate a iftfliss, anrj lone theft mines. 

To the Tune of, Moggie's Jealousie. [See pp. 442, 472 ; and vi, 170.] 

THere was an Excise-man so fine, rode into the County of Kent; 
And there he received much coyn — for that very purpose he went. 
He met with a jolly brave Miss, her beauty was fair to behold, 
But she gave him a Judas' kiss, and shew'd him a trick for his gold. 

She rod[e] on a bonny brave Mare, he rid on a Gelding also ; 
He whisper'd a word in her ear, straightway to an Inn they did go. 
He was of a pretty condition, he call'd her the joy of his life ; 
And then, without auy suspicion, they passed for husband and wife. 

They set up the Mare and the Gelding, and call'd for a Supper with 

speed ; 
Their wine it was plenti'ly fill'd in, and lovingly then they agreed. 
then they were heartily merry, their joys did begin to abound ; 
They drank up full brimmers of Sherry, and the glass it went 

merrily round. 

He had not the sight of his Folly, fond Love had so blinded his eyes ; 
then he was heartily jolly, he thought he had gotten a prize. 
Then whilst they most lovingly greeted, he thought he was certainly 

But ne'r was Excise-man so treated! now comes the cream of 

the jest. 

He pulPd out a purse full of gold, which he had receiv'd for Excise, 
Aud said to his Landlord, "Behold, keep this till next morning 

we rise." 
His Miss she did call him her Honey, and straight to embracing 

they fall ; 
But her mind still run on the money, to give him the Chouse for it all. 

554 The Crafty Miss and the Exciseman at Rochester. 

And whilst he was snoring and sleeping, she thought it no time to 

_ delay, 
But giving the Landlord a meeting, thus unto him she did say : 
" My husband he has not the power to rise, although it be day, 
Yet he hath appointed an hour to pay all this money away. 

" The time doth begin to expire ; then prithee now saddle his steed, 
And, Landlord, I do you desire to fetch me the money with speed." 
The Inn-keeper he did believe it, and fetch ['d] her the four-score 

And she was as glad to receive it; she neither spar'd horse-flesh nor 


But when the Excise-man did waken, and found that his Miss she 

was fled, 
And seeing himself thus forsaken, while he had been sleeping a bed, 
then how he rapped and thunder'd, he was in a cholerick heat ; 
His pockets was pillag'd and plunder'd, he found he had met with 

a cheat. 

The Landlord the chamber did enter, and bowing himself to the 

" Sir, have you forgot where you sent her, to pay-in the four- 
score pound? " 

The Landlord no sooner had said it, but then he was daunted 
straightway ; 

But yet, for the sake of his credit, never a word he would say. 

But then he was fretting and petting, he had n'er a penny of Cole, 
His Miss rid away with the Geldiug, and left him a Mare she had 

Stole: [Cole = money. 

For which they did soon apprehend him, in sorrow he then did 

For they to a prison did send him, where he did till 'Sizes remain. 

And there he was 'raign'd at the Bar, besides all the money he lost. 
O now, you Excise-men, beware ! you see in your courting you 're 

crost ! 
The Bill it had like to 'been found, because he had call'd her his 

Wife : 
It cost him many a pound, and had like to have cost him his life. 

This was in Rochester City, the truth you may certainly find. 
The people afforded no pitty, but said he was serv'd in his kind. 
But now the Excise-man is sorry that ever he met with this Jade, 
For sure she had learu'd her J[o]urny, she lackt but a stock to her 
Trade. jfrnte. 

[Printed for J. Beacon, at the Angel, in Guilt-spur-street.~\ 

[Black-letter. No woodcut. Colophon lost, but supplied from Lind., No. 1155. 
Entered in Stationers' Comp. Registers, 19th June, 168-1.] 


a Ctial of 9fc!il. 

OF a century earlier date than ' The Tar's Frolic,' quoted on 
p. 437, this is a similar Miss-adventure, but one that ends 
more disastrously for the grazier than for the sailor. Such queer 
cattle as they dealt with are sure to lead them astray. The burden 
is, ' Take heed of bad uwmen, therefore : by women are men overthrown. 1 

*#* At this date, and earlier, there were female freebooters, boldly stopping 
travellers on the highway. One ballad, (given in our Second Preface, p. ix*, 
ante), is entitled ' The Female Highway Hector.' In general, they left the 
dangerous 'Pad,' to some male companion, and lived on the proceeds, although 
not avtrse to plunder any ' cully ' on their own account. Similar trickery to that 
employed by the ' Crafty Miss ' at Rochester is shown in the ballads of ' Tom 
the Tailor near the Strand' (vol. vii, pp. 466 to 487) ; and in this ' Trial of Skill.' 

The incident of her leaving a child to be kept is repeated elsewhere, in ' Roger 
the Miller's Present ' (for which see the subsequent group of ballads on ' The 
Rogueries of Millers'). Another ballad on a Grazier is extant — 'The wealthy 
Grazier's Joys Completed ; or, The Shepherd's beautiful Daughter Ohtained.' 

His Love was pure and did endure, and will for evermore ; 
Her beauty bright is his delight, and her he doth adore. 

Tune of, Ladies of London, etc. Licensed by Richard Pocock, 1685-88, and 



" Prithee, sweet creature, sit 

printed for J. Deacon, at the Angel. 
down by my side ; I have no design 
to undoe thee." (Pepys Coll., Ill, 

168; Huth,II, 140: Jersey, I, 113 

= Lindes., 1020). 1 here is a sequel 
to this ballad on the Grazier, en- 
titled, ' An Answer to the Wealthy 
Grazier ; or, An Account of the 
pleasant passages on the Wedding- 
Day.' Same tune, licenser, and 
publisher. With argument-verse : 

Tho' she was mean, yet like a Queen 

She did appear most gay ; 
Her Uncle's gold she did behold 

Upon her wedding-day. 

It begins, " Did you not hear of 
a Wedding of late ? '" (Pepys Coll., 
Ill, 172 ; Douce, I, 5 verso.) 

'A Trial of Skill ' was sung to the 
good old tune of I'm ragged and 
torn and true, so named from Martin 
Parker's ballad, which was registered 
20th December, 1630 ; beginning, 
" I am a poor man, God knows, and 

all my neighbours can tell." (ither [This is the ' poor decayed Gentlewoman ' of 
names of the tune are, Old Sir Simon ' A Trial of skil V P- 554 -] 

the King and When this Old Cap teas New. Popular Music, pp. 264, 267, 776.) 


[Itoxb. Coll., 111,52 ; Pepys, IV, 303 ; Rawlinson, 114 ; Huth, IT, 23 and 121 ; 
B.M., Case 22, e. 2, art. 20 ; Jersey, I, 162, and II, 196, 255 =Lindes, 731-3.] 

a Crpall of <8>fcW; 

Perform'ti tjg a poor "Dccag'ti ©tntleiooman, tofja cljratco a rid) 
(Kraster of Scbm=srorc Ipounb, ana left Ijiin a cfjtlo to keep. 

If you will know, then listen a while, 

And yon shall know that which will make you smile. 

The Tune is, Ragged and torn [and true. See p. 555 ; and vol. ii, p. 409]. 

Kind Country-men, list to my Ditty, I pray you, what ever you be ; 
I know that my case you will pitty, 1 pray then take warning by me. 
Seven-score pounds I did loose, beside a fine [child for to nurse] ; [mutilated. 

My Sweetheart she did me abuse, and lett me no coyn in my purse. 

Take heed of bad women, therefore : by women are men overthrown, 

And rich men are often made poor, when as they keep more than their own. 

I brought some Cattel to Town, and sold them for seven-score pound, 

But money-less then 1 went home, with sorrow incompassed around ; 

A dainty fine Cloak-bag I bad, within it my treasure 1 laid : 

My fortune it maketh me sad, to think how I was betray'd. Take heed, etc. 

As through Cheap-side I did pass, mistrusting no manner of harm, 
I met with a poor decay'd Lass, with a pretty tine child in her arm ; 
She seemed in [her] habit to be a Gentlewoman made poor : 
She asked relief then of me, then I thought to make her my whore. 

Quoth she, " Pray yield some relief ! " (these words then unto me she said), 
" Unto a poor wretch full of grief, a poor Gentlewoman decay'd ! " 
" Fair Mistris " (quoth I), "I do grieve to see you distressed to be, 
But I all your wants will relieve, if you will be ruled by me. 

" Go with me [now] unto my Inn, and there you shall lye at your ease ; 
You never was brought up to spin, but Gentlemen's humours to please : 
I 'le tell them that you are my Wife', and this is my child that you have " : 
'Twas I that did breed all the strife, and with me my self plaid the Knave. 

She seem'd to be overjoy'd, and cast a sheep's-eye upon me ; 
She " could not be better imploy'd," and so we did quickly agree. 
When unto the Inn I did come, her fingers did itch at my pelf ; 
1 call'd for a large fair room, for my wife, my child, and myself. 

A dainty fine Supper we had, and brought up unto us with speed ; 
But all the charge lay upon me, I paid for it soundly indeed. 
Now when we had sup'd, I kist her, and she was as willing as I : 
But would to God that I had mist her, and her decay'd Gentility ! 

Down stairs then softly she went, and call'd for my Cloak-bag with speed: 
This Harlot was surely bent for to undo me [indeed]. [text, rep. ' with speed.' 
" My Night-cloaths are in it," quoth she (in such mischief, Harlots are rife) ; 
He gave her my Cloak-bag most free, as thinking she had been my wife. 

She cunningly slunk out of doors, when no body did her mind : 
1 may bid a p[est] of all whores, for leaving her bastard behind. 
Now farewell my sevenscore Pound, Lul-a-by must be my song ; 
1 'm left like a Horse in the Pound : 'tis I that must suffer the wrong. 

A Trial of Skill on a Grazier 557 

I call'd her to come unto bed, not thinking I had been undone ; 

I look'd like a man had been dead, when as I perceiv'd she was gone : 

I fretted, I fum'd, I swore ; the child had got a new Dad ! 

And when I began for to ro[a]re, the people did think I was mad. 

The Chamberlain run up amain : " Sir, what is tbe matter? " quoth he. 
" call back that woman again, for she hath quite ruined me : 
She leaveth her bastard behind her, on purpose to shorten my life : 

prethee, see if thou can'st find her : for why ? she is none of my wife ! 

" But where is my Cloak-bag, I pray? for therein lies all my gains." [pains !" 
" I gave it your wife, by my fay ! " " Then would you were hang'd for your 
' ' You call'd her your wife and your honey ! why should not your wife then be bold, 
To have the command of your money, your Cloak-bag, your silver and gold?" 

The child lay crying apace, and I lay swearing as fast ; 
To understand rightly my case the Inn-keeper came at the last: 
When he understood the matter, he said he was glad 'twas no worse ; 
H e told me that he would not flatter, for I must provide me a Nurse. 

" 1 'm sorry you met with this [C]harlot, the cause of your sorrow and grief, 
But you would have made her your harlot, if she had not proved a thief : 
You wanted a Hit for your Cat, to purge out your mad melancholy ; 

1 pray you think wisely of that, for you have paid well for your folly." 

This was all the comfort he gave me ; I was never before so beguil'd ; 
The folks in the house did out-brave me, and bid me provide for my child. 
1 carried [the] child unto nurse, to end all the struggle and strife : 
With never a groat iu my purse, I went home unto my wife. 

No wonder that meat is so dear, the Grasier so pincheth the poor ; 

But now, it doth plainly appear, the Grasier maintaineth a whore. 

Since wemdies so chargeable are, the Grasier had need to be witty, 

If ever it should be his care to fetch his loss out of the City. 

Take heed of bad women, therefore : by women are men overthrown, 

And rich men are often made poor, luhen as they keep more than their own. 


Printed for F. Coles, T. Fere, J. Wright, and J. Clarke. 

[Black-letter. Two woodcuts: 1st, the Old Cavalier, p. 55; 2nd is the top 
half of the Lady given complete on p. 555. Another edition (Brit. Mus., 
C. 22, e. 2, art. 20) was printed for J. Wright, J. Clarke, W. Thackeray, 
and T. Passenger. Date of Iloxb., before 1681 : the original was earlier.] 

*x* On p. 443 another Kentish ditty, 'A Mad Marriage' at Deptford, is reprinted. 
In confirmation of this ballad and attempted fraud, a four-leaved pamphlet, 4to., 
is extant, entitled, ' The She-Wedding ; or, A Mad Marringe between Mary, 
a Seaman's Mistress, and Margaret, a Carpenter's Wife, at Deptford ; being the 
full Relation of a Cunning Intrigue carried on and managed by two women, 
t'> hide the discovery of a bigb[o]y, and make the parents of [Mary's] Sweetheart 
provide for the same ; for which fact the said parties were both Committed, and 
one of them now remains in the Round House at Greenwich, the other being 
bailed out. 1684.' ' Cheat upon Cheat^ promised on p. 443, is given on p. 558. 


Ci)eat upon Cl)eat; 

©r, Cbe Defcaticfjt ©pgocute: 

Being a true Account of JEiuo fHaibcns, toljo Ubeb m London, near 
Fish-street, the one bring uamcb Susan, tlje otljer Sarah. Susan, 
bring bressco tn fflan's apparel, courteb &troA, to the great 
trouble of tlje occcirjco Qamoscl, fcnja tljougfjt to be pleasur'b bg 
her bn'oaI=nt'gIjt's lobgtug : as gou ™ a 2 fi"b U S tfje ■Sequel. 

To the Tune of, Tender hearts of London City. [See p. 443, <m£<?.] 

When maidens come to love and dote, and want the use of man, 
Against their wills they needs must shew 't, let them do what they can. 

COme and hear the strangest story euer Fortune lay'd before ye, 
Of a Wedding strange but true ; 
For such a one was neuer known, as I will now declare to you. 

There was two maids in London-City, one was wanton, t'other witty, 

Sue and Sarah was their names ; 
It doth appear they married were, and Sarah tasted Cupid's flames. 

A Gentleman, that lived nigh 'um, had a mighty mind to try 'um, 

And this Susan did ingage 
That she would go, and court her so, that he her passion might 
ass wage. 

Disguis'd went she, and fell to wooing; Sarah she would needs be 

So she quickly gave consent. 
They soon agreed to match with speed ; but now poor Sarah doth 

lament. ['A stanza transposed. 

Susan strangely was disguised ; Sarah's heart was soon surprized, 

So that she did condescend ; 
She ne'er deny'd to be a Bride, but her young Lover did commend.* 

Sarah thought love her befriended, now but mark what this attended, 

And 'twill make you much admire 
Tliat Susan she so arch should be, to set poor Sarah's heart on fire. 

"With sword and wigg was Susan dress'd, Sarah thought that she 
was blessed 

With a Gallant, none more fair : 
But pity 'twas, a wanton Lass should be so much mistaken there. 

"While her joys were [not] completed, Sarah was extreamly cheated, 

Which did make her vitals fail ; 
To [w]ed they went, with joynt consent, and she found a [hope] 

witllOU t [avjail. [ = fclis Manxia, sine Cauda. 

Cheat upon Cheat. 559 

Now is Sarah much concerned, but by this some wit sbc learned, 

Though she for it paid full dear, 
For from her eyes, with fresh supplies, down trickles many a 
brackish tear. 

Now is Sarah discontented, her misfortune much lamented: 

Maidens, then, pray have a care! 
Lest Susan comes, with Sugar-plums, to bring poor damsels into 

a snare. [Qf. p. 109, 2nd stanza. 

Quoth Sarah, " Why would you abuse one, whom you lov'd, 

deceitful Susan ? 

Why would you me thus betray?" 
"Oh! then," quoth she, " 'twas Jollity ! that made me thus the 

an tick play. 

u Let no one know how you miscarry' d, how mistaken when you 

marry'd ; 

For 'twill make the world to laugh : 
Tou walk'cl your round, and then you found a Constable without 

a staff." 

"Wonder not why this I write you, to be merry I invite you, 

And to none do harm, I think ; 
Let Sarah grieve, Sue did deceive, which made poor Sarah's heart 
to sink. 

To all maids let this be a warning! All are wise that still are 


Beauty is a meer decoy ; 
Then have a care, least Cupid's snare do make you curse the 

blinking boy. 

Printed for/. Blare, at the Looking- Glass, in the New-Buildings 

on London-Bridge. 

[Black-letter. Two cuts: hostess with tavern score, vi, 475 ; bedroom scene, vii, 

458. Date, 1683-4.] 

*#* What has become of ' The Debauched Hypocrite ' ? He was mentioned 
in the title-vole, and seen in the third stanza, instigating' Susan's disguise, which 
is the first cheat. He disappears from the two broadsides (viz. Huth, I, 28, and 
Jersey, II, 286 = Lindes., 230). Neither of these exemplars, being Blare's edition, 
fulfils the promise of giving what "you may find in the sequel," the ' Cheat upon 
Cheat.' We detect another hand in Brooksby's unique broadside. It tells how the 
man sought to ruin Sarah by disguising himself as the mock-husband, Susan, his 
own confederate. This 'witty' young Hempseed juggles him. Sarah, the sham- 
wife, is induced to hide herself, and be personated by the ubiquitous Sue, who 
plays her cards so well that she wins a gold chain and ring from him as tokens, 
and afterwards forces him to marry her, by threatening to betray him to the scorn 
of London-town. The ' debauched hypocrite ' yields to his fate, although in fear 
of his wife agam cheating him, after having made such a sorry bargain. But so 
did Helena with the recreant Bertram, in All 'a Weil that Ends Well. 

560 Cheat upon Cheat. 

2Hjc Srccma Part. To the same Tune. 

WHile poor Sarah was belated, cunningly the Young-man waited ; 
Then he thought " My turn has come ! " 
Strait with Susan he arranged, she and he their cloth[e]s exchanged ; 
In he march'd, with tuck of drum. 

Lewd was his intent, and wicked, hut the Trickster he was tricked, 

Susan play'd a double game; 
She sought to be richly mated, caught him in the snare he baited, 

Without fear of loss or shame. 

In the dark he crept, disguised, to kiss Sarah, who[m] he prized, 

Soon from her to hast [e J away ; 
Saying, " She shall mourn her ruin, and blame Sue for her undoing, 

"When she sees the light of day ! " 

Susan cunningly had plotted to enthrall the Swain besotted, 

Hiding Sarah at her beck : 
Susan pleas'd him, made him linger, drew a ring from off his finger, 

And a gold chain from his neck. 

Late he rose to go, next morning, Susan said, " Prithee, take warning, 

Since you think I cheated be ; 
Cheat on Cheat comes with the morrow, you shall meet both shame 
and sorrow 

If you do not marry me!" 

When she threaten'd to betray him, calling Sarah to waylay him, 

As her witness, face to face ; 
Soon the Hypocrite he yielded, marry'd Susan, to be shielded 

From their mockery and disgrace. 

They, fast bound in Hymen 's tether, all three now must live together ; 

He to both their tongues doth yield : 
Dare he try to be their master, he would court a worse disaster, 

Since two Women hold the field. 

You Young-men who are deceivers, learn in Maids to be believers ; 

Maids are witty, and will win : 
Marry one whom you can trust, no true joy is bought by lust ; 

Death the wages is of sin. 


Printed for P. Broohsly, J. Deacon, J. Blare, J. Bach. 
[b.-l., circd 1684.] 


ifto;cburgI)e Ballatis. 


TVJUNCHA USEN-like, this 'foolish Greek' began 

To draw the long-bow, a ' Swaggering-Man,' 
With "A AV«/-street Souldier's exact relation 
Of all his Travels in every nation." 

It was Richard Climsall who sang of the fun done, 
And chose for his tune the ' Slow men of London.' 

Roome for a Lad that 's come from Seas, 

Hey, folly Broome-man .' 
That gladly now would take his ease, 

And therefore make me roome, ?nan." 

1 When Tamburlaine overcame the Turke, 
I blew up thousands in a worke." Etc. 

[circii 1635. 

But [since] I have now compas'd the Globe, 
I am backe return'd, as poore as Job."— Vol 

', 5°3- 


illustrating t&e Last gears of tfrc Stuarts. 





Vol FOT* Part Mh 

ffiwup of fHtsccIIanccus onto Eeltgfotts Ballads ; 
on tfje Hocjucrtcs of fHtllcrs; 
antJ a Group of JFemale Eamblcrs. 

' 'Tis gone, with its thorns and its roses, 
With the dust of dead ages to mix ! 
Time's charnel for ever encloses 
The Year Eighteen Hundred [Nine] Six," 

But we who pass free thro'' the heaven 
Of Ballads and Songs and Folklore., 

Still rejoice in Eighteen Ninety -Seven, 
And now offer you ONE VOLUME MORE. 


Printer) for t&c 16allaD Society, 




'•The Hunt is up, the Hunt is up ! 
And now it is almost day ; 
But he that's in bed, with another man's" cap. 
It 's time for his ballads to pay. 

"The Hunt is up, the Hunt is up !" 
Sing we a roundelay ! 
The Hart may couch on the sward, or sup : 
He has held all his Joes at bay. 



No. 36. 



[ This cavalcade of loyal Cavaliers is not the ' Diamond Jubilee ' of 1897.] 

preface to #art %%&. 

"Ask nothing more of me, Sweet ; 
All I can give you, I give, 
Heart of my heart : were it more, 
More would be laid at your feet. 
Love that would help you to live, 
Song that would spur you to soar ; 

Ask nothing more of me, Sweet, 

Ask nothing more, nothing more." 

—A. C. Swinburne. 

E have now completed the Roxburghe Ballads, 
and their 'Additional Notes,' in the year of 
our most gracious and beloved Empress Queen 
Victoria's Diamond Jubilee, 1897. The four 
hundred and sixteen pages end our reprint 
of the enormous ' Roxburghe Collection of 
Ballads,' to which Her Majesty has been a 
constant subscriber for her Windsor Library, 
from the beginning of the Ballad Society in 1869. 

%* It is necessary to divide into two halves the 416 pages, for two years' 
subscriptions, if paid in advance, now ready for simultaneous issue; including 
our copious Ballad- Index to this Vol. VIII (Part XXVI, for 1898: 2,300 
separate entries of first lines, burdens, titles, or sub -titles, and tunes). Also the 
General Introduction. 

There remains, for separate binding in a convenient single Part, the complete 
Index to Historical names and events for the entire Eight Volumes : 
but without prepayment the Name- Index cannot be set in type and issued. 

j. \V. E. 

viii** Eighteen hundred ballads reprinted here, complete. 

Money for prepayment of this General Index is urgently needed, as well 
as for payment of the couple of present Parts XXV and XXVI (since they 
form a total of no less than twenty-six sheets, i.e. 416 pp.). Subscribers 
alone must bear the blame, if there be farther delay of payment. The Editor's 
toil has been heavy, but gratuitous, for a score of years ; it included the drawing 
and engraving innumerable woodcuts. A few others are still needed ; also the 
two promised copper-plate portraits, one being of the late William Cbappell, 
F.S.A. For these his successor alone is responsible, as private giver. 

Beginning on p. 737, and continuing to p. 880, "Additional Notes " 
are now given, to bring up the first three volumes to the standard 
of completeness, at this latest date (May, 1897), and also to fulfil 
every promise concerning the other five volumes. Attention is 
particularly directed to pp. 737-744, for a true statement of the 
relative proportion of the reprinted Roxburghe Ballads to the 
Pepysian, Rawlinson, Euing, and Wood Collections. From each 
of these, and from elsewhere, including the private Trowbesh 
series, large selections have been made, with this result, that no less 
than eighteen hundred complete ballads or songs have been reprinted in 
these eight volumes : of ■which only three hundred and ninety-seven 
had appeared in Mr. Wm. Chappell's three vols, before the present 
Editor began vol. iv. Such being the case, verified in detail, no 
apology whatever is needed or advanced for the great extension of 
the work to its full complement of Eight bulky volumes (some, 
in binding, had better be divided into two parts — and ' Second 
Division' title pages can be provided). It is true that, once and 
again, there have been hints and statements of a premature con- 
clusion with Vol. VII. But this was because it appeared hopeless 
to sustain, for the additional years required, such a struggle, at 
cost of health, patience, and sorely restricted private resources : 
■wholly unsupported from outsiders. With such faint-heartedness 
among subscribers, who appeared incapable of understanding or 
valuing the solitary exertions of their unhired, unpaid, but willing 
purveyor — the total silence of critics (except the Athenmim and 
Notes and Queries, gallant upholders both, while other journals 
received no press-copies through a culpable miserliness), it seemed 
well-nigh impossible to complete the ambitious design. "Tune 
and the Hour run through the roughest day," and the work lias 
now reached its Finale. 

The Ballad Society started in 1868 with a splendid income. The list of 
subscribers in 1871 shows an annual Subscription List of £213 3s., viz. 
sixteen large-paper at three guineas per annum and 155 small-paper at a guinea 
per annum. Had the outgoing work been liberally furnished at greater 
speed (as in the Percy Society, quarterly, four of its booklets, instead of our 
one, at a wire-drawn twelve-months' interval), the membership might have 
continued satisfactory, and possibly increasing ; although in general all Book- 
Societies decline after the novelty is passed. Capricious idlers become weary ; 
they drop their payments in discontent. Death carries off a terrible percentage. 
Care need be taken to flatter and attract subscribers by generous outputs, 
by activity, and speedy progress. The Ballad Society's grand income never 
increased, but was frittered away in premature payments to incompetent copyists, 

Our labouring barque, thai did not founder. ix** 

of text9 that would not be needed for a score of years : some (long narrative 
'Garlands,' Civil- War prosaic inanities, and modern stall-copy 'slip-songs') 
never to be actually used at all. The most wasteful extravagance of space 
was persisted in, with unsightly blanks, and unrestricted repetition of half-page 
blocks whenever they had reappeared in the original broadsides (see p. 738). 
Nine years gave reprints of no more than three hundred and ninety-seven ballads : 
yet these were almost without annotation or exhaustive introductions. Then the 
woful blunder of reducing to half-price the first nine years' issue damaged the 
commercial value, affording an excuse to grumblers who stopped payment, in 
hope to make up their own arrears at lessened cost. *77<e Bagford Ballads' 1 were 
undertaken and completed by J. W. E., in two ' Divisions,' a total of 1200 pp. 

In 1879-80, Mr. William Chappell (to whom love, gratitude, and reverence 
are due) felt the encroachments of age, and requested his willing friend and 
admirer, the present Editor, to take in hand the remainder of the increasingly 
heavy task : all the historical ballads being yet untouched, except that most 
untrustworthy transcripts had been made twelve years before. At this time the 
number of subscribers was only 124, and eight large-paper. Total, £155 8s. 

In 1884 the income was £164 7s. 4rf. ; in 1885, when many deaths had 
occurred, £124 15s. lid.; in 1886, £151 6s. 0d.; in 1887, £144 5s. 4.; in 
1888, £144 13s. \0d. ; in 1889, £183 6s. id. ; and lastly, in December, 1890, 
before issuing Part XXI, £138 4s. I0d., leaving a balance of no more than 
£13 5s. 4d. to meet the expenses of the current Part for 1891 beyond the expected 
subscriptions. Since that date heavy arrears began to accumulate year by year, 
for the printers' bill, to be paid by the subscribers. With this drawback it 
has been difficult to accelerate completion of the work, in Parts XXV, XXVI, 
before the present date, and to include the Ballad Index in this final volume. 

That the Index to Historical Names and Events, for so 
voluminous and varied a work as the whole Eight Volumes, is 
desirable and almost indispensable, needs no elaborate argument. 
It cannot be obtained without the speedy help of an additional 
Guinea Subscription from every member of the Ballad-Society, and 
all previous arrears must be cleared off before it is sent to press. 
This should be the Editor's final work for the Ballad-Society. 
Insufficient funds preclude the chance of continuing with a separate 
publication of the Civil -War Ballads, or the numerous valuable 
and unique b.-l. broadsides or imprinted early manuscripts which 
were within the scope of the present Editor. It is time for the 
curtain to fall, with the Supplementary Part, viz. ' The Complete 
Index.' It is hopeless to anticipate that a combined and condensed 
'■Ballad Index to the Eight Volumes'' could gain support, to accompany 
the ' Historical Names Index.' ' Rest, and be Thankful ! ' 

How much has been achieved single-handedly since 1879, by eighteen years 
of labour and decreasing income (more than doubling the output at less than half 
the outlay of funds), let his vols, iv, v, vi, vii, and viii be cited in proof. At the 
close of vol. vii, in 1893, Part XXII, it appeared possible to anticipate the 
completion of the Ballads in one more Part, reckoning the remainder to be 
a hundred. But this was confronting the probable exhaustion of funds, if not 
also of life and pertinacity. It would have entailed the omission of the ' Sempill 
Ballates,' the ' Bobin Hood Ballads,' forty ballads of 'Female Ramblers,' and 
other risky portraitures; with all 'extras' from various collections of unique 
exemplars; and forty of the slip-songs. Nevertheless, at heavy cost in these 
880 pp. of vol. viii, the whole are given back to the world, to a total of not merely 
ninety, but three hundred and sixty-one complete and distinct ballads or songs. 


x** Apologue of l The Female Ramblers Group.' 

Among the rarities hitherto unattainable, but now given in this 
final volume, we may claim some gratitude for the resurrection of 
'Barra Faustus's Dream,' both parts, widely dissevered in date : the 
b.-l. 'Second Part' belonging to 164U, reissued at the Restoration, 
probably also in 1670: the original First Part before 1609, or 
probably 1600. 'The New Broome-on-Hill ' and ' Complaint of 
a Sinner ' (both mutilated, in the unique exemplars) supply 
invaluable missing-links. The recovery of the genuine ' Duke's 
Wish': I'll ask no more (a final satire on the future James II, 
preceding the death of Charles II, in February, 168 J), rewards our 
search since 1882. We pity the poor nondescripts who cannot 
"snatch a fearful joy" from the complete broadside narrative of 
'The Lusty Miller's Recreation' (p. 618), despite its theological 
undercurrent of moral impressiveness. Admittedly, some naughty 
Light-of-heels disported among the ' Female Ramblers ' Group, of 
Kent and elsewhere, but merely as the forerunners of the 'Vampire ' 
so convincingly limned by Philip Burne- Jones and Rudyard Kipling 
in this present year of the Diamond Jubilee — 

Fool there was, and he made his prayer 
( Even as you and I !) 
To a rag and a bone and a hank of hair 
(We called her ' the woman who did not care ') ; 
But the fool he called her his Lady Fair 
(Even as you and I !). 
Oh the years we waste, and the tears we waste, 
And the work of our head and hand 
Belong to the woman who did not know 
{And now we know that she never could know) 
And did not understand 

' ' The fool was stripped to his foolish hide 
(Even as you ^nd I !), 
Which she might have seen when she threw him aside 
(But it isn't on record the Lady tried) ; 
So some of him lived, hut the most of him died 
(Even as you and I !). 
And it isn't the shame, and it isn't the blame 
That stings like a white hot brand — 
It ' ' s coming to know that she never knew whg 
{Seeing at last she could never know why), 
And never could understand ! " 

R. K. 

If there be any silly moths who are dazzled by the glare of such 
baleful light as illuminates the features of the detected ' Vampire ' 
or ' Female Rambler ' of each successive age in the world's history, 
unchanging in vice although diverse in costume and language, they 
are warned in time by these ^Roxburghe Ballads' 



May Day, 18 l J7. 


(Hypatia of Alexandria, preceptress, a.d. 415.) 

JJONOUR ivhere due ! honour and loving faith 

Enshrine the true ' New Woman ' of old time, 
The ivise Hypatia; prompt to charm and guide 
Upward and onward to the heights unsealed. 

Her own dark age scarce prized her scope or aim : 
She shames the rant of our late boastful crew, 
Who now, unsex'd, disgrace pure womanhood, 
J Tors hipping Self as their sole deity. 

' The Female .Ramblers ' of two centuries past, 
Like ours, in viciousness of wanton guile, 
Were cursed with lures that tempt to mortal sin ; 
Cruel as death, fatal with Love or Mate. — J. w. e. 


(One Hundred and Fifty-One distinct Ballads or Songs.) 
Being Third and Fourth Portions of Final Volume Eight. 

Preface to Part XXV .... 

The New-Made Gentlewoman ; or, The Dishonest Lady 
The Subtle Damosel; or, Good Counsel for Maids. B 

John Wade ..... 
The Tar's Frolic ; or, British Sailor 
The Jolly Sailor (cf. p. 843). 
The Skilful Doctor of Gloucestershire ; or, A New Way to 

take Physic ..... 
The Gloucestershire Tragedy ; or, The Lovers' Downfall 

The Parent's Pious Gift ; or, A Choice Present for Children 
The Father's Good Counsel to his Son ; or, A Caveat against 

Wenching ...... 










The Dream of Judas's Mother Fulfilled . . .583 

The Complaint of a Sinner. (Partially restored text.) . 585 

The New Broome . . . . . 586 

Christ's Love to Penitent Sinners. (Better text on p. 795.) 588 
Jephtha's Basil Vow . . . . .591 

The Duke's Wish ; or, I '11 ask no more . . .594 

Bar'ra Faustus's Dream ..... 596 
The Second Part of Bar'ra Faustus's Dream, 1640 . . 598 

The Ingenious Braggadocio ..... 600 
A Song upon the Wooing of a Widow. By Rich. Climsall . 601 

The London Cuckold ; or, An ancient Citizen's head fitted . 603 
Whitechapel Maid's Lamentation ; Westminster Madam's 

Lamentation; Dounslow-Heath ; Ccesar's Ghost : quoted 606-608 

(Etottp of Eoib. 13130. on the Bcrjucrics of iiMlcrs 609 

The Deaf Miller of the Forest of Dean, Gloucestershire . 610 

The Miller's Advice to his Three Sons, on taking of Toll . 61 1 

A New Song, in ' The King and the Miller of Mansfield ' . 613 
Le Heup at Hanover: a New Song . . .615 
The Lusty Miller's Recreation ; or, The Buxom Female's 

Chief Delight . . . . . .618 

The Jolly Miller: by Tom D'Urfey. (See p. 850.) . 621 

Grist Ground at last ; or, The Frollick in the Mill . . 622 

Ill-gotten Goods seldom Thrive; or, The English Antic . 623 

Roger the Miller's Present, sent by the Farmer's Daughter . 625 
The Crafty Maid of the West; or, The lusty brave Miller, of 

the Western parts, finely trapan'd. By John Wade . 626 

The Berkshire Tragedy ; or, The Witt'am Miller . . 629 

The Barnard-Castle Tragedy ( = Betty Howson's Tragedy) . 633 

The Constant Lady and False-hearted Squire . . 635 

The Esquire's Tragedy ; or, The Unfortunate Lover's Farewell 637 

Folk-Lore Rhymes of Kent : A Queer Neighbourhood . 640 

2Ehe ©roup of Jcmalc Eamblrrs . . 641 

The Female Rambler up to Date : Fin de Steele . -642 

The Female Bamblers; or, The Three Buxom Lasses of 

Northamptonshire, their pastime at the Nag's-Head . 645 
The Three Buxom Maids of Yoel (=Yeovil); or, The 

Pleasant Intrigue with a Sieve-maker . . 647 

The Intrigues of Love ; or, One worth a Thousand . . 619 
The Wanton Wenches of Wiltshire : Pleasant Discourse 

between Four Young Females, overheard by two Men . 651 

The Mournful Maid of Berkshire, her Woeful Lamentation . 653 

The Norfolk Lass ; or, The Maid that was Blown, etc. 665, 853 

The IJnhapp)' Lady of Hackney .... 658 

The Benefit of Marriage, with Counsel to Bachelors, quoted . 660 

Actajon; or, The Origin of Horn-Fair (MS.), quoted . 662 






Hey for Horn -Fair ; or, Room for Cuckolds, here comes 
a company !, 1685 ..... 

General Summons for those belonging to the Hen-pecked 
Frigate to appear at Cuckold's Point on 18 October: 
A New Song on Horn-Fair, 1686 

Tom Farthing ; or, The Married Woman's Complaint 670, 

The Swaggering Man. (Compare iii, 576.) 

Early Ballads on Fairings, quoted. (See pp. 860, 861.) 

A Fairing for Young Men ; or, The Careless Lover. By C. H. 

A Fairing for Maids. By J. P. (probably John Play ford) . 
"What can a young lassie do wi' an auld Man ?" By R. Burns 

The Young Woman's Complaint ; or, A Caveat to all Maids 

to have a care how they be married to Old Men 
The Ploughman's Praise, in a Dialogue between a Mother 
and Daughter. (Compare p. 863.) 
Blind eats many a Fly ; or, The Broken Damsel 
made whole ...... 

Rest, and be Thankful : A Halt on tbe Wayside 

Two Entire Lovers ; or, The Young Man and Maid's 

Grief crowned with Joy and Comfort . 
The Shepherd's Ingenuity ; or, Praise of the Green-Gown 
The Longing Shepherdess; or, Laddy, lie near me. By 

Robert Guy. (Completion on p. 865.) 

Laddy, lie near me. (Brief North- Country Version.) 
The Unsatisfied Lover's Lamentation 

Have at a Venture .... 

A Homely Dialogue betwixt a Young Woman and her Sweet 
heart. (Note on p. 866.) 

Epitaphium Uxoris : ante 1769 . 
The Politic Countryman, in choosing a Wife 
Mirth for Citizens; or, A Comedy for the Country . 
TheAVestminster Frolic ; or, A Cuckold is a Good Man's Fellow 
A Pleasant Jig between Jack and his Mistress ; or, The 
Young Carman's Courage cooled 

Cupid's Recruiting Sergeant, " From Paphos Isle " 

The Lovers' Battle : a sore Combat between Mars and Venn 
The Country-Man's Paradise 

The Lady of Pleasure ; or, The London Misse's Frolic 
The Miser Mump'd of his Gold; or, The Merry Frolic o: 

a Lady of Pleasure at Bartholomew-Fair 
The High-prized Pin-Box 
The Lusty Friar of Flanders 
The West-Country Wonder; or, William the Serving-man's 

Good -Fortune ..... 
The Rioters' Ruin : The Two-penny Score : In a Dialogue 

or, A Relation of a Two-penny Bargain 
" I '11 o'er Bogie with him." (See Note on p. 871 .) 



















Through the Wood, Laddy : A new Scots Tune . • 722 
Captain John Bolton, his trial at York, March, 1775, for the 

murder of Elizabeth Rainbow, of A ck worth . . 724 
A Sorrowful Lamentation and last Farewell of all the 

Prisoners to be executed, etc., 1780. (Compare p. 875.) 726 

Solvitur Ambulando . . . • .til 

La Fenaison (Making hay while the sun shines) . . 728 

Love lies a Bleeding, 1653-54 .... 730 

Maidenhood : Dix-septieme. Ad Psycheni . . 734 

An English Maiden : Toujours a Toi . . • Ibid. 

Maidens Fair : An Epilogue to the ' Female Ramblers ' . 735 

Repertoire Alphabetique : Roxb. Ballads Horn-Book . 736 

Introduction to Roxburghe Ballads. (Part XXYI.) i x *** 

gtrtn'tfonal Notes to the Eight Hols, of ftoib. Ballaos . 737 

Love's Eiddle Resolved (Foundation of ballad) . .749 

Advice to the Beaus. By Tom D'Urfey . . . 752 

The Loyal Feast, designed to be held 21 April, 1682 . 754 

Answer to the Pamphlet called ' The Loyal Feast ' . 755 

Loyalty Triumphant; or, Phanaticism Displayed . . 756 

Upon the Gunpowder Plot. (Completed.) . . . 757 
An excellent new Ballad, shewing the Pedigree of King 

James, the First of that name in England . . 758 

Private Occurrences ; or, Transactions of the four last years. 760 

Dick the Ploughman turned Doctor. (Completion.) . 761 

The Cabal; or, A Voice of the Politic[ian]s : circa 167 i . 762 

" From Dawn to Sunset, night and morn " . .764 

" In the Land of Topsyturveydom " . . . Ibid. 

The Secrets of our Prison-IIouse : The Anticipation . 766 

„ ,, ,, The Realization . 767 

How the Cavalier Secrets were Learnt . . -768 

The Second Part of St. George for England. By John Grubb 771 

Completion of ' The Old Pudding-Pie Woman'' . . 776 

Completion of ' The Ragman ' (vol. vii, p. 78) . . 777 
Friendly Advice to Extravagants . . . .779 

Completion of ' The Seaman's Doleful Farewell ' . . 780 

The Sailor's Song of Joy for gaining his Love. By R. Climsall 782 

Completion of ' Love and Loyalty well met' . . Ibid. 

Mally Stuart (Original of ' It was a' for our rightful King') 784 

Sir G. Wharton and Sir James Stewart. By John Davies . 785 

England's Captivity Returned ; Farewell to Commonwealths 787 

Charles King of England safe on Shore ; or, The Royal 

Landing at Dover, May, 1660 .... 788 

Dialogue between the Laird of Brodie and Lilias Brodie : on 

the Death of William III . .791 

Taffy Up to Date : " Taffy was a Welshman " (ef. p. 883) . 792 

A Song made for the True-Blue Frigate . . . 793 




The Bad-Husband's Eeformation ; or, The Ale-Wives' Daily 
Deceit ...... 

The Ale-Wives' Invitation to Married-men and Bachelors 

{Additional Notes to the present Volume Eight.') 

England's Pride. (Completion, delayed from p. 18.) 
Looking-Glass for a Bad-Husband ; or, A Caveat for : 

Spendthrift. By Thomas Lanfiere 
The Broken Contract ; or, The Betrayed Virgin's Complaint 
The Fantastical Prodigal (with the Second Tart) 

" Cupid, as you shall understand." (Completion.) . 

To the Guilty Bishops, 1710 

On the present Debates about Religion 

Masham Displayed, 1706 (quoted) 
A New Song on the Jacobite Junto . 
A Halter for Rebels ; or, The Jacobites' Downfall . 
The Embassy (of Duke Hamilton to Pluto's Court) . 
A New Protestant Litany, 1712 

The Raree-Show, lately brought from the Isle of Moderation 
The Second Part of the Baree-Show 
A later account of the Baree-Show, 1716 

The State-Ministers are come. (Quoted.) . 

The Seven Wise Men : Harley and St. John ballads, quoted 

The Vagabond Tories. (Quoted.) 

Song on Dr. Dodd. (Another Version.) 

Mary Queen of Scots at Holyrood. By J. G. Lockhart 
Psalm XIX. By William Slaty er, 1642 . 

The Loving Ballad of Lord Bateman. (Variations noted.) 

Recovery of Lost Ballads. (See also Introduction.) 845, 846 
The Gentleman's Song in Dispraise of his Mistress. By 
Rich. Climsall ..... 

"New Reformation begins thro' the Nation." By D'Urfey 

Tom D'Urfey and Jerry Collier . 

The Handsome Woman : Lincolnshire Ditty : traditional 

The Little Gipsy Girl. Ditto . 

Note on the supposed Author of ' The Children iu the Wood ' 

Aldibarontiphoscophornio . . . . 

The Young-Man's Bambles ; or, The Bachelor's Shifts 

Laugh and Lie Down 

A Dialogue on banks of the Keldar 

Two Kisses ..... 

Kissing goes by Favour : The Kiss of a Seaman. (Quoted.) 
The Old Man kill'd with a Cough . 
The Discontented Plougbman 

The Longing Shepherdess (completed) : Laddy, lie near me 
The Scornful Maid and the Constant Young Man 

The Young-Man's Careless Wooing. (Nearly complete.) 

Bartholomew Fair. By Hcury Carey 



, etc. 




I wish I were where Helen Lies : ' Helen of Kirkconnell ' 
Choice of a Noose : Wiving or Hanging. By Michael Banim 
Recovery of lost lines, ' Two Inseparable Brothers ' 
Nuptial Sleep. By D. G. Rossetti 
Remainder of J. TVs " Alace ! that samyn sweit face " 
The Ballad Society's " Ten Black-letter ballad vols.," etc. 

A Gossip at Deptt'ord ou Sara Pepys, 1684 . 



6>rj^ ) 6^» 

List of Accredited Authors .... 
Ballad-Index to Yol. VIII : 361 distinct ballads reprinted 
General Introduction to last Five Vols, of Roxb. Ballads 



['T%e Long-Nosed Lass ' belongs to pp. 28, bOl ; 2nd, the l Oood Fellow's Counsel,' to vol. vi, p. 501. 

" She walks in beauty, like the night 
Of cloudless climes and starry skies, 
And all that 's best of dark and blight 

Meet in her aspect and her eyes. 
Thus mellowed to that tender " bite, 
" Which heaven to" Israelite "denies." 
— Hebrew Melody, appropriate. 

" Thoughtless of beauty, she was Beauty's self, 
Recluse among the cloee embowering woods, 
As in the hollow breast of Apennine, 
Beneath the shelter of encircling hills." 

— ' The lovely young Lavinia ' in her 
Autumn Season, 1730. By the 
earlier James Thomson. 


C&e Jl3eto=mat>c ^entlctooman. 

" Since Women they are grown so bad, I 'le lead a single life ; 
Not one in ten there 's to be had will make a careful wife : 
Therefore I think 'tis best lor me single for to remain : 
J' or some are bound and would be free ; but wishes are in vain." 

The Politic Countryman : tune of, Hey boys, up go we. 

rriHE objectionable sisterhood of courtesans was a fleet of ill- 
JL omened barques, voyaging disastrously. They differed in 
tonnage and in spread of sail. To deceive the unwary they would 
hoist false colours and tender fraudulent bills of lading. But they 
invariably drifted towards fatal quicksands. One Lightskirts was 
easily confounded with another, having so much shamelessness in 
common. As it had been with the dogs of Fin gal, so was it found 
to be with the sluts : " Mur e Bran, is e a bhrathair /" = * If it be not 
Bran, it is Bran's brother ! ' Resemblance, not identity, connected 
the Hyde-Park damosel, who was met " one evening a little before 
it was dark " (see vol. vi, p. 496), with the present ' New-made 
Gentlewoman,' who no less became " a frigate that sail'd towards 
the Park." One of her gallants, perhaps the Tantiviteer who 
escaped from her clutches betimes, lampooned her in a ditty. It 
was written by L. White, probably Leonard White. 

In the preceding volume of these Roxburghe Ballads (vii, pp. 376, 
379), are ' The Knight and the Beggar- wench,' also ' The Merchant's 
Son and the Beggar-wench of Hull' : ' light gear, ' of lowly station 
and tattered garments. Of loftier pretensions was the ' German 
Princess,' Mary Carleton {ibid., pp. 63 to 66). She was a courtly 
and accomplished adventuress, more attractive and more dangerous, 
born at Canterbury on 22nd January, 1642, the daughter of a 
cathedral chorister. We give, on p. 562, our picture of the Venetian 
courtesan Margarita Emiliana, whom Tom Coryat met in his pere- 
grinations. Decker has shown Bellafront, both in her ostentatious 
wastefulness and in her repentance. Similarly, Thomas Cranley, in 
his poem of Amanda,'' gave an elaborate description, from which in 
our ' Amanda Group of Bagford Poems ' we drew many illustrations. 
With Ancient Pistol, it may still be asked, " Have we not Hyren 
here ? " — namely, the ' fair Greek ' who attained celebrity like 
others of her class and clime, Lais, Phryne, and the ' lovely 
Thais ' who sat beside Alexander at his feast. In every community, 
more or less disguised, but equally pestilential in their seductions, 
the ' Doll Tear-sheets ' plunderers of the hour flourished. Their 
roll-call was given (on pp 423, 424, ante), in the ballad attributed 
to Samuel Butler, ' King Edward and Jane Shore.' Unblushingly 
one displays herself in the ' New Woman,' the plague spot of current 
literature and drama, in feverish days of moral anarchy — the 
' Woman with a Past,' and no Future worth mentioning. 

VOL. VIII. 2 o 


[Roxburghe Collection, II, 380 ; Lindesiana, 243.] 

©r, %fy SDi0fioitf0t ilaDp. 

"Written as true, as she did relate, 
How Money made her every Rascal's mate ; 
Likewise, she says, she 's gathered riches' store 
By only playing of the private [sc]ore : 

And now in[to] the country she [ha]s gone, 

And left me behind to sing this song. 

To a New Tune, or, [Alt] the Flatteries of Fate. [See vol. vi, p. 292. 

j.w. E. 

[Tom Coryat, and " some Jay of Italy'''' (' Cymbeline,' iii, 4) ; 
viz. ' Margarita Emiliana, bella Cortesana cli Venezia.'] 

COme, Gallants, and listen unto me a while, 
I'le sing you a song, that will make you smile, 
Of one that is pritty, in London fair City, 
And Gentlemen's humours she can beguile. 

" My parents," quoth she, "ha[ve] left me forlorn, 
And told me how 1 was begot in a Barn ; 
But, since I am [known] to elder years grown, 
To be told of my parents I hold it in scorn. 

" The New-made Gentle-woman." 5G3 

" I got a few cloathTeJs, and to London I came, 
Where quickly my beauty did get me a name ; 
I tell you the truth, although you me blame, 
I now am become a Girl of the Game. 

" The first that came to me he was a Foot-boy, 
And he gave me a "Crown for to call him my Joy ; 
I lov'd him, and joy'd him, and honey'd him so, 
That it cost him an Angel before he did go. [ gold coin = as. io«. 

" A Lawyer's Clerk was the next that did come, 
And made me believe that he was a Lord's son ; 
I pleas'd his mind, when I found out his play, 
That it cost him a pound before he went away. 

" And many more to me did straitways resort, 
With gold and with silver my person to court ; 
That riches I gather'd by using this trade : 
After forty had [kisjsed me, I went for a maid. 

" With silks and with satins now bravely I go, 
And waiting-maids on me attend, you must know ; 
My Justico and Black-Patches I weare, r- ; P j U st-au-corps, 

Which make all admire that on me doth stare. L ac ' ose J acket - 

" Brave Gallants, I promise you, doth me adore, 
Not taking me to be a vampified w . . . . ; 
They '11 give me a Guinny, if on them I smile, 
And two [more I J take up : thus I them beguile. 

"My smock it is cambrick, I tell you the truth, 
And handled by many a prodigal youth ; 
I have a fine spring[ald] that runneth so clear, 
That it brings me as good as two hundred a year. 

" Now I have got Treasure, no longer I 'le stay, 
But into the Country strait I will away ; 
Where one of my lovers hath done me much wrong, 
For in a week's time he did send me this song." 

Wqz (Sentlcmatt'g Sanrf, that fte sent ijts Eatiu tn tljc (Eountiu 

' "ll/TY Lady is grown so bonny and gay, 
JjJ_ She 's gone from the City, in the country to play. 
And by her great fame she 's got such a name, 
With singing and dancing it makes her go lame. 

' She plaid in the City almost half a year, 
And yet for her wages she's never the near' ; 
But a Gallant did say, " This part you must play ! " 
'Tis thought in some corner that he [will make hjay. 

564 " The New-made Qmtle-woman" 

1 1 steering my co[urse] one night, in the dark, \text, coast. 
I met with a Frigot, that sail'd towards the Park ; 
She hoisted up sail, and away she did run, 
I see her cast anchor at the Prince in the Sun. [Note. 

' I gave her a Guinny to [prove I could court ;] 
She presently yielded, to come to the sport ; 
But, finding me lazie, strait bid me begone ! 
I gave her short [prayer], but she [scorn'd] my [moan]. 

' And thus I was conquer'd, and forc'd to retire, 
For she gave me [no thanks, and she baulk' d] my desire : 
She makes me go [thinking,] with [such addled] eggs, 
[I never again will count chickens, 'yfegs !] 

' But now [since] her beauty is almost decay'd, 
Which makes her to paint, for to hold up that trade ; 
With false locks find vizard-masks she has great skill, 
But she 's known for a w , let her go where she will.' 

By L. White. 
[Printed for F. Coles, T. Vere, J. Wright, and /. Clarice.'] 

[Black-letter. Roxb. colophon lost, but supplied from another exemplar. Three 
cuts : 1st is the couple ou p. 138 ; 2nd, a circle holding a heart ; 3rd, a circle 
with a clasped Bible, emblematical. Date, shown by tune, circa 1671.] 
Note. — Compare the account of 'The City Caper,' a ballad circa 1673, and 

with a similar allegory, in the ' Amanda Group of Bagford Poems,' p. *515 — 

"The Jenny, a small P ; ckaroon in the Parle, 
Last night went a cruising abroad in the dark." 

Whether the hostel here named the Prince in the Sun was identical with that 
called ' The Prince 7 in Sackville Street, or was a title corrupted from the Knight 
of the Sun, a hero of old romance before 1579 (mentioned in vol. vi, pp. 325, 379), 
need not be debated. To engage in action such a " Pinnace rigg'd with silken 
sails," known to be a fire-ship, was perilous. Wise mariners gave them a wide 
berth, and would sheer off, loosening every stitch of canvas to the wind, without 
firing a gun. They would soon be halt -seas over. At least, this is the 
ecclesiastical record, furnished by some earlier Bishops of Winchester (part of 
whose property consisted of what the clown in Measure for Measure, i, 2, called 
" all houses in the suburbs," including ' Holland's Leaguer,' which is pictured 
in the 'Amanda Group of Bagford Poems,' p. 508*). They drew their income 
from the 'Winchester Geese' of Southwark. N.B., the unique ballad of 
' Holland's Leaguer ' is historical, on the Dutch alliance, and has nothing to 
do with the moated grange bearing the same name, ou the Bankside in London. 

The tune of The New-made Gentle-ivoman is cited for a ballad entitled ' The 
Subtile Damosel ; or, Good Counsell for Maids.' (In Brooksby's edition, perhaps 
earlier, it is marked ' to the tune of, The Foolish Husband . , ) The motto-verse 
outlines the story. ' The subtile Damosel ' proclaims the defects of her suitors, 
one by one : Dick, Harry, Robin, and Will, " have shown themselves to be 
clowns, an so they'll be still." Peter was best at dancing, and John at a kiss; 
but they are dissemblers, and love a wench in a corner. Bob has the worst fault, 
since he " can't kiss her, but he will tell." John Wade is the avowed author. 
Although outside of the Roxburghe Collection, it is worth reprinting. 


[Trowbesh Coll., Black 4to, I, 241 ; Hutb, II, 97; Jersey, I, 277=Lind., 602.] 

Subtile Damosel; or, <£ooD Cciimscil for s@aitJ.s- 

Wherein she shews to every Maiden fair, 

To take heed of false young men, wherever they are : 

For Frummety Dick doth love well the kettle, [= Furmety. 

And Porridge-pot Will is a man of great mettle. 

To the Tune of, The New-made Gentle-woman. [See p. 562.] 

I Once had a servant, as other Maids have, 
That pretended to love me ; but he prov'd a knave : 
He thought by his tricks to overcome me, 
But I was as cunning and crafty as he. 

His tongue was so tipt with temptations that I 
Out of his presence or sight could not lie ; 
He call'd me his honey, his duck, and his dear ! 
But now his words to me he doth them forswear. 

Now I am free from him, I 'm glad in my heart, [text, But n. 

It 's never be said I will mourn when we part ; 
But unto all maids, now, the truth I will show, 
To take heed of false young-men wherever they go. 

I' th' first place, take heed, and beware what I say, 
For when you are bound they '11 force you to obey : [Of. vii, 429. 

Ne'er trust a man that hath a red Nose ; 
Before he '11 want his liquor, he '11 pawn your best cloathes. 

There 's Dick came, and Harry, both Robin and Will, 
Have shew'd themselves clowns, and so they '11 be still: 
For Peter at dancing he put them all down, 
But John kist the best of all men in the Town. 

But though I did promise him, and count him the best, 
Yet he can dissemble as well as the rest : 
From eighteen to thirty these young men, I mind, 
Loves a wench in a corner, if they can them hud. 

For this I 'm resolved, and so I say still 
There 's not one amongst twenty but he doth prove 111 ; 
Search every City and Town, you sha' n't see 
A man that proves constant, and faithful' to be. 

Though Johns's] of good mettle, and counted so civil, 
At a Frummety kettle he '11 fight with the Devil ; [ = Furmety. 

Or at long spoon and custard he 's a right houest man ; 
But I have forsook him, then, love him who can ! 

There 's Bob, a good fellow, to give him his due, 
Such a young man again I think there is but. few ; 
Yet with one disease he is troubled, I smell — 
If he meet with a wench he can't kiss her but tell. 

Also came the Taylor, and the Weaver, I discern ; 
The one is in shreds, the other 's for yarn : 
These two boon companions work hard, I do see, 
And they'r[e] striving which of them the best Thief will be. 

5G6 The Subtle Damosel : Good Counsel for Maids. 

Last Valentine's day I met with my Dear : 
He took me by the hand, and lead me to the Fair ; 
He gave me fine fairings, to kiss me was bold ; [Cf. vi. 110. 

But at last I do give him the dog for to hold. 

His eloquent speeches could do him no good ; 
I can give him fair words, and then leave i' th' wood : 
He talk'd of deep learning, but I did bim tell 
That he went to school in some bottomless well. 

The world now-a-daies, it is come to that pass, 
Tbat every Boy now doth look for a Lass : 
There's Bacon-fac'd Harry, as short as my thumb, 
All [he]a[d] and no body, ' Sing come pudding, come ! ' 

These young men, and more of them which I could name, 
To wrong pretty Maidens they think it no shame ; 
But what should we speak on 't ? it oft has been tried, 
That " honest young men they cannot abide ! " 

Thus, Maids, have I told you some part of my mind, 
How 'tis very hard a good Husband to find. 
Though my Love hath left me, to grieve 1 ne'er sball ; 
If the rest prove no better, Old Nick take them all. 

jjfinfe. B y John Wade - 

London, Printed for Richard LTardi/, at the Horse-s\Ji\oe, in West Smithjield. 

[Black-letter. One woodcut, not copied, a woman standing at the angle of a 
table. Date, circd 1681. An edition printed for P. Brooksby, Lind., 603, 
of earlier date, but inferior workmanship, has two cuts, viz. the woman and 
man : both in vol. iv, p. 353. The Lind. tune is named The Foolish Husband.'] 

In many ballads describing ' decayed gentlewomen ' or ' ladies of 
pleasure,' the dupe and victim is some cajoled and plundered man, 
who is ridiculed. The light-ware ' pinnace rigged with silken 
sails' escapes. Yet even with them it was not always May. 
As a contrast to the usual success of a ' Crafty Miss ' we give in 
extenso the Roxburghe ditty that was summarized briefly on p. 437. 

[Roxburghe Collection, III, 435; Trowbesh and Madden.] 

&he 2Ear's jjraltc; or, British Sailor. 

Give ear, brother Seamen, and listen a while ;H 
I '11 sing you a ditty that will make you smile : 
It is concerning a frolic, as I '11 to you tell ; 
As fortune would have it, 'twas very well. 

My discharge I have got, and have gold in store, 
And soon I will tell you how I added to it more : 
I, being drunk, to an Ale-house went in ; 
To dance and to caper I then did begin. 

Some doxies being there seem'd quite full of glee : 
Thinks I to myself, " There 's one of tln-m for me!" 
One being well rigged in a fine long silk gown, 
I tipp'd her the wink, and she by me sat down. 

The Tar's Frolic; or, British Sailor. 567 

I called for the Waiter some liquor to bring ; 
Said the doxy unto me, " That is just the thing ! 
Besides, for my Jack, I '11 a lodging provide ; 
And I '11 be the girl that shall be by your side." 

All things being agreed between doxy and I, 
I call'd for the Waiter to know " What 's to pay ? " 
" Fifteen shillings and sixpence," the Waiter reply 'd : 
I paid down the money, and upstairs we hied. 

I quickly unrigged, and jumped into bed ; 
I planted my shot-locher under my head: 
When my doxy and I bid each other good night, 
I shamm'd fast asleep, and she thought herself right. 

Upright in bed then my doxy arose, 

In searching about to find out my cloathes ; 

And quickly after I knew her design, 

For all her whole search was to find out my coin. 

I jump'd out of bed, and well laid on her [dr]um 

With a stick I had by me, as thick as my thumb : 

The smock she had on like ribbons it flew ; 

She cried ten thousand "murders ! " and "What shall I do ?" 

She danced round the room, and I follow'd my blows ; 
I gave her no time to put on her clothes : 
She opened the door, and down stairs she run ; 
I fasten'd it after, and laughed at the fun. 

I search'd round the room, to see wbat I could find, 
And Moll in the fray left her pockets behind, 
With ten guineas in them, and two five pound notes ; 
Moll left this behind, with her gown and her cotes. 

This being all over, the morning drew nigh, 
And light through a window I happen'd to spy : 
I ty'd up the treasure, and all I had found — 
The money, the petticoats, stockings, and gown. 

Now to conclude and finish the Song, 

Three guineas I made of coat, stockings, and gown : 

So we'll laugh at the frolic, and drink the health round, 

And wish each brother Seaman the same in town. 

Sold by T. Evans, 79, Long-Lane, [Smit/ifield. White-letter. One cut.] 

This ' Tar's Frolic ' was held to be a lawful reprisal. ' Bog toill 
not eat dog ' is as untrue a proverb as ' There is honour among thieves' 

' Two excellent Songs ' in white-letter (Roxb. Coll., Ill, 386), 
include the loose piece of scurrility entitled "The Rakes of Stony- 
Batter," beginning, " Come, all you roving blades, that ramble 
thro' the city, Kissing pretty maids : listen to my ditty!" The 
chorus is, " Hey for Bobbin Joan! They for Stony- Batter /" etc. 
(vide p. 185 ante). The second, here given, follows the general 
rule of warning against plunderers who are " Waiting for Jack." 


[Roxburghe Collection, III, 386.] 

E\)t KoIIg Sailor. 

YOu jolly young Sailors, tbat loves to delight 
111 w[ench]ing and drinking, both day and night. 
Come listen to me, and to you I '11 unfold 
As merry a joke as ever was told. 

Poor Jack in the town, as I heard them say, 
Got very much drnuk the other day ; 
And so, for his phasure, as he thought, to crown, 
He must ramble to nick up a w[ench] in town. 

Poor Jack he was travelling in T)rury-Lane, 
At length to a painted [Miss] he came ; 
She, finding him drunk and willing for sport, 
Led him to a house, Boys, in Middlesex-Court. 

This impudent w[ench] for brandy did call ; 
But alas ! poor Jack, he must pay fur it all ; 
For he fell fast asleep in the arms [that ne 're shrunk], 
And he fell on the ground, being dead drunk. 

She finding him drunk and not like to awake, 
His watch and his money she from him did take ; 
Sue stript him [half] naked, and put him to bed, 
And laid his face close to a [loaf of stale bread]. 

The w[ench] fled in haste, without bidding good-bye, 
Knowing well the old saying, " Let sleeping dogs lie I " 
Poo-- Jucky did lie in a poor lousy bed, 
Nothing to embrace but a [stale loaf of bread]. 

When he awake'd, and found this surprize 
He jumped out of bed, to his neighbours he cries — 
" My watch, my money and clothes, they are gone ! 
The [baggage] is fled: I have no more to put on." 

With an old lousy blanket, that lay on the bed, 
He wrapt it about him to cover his head : 
Down into Wapping away he did go ; 
With his blanket about him, he cast a fine show. JFlrUS. 

There was little to choose between the perils of Drury-Lane and of Wapping — 
no more than betwixt Scylla and Charybdis ; betwixt the devil and the deep 
sea; between the gallows and such commutation of sentence as Lucio deplored, 
in Measure for Measure : " marrying a punk is pressing to death, whipping and 
hanging." This was retribution in Vienna. Compare Browning's Glove — 

" The wife smiled — ' His nerves are grown firmer ; 
Mine he brings now, and utters no murmur ? ' " 

The character of the neighbourhood is attested by the exploit of the ' Five 
Women Barbers of Drury Lane ' (one being the mother of Anne Clarges, George 
Monk's wife, in 1654, afterwards Duchess of Albemarle). John Taylor described 
it in 1638. John Aubrey (born 1626) says that " it was the first ballad I ever 
cared for the reading of : the burden of it ends thus : 

Did you ever heare the like, or ever heard the same, 
Of Jive woernen- barbers, that lived in Drury-Lane . ? " 

(MS. Aub. 6, fol. 17, Life of General Monk : but not 
printed in the ''Letters of Emin. Tersons,' p. 452, 1813.) 

Bridewell Whippings of the ' Doll TearsheeW tribe. 5G9 

Retribution awaited the Doll-Tearsheets tribe, such as those who 
plundered ' The Jolly Sailor ' but who met their match in the 
unscrupulous ' Tar's Frolic' 

We have elsewhere (in Bagford Ballads, Amanda Group, p. 494*) quoted 
Tom Brown's account of their Bridewell whippings, and explained the meaning 
of their agonized cry, " Knock, good Sir William, knock! " as a signal to stop 
the scourging. In John Aubrey's rough draft of his Comedy, ' The Country 
Bevel ' (MS. Aub. 21), of which the scene assumes to be laid at Aldford in 
Cheshire, by the river Dee, S. Peter's Day, 1669, "Christian Malford Green," 
Justice Wagstaffe ['a copy of one Sir John Dunstable'] converses with a 
Sowgelder, who, seeing the country wenches at the Wake, says of them — 

" We doe observe in grazeing the good signes of a milch cowe, to have a soft 
flanke and large udder, tickleish, and a quick eie. The same rule holds for 
these revel-heifers here." 

Justice Wagstaffe. — " If ye talke of skinnes, the best judgment to be made 
of the finenesse of skinnes is at the whipping-post by the stripes. Ah ! 
'tis the best lechery to see 'em suffer correction. Your London Aldermen 
take great lechery to see the poor wretches whipt at the Court of 
Brideavell. Old Justice Hooke gave [twopence] per lash to wenches ; 
as also my old friend George Pott, Esq.; — vide ' Animadversions 
Philosophical^ on that ugly kind of pleasure and of crueltie : ' were it not 
for the law, were no living — * Some would take delight in killing men.' " 

Justice Wagstaffe sings — 

" But give me a buxome Country Lasse, 
Hot pipeing from the cowe, 
She'll take a touch upon the grasse: 

I ! marry ! and thank you too,'''' etc. \Cf. vol. vii. p. 429. 

" Her breath is as sweet as th' rose in June, 
Her skin is as softe as silke, 
And if you tickle her in the [right tune] 
She'll freely [quit meadows and] milke." 

Note* — Aubrey elsewhere cites fhis as an apophthegm of Thomas Hobbes. 
To the llev. Andrew Clarke, M.A., we owe best thanks for trauscripts of MSS. 


€&e Skilful Doctor of ^loucestecsfnce. 

N this ballad an Unfaithful Husband, who has been tilling 
ground that is neither his own proper freehold nor held on 
lease, finds himself in what is proverbially called a tight place. 
" The Skilful Doctor " is paid for advice, instead of for medicine. 
Like ' Simple Simon ' (of p. 428), the farmer's only ' physick ' to 
swallow daily is a bottle of Sack or Sherris. He is cossetted and 
possetted by his unsuspecting wife, who trusts him beyond his deserts. 
This bountiful treatment is purchased by his pretence of suffering 
the premonitory pains and anxieties of maternity. The story is 
coarse enough to have suited such an amusing vaurien as Straparola. 


[Roxburghe Coll., Ill, 206; Pepys, I, 530; Jersey, II, 320=Lind., 288; 

Douce, II, 199 vo.] 

Cfie 3£utful Doctor of tfMoucesters&itc; 

©r, a Nefo SMarj ta take Pfjgstcfc. 

This Ditty doth concern a Country Farmer, 

Who [had a fair] Maid, not thinking to harm her ; 

But she, poor wench, was by her master 'vil'd, 

First tempt' to sin, and after got with child : 

But by the Doctor's skill, her honest Dame 

Excus'd her Husband, and sav'd her Maid from blame. 

The Doctor he hath medicines in store, 

To cure all sorts of follies, both rich and poor. 

The Tune is, Beefs-making. [ — Woman' 1 s Work. See pp. 259 and 572.] 

A Country Farmer, as 'tis said, that had a pretty, handsome Maid, 
Asked her a question secretly, to which she answered, " By and by " ; 
And being kindly reconcil'd, the Farmer got his maid [begu]il'd. 

And after he had done the deed, his heart, poor man, did almost bleed, 
With inward grief and trembling fear, doubting his wife should of it hear ; 
The maid did likewise sigh and groan, and to her Master oft made moan. 

Wherefore, all dangers to prevent, unto a poor young man he went, 
Saying, ten pounds he would him give, and be a friend while he did live, 
" So thou wilt finish up my strife, and take my maid to be thy wife." 

The young man thus to him reply'd : " Your suit to me must be deny'd ; 

For I will neither reap nor mow the bastard seed that you did sow. 

Get a workman where you can " (quoth he), '"for I your hireling will not be." 

The Farmer, being thus deny'd, another practice soon he try'd : 

There was a Doctor, he knew well, that three miles from his house did dwell ; 

Unto the Doctor he told all, that did of late to him befall. 

The Doctor answer'd him, and told : " If you '1 give me ten pounds in gold, 

I 'le teach you such a prttty trick — I am sure you never heard the like — 

To save your maid and you from blame, and your wile shall yield unto the same." 

To this the Farmer soon agreed, and down he laid ten pound with speed ; 

The money pleas'd the Doctor well, who straight his money began to tell : 

" Mark well what I shall say " (quoth he), " and learn this Counsel now of me! 

" With speed run home, and tell your wife that you shall surely lose your life, 
By reason of a grievous pain that in your belly doth remain : 
There is no way but you must die, unless you seek some remedy. 

" Pray her, with all the speed may be, to briug your water unto me ; 

And when she comes, let me alone, I 'le show such skill as ne'r was shown ; 

Such stories I'le to her uufold, the like strange news was never [told], [known. 

" I will persuade her thus, and say : ' Last time that you [etcetera,'] 
The Moon it was eclipsed strange, and Nature did her courses change. 
Mars by Dame Venus was beguil'd, and so your wife got you with child.' " 

This bargain made, brought much content. Home in all haste the Farmer went, 
And told his wife so strauge a tale, as made her countenance look pale : 
"Dear Wife," quoth he, " I am perplext ; never was man before so vext? 

The Skilful Doctor of Gloucestershire. 571 

" I am incumb'red with great pains, from top to toe, through all my veins, 

My back and sides grieve me so sore ; such pains I never felt before ; 

But yet the greatest pain, I tell ye, lies rumbling up and down my belly." 

" Husband," quoth she, " I can you tell, of one that soon can make you well ; 
He cures, as I do understand, all diseases that he takes in hand : 
And if you please to have it so, I 'le to him with your [story] go." 

Next morning, with a good intent, the Good Wife to the Doctor went, 

And shows to him her husband's wat^r. Now mai'k the jest to follow after : 

" Cox-body! " quoth the Doctor mild, " thy Husband surely is with child ! " 

The woman she was much amaz'd, and on the Doctor strangely gaz'd : 
" Good Sir, in kindness now tell me, how such things in a man may be ?" 
" I will," quoth he, " make you no doubt, and time at last will bring all out. 

" When Lima last was in the 'Clips, you with your husband joined lips ; 

Then Jupiter, being wrapt in thunder, turn'd Venus up, while Mars lay under : 

By which conjunction, well I wot, your husband then with child you got." 

" Alas ! alas ! " then said his wife, " is there no means to save his life ? 

I would not, for a thousand pound, my husband he should fall to th' ground." 

*' Faith ! " quoth the Doctor, " there is none, no ways to save his life, but one." 

" Kind, loving sir ! " then answer'd she, " if you will be so good to me, 
To tell how I his life may save, I 'le give whatever you would have : 
No cost nor pains that I will spare, to save his life whom I love so dear." 

" But first," quoth he, "I 'le have you swear, and also have a special care 

To tell no body, whilst you live, what Physick he is to receive." 

She strait way bound it with an oath — " I 'le keep your Counsel, by my troth ! " 

[The Farmer' 1 s wife, frightened at what she heard, ivithottt understanding of 
it one word, now learns from the Doctor ivhat he preferred.^ 

%fyt iPoctor'0 potion of pgpeiiclu 

" Then mark me well what's to be done : each night, about setting of the Sun, 
His Supper then you must provide, of eggs and some choice meat beside ; 
And for to strengthen his weak back, you must give him a Pint of Sack. 

" Which being done, put him to bed, and lay soft pillows under his head ; 
Then make for him a Posset fine, with sugar and sweet Muskadine, 
Commixt with cinnamon and mace, and let him swallow it down apace. 

" When he [has] slept an hour or twain, then you must come to him again, 
And bring with you a lusty maid, \vh[o in the same room] must be laid ; 
So let them merrily s[peak] together, and lovingly embrace each other. 

" This course you must for three weeks take, and then be sure that it will make 
The pain go from his back and side ; the Maid the torment shall abide ; 
And afterward, in little space, she will bring forth a Babe of Grace. 

" And when your Maid is brought a bed, your self must lye down in her stead ; 
And becHuse nothing may be known, folks must believe the Child 's your own. 
Be sure you take this [course]," said he, "and so your Husband heal'd shall be." 

The woman, having heard this news, ran home in haste (how could she chusur), 
Where she did see her husband lie, like one just ready for to dye : 
Then presently she did unfold all that the Doctor had her told. 

572 The Skilful Doctor of Gloucestershire. 

" Alas ! " quoth he, " such pains I have, there is no means my life to save, 
Unless you do a Posset make, to cure my belly of the ake." 
Wherefore the woman out of baud did as the Doctor did command. 

A supper, of most dainty meat, she made him, ready for to eat, 

And because he should no Physick lack, she after supper gave him Sack ; 

Then kept him warm within his bed, aud with sweet Posset she him fed. 

This being done, with Cupid's aid, she got the good will of her Maid, 

To lie with, and keep her master warm, and said he should do her no harm. 

The Maid at first seem'd loath to do, but at the last yielded thereunto. 

And as the Doctor did fore-tell, so every thing in order fell : 

The Maid in time was brought to bed, the good wife lay down in her stead ; 

The man was of his burden eas'd, the child at nurse, and all were pleas'd. 

Tou that these Verses hear, or read, if of the Doctor you stand in need, 
Enquire him out, where he doth dwell, and surely he will use you well : [Of. p. 427. 
He '11 give you Physick to your mind, so that your purses be well lined. 

Printed for F. Coles, T. Vere, and /. Wright. 

[Black-letter. Three cuts : the chief one is double — its first half shows the 
Farmer in bed, his wife bringing the girl, and saying, " Here 's help, 
husband" ; in the other half, the Doctor stands at the table exsmining the 
water-bottle, and exclaiming, " Cox ■-body ! thy husband is with child." 2nd cut 
is the girl with fan, vii, 499 ; 3rd, the half-figure of girl from ' Jack in the 
Box,' vii, 541, centre : the whole figure is shown in vii, 222. Date of issue 
by Vere before 1680. Pepys exemplar was printed for /. Clark, W. Thackeray, 
and T. Passenger; Jersey ex. for W. Thackeray, T. Millet, and A. 
Milbourne. It was No. 56 of Thackeray's List, and frequently reissued. A 
fragmentary duplicate of the second part is Roxb. Coll., I, 480 verso.] 

It was popular, running through several editions, but it is terribly long-wiuded, 
being no less than thirty six-line stanzaf. Space is saved by running two half- 
lines into one. Text reads, "known"; "together lay"; "water" (bis); 
" that followeth after" ; " which to his belly " ; "sleep." 

The tune named Bed? s-making has been annotated on p. 259, and in vol. iii, 
p. 680 : the same tune as on iii, 3u3, Woman's Work. Country Farmers were 
seldom better than the Millers, to whose ' Rogueries ' we turn. Doctors were 
often mocked as quacks and empirics : ex-grat. 

Some Patient, having paid his fees, 
In Church-yard rhyme told his decision : 
" Cured yesterday of my Disease, 
I died to-day— of my Physician." 

Songsters and cynics jested about gallipots, leeches, and drenches. When 
sickness came they learnt the value of a ' Skilful Doctor.' Lord Byron sums up — 

" This is the way Physicians mend or end us, 
Secundum artem ; but although we sneer 
In health — when ill, we call them to attend us, 

Without the least propensity to jeer. 
While that ' hiatus maxime deflendus ' 
To be fill'd up by spade or mattock's near: 
Instead of gliding graciously down Lethe, 
We tease mild Baillie aud soft Abernethy." 

Don Juan, x, 42. 

The Gloucestershire Tragedy, mentioned on p. 183, follows next. 


[Roxburghe Collection, III, 857; Lindesiana, No. 861.] 

C&e aioucestetsirite Cragetip ; ©t, 

(Efje SLoucrs' BofondFall. 

ioljcfointj Ijouj an olti fHt'ser, of a bast !5statr, inoitlo Jjafo fKarrfcb 
rjt's Baugrjtcr to a cobctous, rfdj Bntrjrjt, unjoin sljc roulti not 
lobe ; Sifter JnTjfcTj, ije ronscntco to a paung gentleman to eourt 
f)er ; but as soon as tljcu lucre cngagco to ear!) otfjcr, I)e kept 
^er from fjt'm, hifjcrcupon slje ocnica bhu marriage un'tfjout rjcr 
Jatfjer's Consent : Pjoto fje Potsoncti rjhnsclf, ano aftcrboaros 
Ijfs gljost appcar'o to rjer initfj a buttling &orc|) : Pfobj s{)e Ixias 
poison'o, bjfjtcf) caus'o Jjcr jFatljcr to stab fjimsclf, etc. 

To the Tune of, The Palatine Lovers [Come follow my Love ! see p. 120], 

NEar Go/ford Town, we hear, of late, in Gloucestershire, 
There liv'd a Lady fair, of Beauty bright ; 
Her Father vastly great, in money and estate, 
Which most unfortunate, ruin'd her quite. 

[Two t]housand pounds a year, [her Fatjher had, we hear, [Roxb. torn. 
[There was] no other Heir, [but this] his Lady ; 
Who 'd marry her out-right, unto a Rich old Knight : 
But she the same did slight disdainfully. 

" Father," she often cry'd, " If that I should be ty'd 
To be an Old Man's Bride, how would this prove ? 
If I in Marriage- Band must obey your command, 
Let me, Sir - , have a man, that I can love ! " 

Her Father angry grew, saying, " Daughter, if you 
Will my commands not do, to pleasure me, 
Assured be of this, if that you wed amiss, 
Unto my mind, I dis-inherit thee." 

For some time this past on, and a young Gentleman, 
That lived near at hand, a wooing came ; 
One thousand pounds a year, his father had, we hear, 
And he his only Heir unto the same. 

When to her Father come, his business he made known, 
For whose dear sake alone, he him addrest ; 

" Sir, if you'll give me," he cry'd, " your daughter for my bride, 
Sure no man e'er beside, can be so blest." 

Her Father, cunningly, did make him this reply, 
" Your suit I '11 not deny ; get her in mind," 
But when they 'd fixed their Love, before the Powers above, 
To them he false did prove, as you will find. 

When some few mouths, alas ! in courtship they had past, 
Their hearts were linked fast, in lasting Love. 
Cupid had plaied his part, and sent a flaming dart, 
To wound each others heart, which none could move. 

But see the wretched fate of cruel Father's hate, 
He strove to separate them, you shall hear : 
And would not yield, he said, though he had promised 
This Gentleman should wed his daughter fair. 

574 The Gloucestershire Tinged// ; or, Lovers Downfall. 

" Pray, Sir," he often cry'd, " why must I be deny'd, 
Of this my charming Bride, I so much love ? 
If that unkind you are, to part us loving pair, 
We're ruin'd I declare ; then kinder prove." 

Her Father [then] did say, " Think you young man, I pray, 
That I ivill throw away my daughter so ? 
Her Fortune is too great, for one of your Estate ; 
Therefore stand not to prate. My mind you know.' 1 '' 

Then in great discontent, he to his Lady went, 
And sadly did lament this his hard case. 
Saying, " Bear Lady bright, I'm ruin'd, ruin'd quite. 

Your Father does me slight, and proves most base. 

" He'll not consent," he cry'd, " That you should be my Bride. 
Oh ! what will me betide ? I am undone. 
Now I have fix' d my Love, he most unkind does prove ; 
Fity, ye poivers above, a poor young man ! " 

Then did he sadly weep, grieving and sighing deep, 
And at his lady's feet fell in a swoond : 
This griev'd her to the heart, of love she felt the smart, 
As in the ensuing part will soon be found. 

When thus, this Lady fair beheld her lover dear, 
She us'd her utmost care him to revive ? 
And often, often cry'd, " If I am you deny'd, 
I '11 have no one beside, as I 'm alive." 

Then did the tears apace, run trickling down her face, 
And him did oft embrace, upon the floor. 
" AVretched Father," said she, " Is this your love to me ? 
I shall now ruin'd be for evermore." 

As from his swoon he came, with a deep sigh and groan, 
" He cry'd, " Undone, Undone, my dear am I. 
My Love is just and true, and if I have not you, 
I '11 bid the world adieu Eternally." 

These words she did express, " My Love is nothing less, 
I freely must confess, it is most true. 
But if my Father, he will not to it agree, 
1 cannot marry 'd be, dear Sir, to you." 

" I will most constant prove, no other will I love ; 
Witness ye Gods above, to what is said ! 
But cease for to lament, and strive to be content ; 
For without his consent I will not wed." 

When she these words did speak, he sigh'd as heart would break, 
Saying, " Love, for your sake, ruin'd am I. 
1 '11 say no more than this, give me one parting kiss ; 
Now farewell earthly bliss, Eternally." 

Then from her he did go, with a heart fill'd with woe, 
To work his overthrow resolvedly. 

Some poison strong he took, which quickly did its work ; 
So he this world forsook most wretchedly. 

[QTfje JSccontr ^art. To the Same Tune.] 

When this news to her came, she griev'd much for the same, 
And said he was to blame himself to kill. 
She to her Father ran, and cry'd, " cruel man, 
See, see, what you have done by your ill-will ! " 

The Lover* Downfall. 575 

Like one distracted, she lamented bitterly, 
And said, " My dear, with thee would 1 had dy'd. 
Declare if now I shall, I 'm ruin'd by your fall ; 
I lov'd you more than all the world beside." 

Thus day and night she cry, " My Love, why did you die ? 
And leave me wretchedly behind you here ; 
Oh ! come, dear Ghost, to me, and let me once more see 
That comely face," said she, " I lov'd so dear." 

As she one night did lie, weeping most bitterly, 
She heard a voice 10 cry, " My dear, my dear, 
For your sweet sake I dy'd, who should have been my Bride, 
Behold at your bed's-side, I 'm here, I 'm here." 

At which the Curtain she put back immediately, 
And the pale Ghost did see at her bed's-side ; 
It cloathed was in white, holding a torch so bright ; 
At which most dismal light she shriek'd and cry^d. 

The Ghost then thus did speak, " I died for your sake, 
'Twas love my heart did break most certainly ; 
The morning Cock, I fear, won't let me long stay here ; 
Then if you love me, dearest, follow me." 

The Ghost, a dead-man's skull did hold, with poyson full 
Saying, " Come drink your fill of this black cup, 
'Twill love-sick passions cure, I've drank the same before, 
And so has hundreds more ; then take it up." 

She took it, saying, " Love, by all the Gods above, 
This shall my witness prove I love you well ; 
Now will I go," she said, " and in your grave be laid, 
In sweet Elizium's shades, our Souls shall dwell." 

She instantly arose, surrounded all with woes, 
And with the Ghost she goes down to the gate ; 
Whereat a Coach did stand, with many a Serving-man, 
With torches in their hand, that there did wait. ° 

Being put in the Coach, with her beloved Ghost, 
Most swiftly did they post unto the Grave ; 
To which he straight did hie, and said, " Love here I lie ! 
Then quickly, quickly die, 'tis that I 'd have." 

Vanishing all away, they left her there to stray, 
Till the approaching day, among the tombs ; 
She sadly did lament, her cryes to Heaven sent, 
And said. " Ghost, be content, I '11 come, I '11 come." 

The poyson wrack'd her heart, working in every part, 
Death with his fatal dart the wound had gave, 
In woeful misery, she did expecting lie, 
Each minute for to die, upon his grave. 

As in this State she lay, until the silent Day, 
A young-man pass'd that way, and her did kiiow, 
" Fair Lady, to me tell, what chance has you befell, 
I fear all is not well, that you lie so." 

Then she declar'd what past from first unto the last, 
And said " Young man, make haste, and run with speed 
Unto my Father dear, who have been so severe, 
O bid him quick come here, e're I am dead." 

57G The Gloucestershire Tragedy. 

Her Father came and found her lying on the ground, 
And ready was to swoon at this sad sight, 
She cry'd " Dear Father, I for Love now here must die, 
'Tis your severity has kill'd me quite. 

Death wracks in every place, and stares me in the face ; 
Dear grave, I '11 thee embrace, so lovingly. 
Dear Love, now open wide thy arms for thy dear Bride, 
" I come, I come !" she cry'd, and so did die. 

Her Father grieving sore, hugging her o'er and o'er, 
" Ye Heavens, I implore, let me too die ; " 
Then with a dayger sharp he struck him to the heart, 
Bis life did there depart immediately. 

cruel Death severe ! what dismal sight was here, 
Father and Daughter dear, thus for to die ! 
Their sad and dismal fall, lamented was by all, 
And did for pity call from every, every eye. 

Then home they were convey'd with speed, as it is said, 
And both in state were laid in a Large Hall, 
Which thousands came to see, hearing this Tragedy, 
That might a warning be to Lover's all. 

By all, both rich and poor, they lay lamented o'er, 
About a week or more, in mournful State. 
Many a Lover dear, many a Lady fair, 
In mourning did appear for their sad fate. 

A hearse and six with speed, provided was indeed, 
Many a mournful weed did it attend : 

Their graves were made close by where her true love did lie, 
So of this Tragedy 1 make an end. 

[Three cuts. "White-letter: no colophon in Eoxb. Lindesiana, No. 861, 

in Italic type, is of Bow Church-yar.l, Loudon, and reads incorrectly " Near 

Guildford Town" (which is in Surrey). Lind. is evidently later than Roxb., 

without the descriptive 'Argument' or mention of the tuue, which is that 

of the ballad beginning, "Look, you faithful Lovers," with an often-cited 

burden, Alack ! for my love I must dye. Date uncertain, probably 1696. 

Mentioned on p. 183, it is not a true 'Garland,' but a ballad. Half lines 

are run on here, or it would reach its original length of 236 lines.] 

Distinct from this ballad is the Garland (Roxb. Coll. Ill, 382), not here 

reprinted, ' The Gloucestershire Tragedy ; or, The Unnatural Mother,' 

beginning "Both young and old, I pray, draw near, and tender parents that 

have children dear," etc. (of this are two duplicates at Cambridge TJniv Lib., 

in Madden Coll., II, 346, 347, as mentioned on p. 181, and another in British 

Museum Guard-book, press-mark, 1876) : simply a rhymed-verse tale or 

' Garland ' ; as is also the different version printed at Worcester (Madden Coll., 

II, 345), beginning, " This pattern here I will unfold" ; which holds the same 

double-title. It tells of a murder "at Wells in Gloucestershire," where Mr. 

Gibbs bequeathed his estate of £4,000 a year to his wife and only child, with 

reversion to the mother. He knew not the woman's hateful disposition. Three 

weeks after his death she accepted proposals from another husband. Resolving 

to secure tlie estate, she confined the girl to her room, reported her sickness, 

and stabbed her with a dagger. A ghost appears at the wedding-feast, reveals 

the murder, and accuses ' the Unnatural Mother.' 

--&> — ar&%?T€r 


C6e jfat&cc's ®oot) Counsel to fits ^>on, 

"My Son, these maxims lay to heart, an' lump them ay thegither : 
The Rigid Righteous is a fool, the Rigid Wise anither ; 
The cleanest corn that e'er was dight may hae some pyles o' call in ; 
So ne'er a fellow-creature slight, for random fits o' damn." 

Burns, 1786, free transl. of Eccles. vii, 16. 

I 1ST Roxburghe Collection, III, 661, is a Dialogue-poem, not a 
ballad, and of inordinate lengtb, viz. thirty-five stanzas, 

* £he Parent's Pfaus @tft ; at, & (Wjatce present tat (injtiorcn. 

Set forth in a Dialogue between a Religious Father and an 
Extravagant Son. Containing a Dispute about bad company 
or evil communication, pride, drunkenness, riotous living, 
and all the vanities of a Vicious Course of Life : for which 
the young man earnestly contended, till by the Grace of God 
and the endeavours of his religious Father he was brought 
from the danger of death and destruction to the Hope of 
Life and Immortality. Concluding with the young man's 
Christian courage and conquest over the Tempter, who came 
to disturb him in his private closet, when in tears and 
repenting. It being an excellent Pattern for all young- 
Persons to set before them in these present sinfull Times.' 

FATHER.— 1 ' Tell me, sweet Son, what you intend to do? 
This vicious course of life will bring you to 
Destruction, if you venture to proceed : 
Therefore return, return, my Son, with speed ! " 

SON. — " What need you thus concern yourself with me ? 
Resolv'd I am to take my Liberty. 
Why should I not, since other Gallants do ? 
The world methinks is pleasant to my view." 

Seventeen stanzas follow (nine being the Father's) before the 
Tempter appears, to tell the Son there is no need of fear concerning 
such small vices as he had indulged in. The conclusion is this : — 

" When Satan found he could not make him yield, 
With rage and fury straight he qui's the field ; 
While this Youth through Faith and Patience run, [=Until. 
To finish th« great work he had begun. 

" ' Farewell, farewell, false friends ! ' (quoth he), ' adieu ! 
I have no pleasure or delight in you ; 
The Grace of God is more to me ' (he cried), 

' Thau all the riches in the world beside. 

" ' Bhssed be God, that ever I was reprov'd ; 
Rhssed he my Father, who in kindness mov'd 
His stubborn Son, through force of Argument, 
For this has brought me early to repent ! ' 

This is a GIFT for Parents far and near, 
Present it to their Sons and Daughters dear, 
That by this Youth they may a Pattern take, 
And for the love of God their sins forsake. JintS. 

vol. vm. 2 v 



[Roxburghe Coll., II, p. 166. Apparently unique.] 

C!)e jfafyer's cjooti Counsel 

to W Hasctotous ^on; ©r, 

% flTa&cat against flSHenchmg. 

The Proverb old does tell us all, you know, 

As erowes the old Cock so the young doth crow ; 

The Father doth chastize the Son for sin, 

And quite forgets what vice himself liv'd in. 

The Son reflects — " Pray, Sir, leave off the Game ! 

And I 'le endeavour for to do the same." 

The Old Man hearing this, with shame amends ; 

The Young one does so too, and both are friends. 

Tune of, The delights of the bottle. [Shadwell's, 1675. See vol. iv, p. 44. J 


COme, Son, you are young, yet I oft have been told 
That in wenching and drinking you're desperate bold ; 
In running these courses you lluine will find, 
And troubles create in your old Father's mind. 
Give over betimes, then, before 'tis too late, 
And I He strive for to get you a handsom' young mate. 


What musick is this, which from you I do hear ? 

It tickles my fancy, and pleases my ear : 

Your good admonition I willingly take, 

But first let me see you those follies forsake. 

For 'tis known at this day you 've a wife and a Miss : 
The one is your drudge and the other you kiss. 


But, sirrah, how dare you speak thus to my face ? 
Your sides I will bang, if you do me disgrace : 
Suppose what you say does appear to be true ; 
Yet sure I should not be told on it by you. Give over, etc. 


You know I am young, and perhaps may be wild, 

Which makes it well known that I am your own child : 

You every day to the Tavern do go, 

And at night come home drunk with a neighbour or so. 
And 'tis known at this day you 've a ivife and a Miss : 
The one is your drudge and the other you kiss. 

The Fathers Good Counsel to Jus Son. 579 


Good wine is most proper for us that are old, 
It enlivens and comforts our bloods that are cold; 
And to keep a young Miss I account it no liarni, 
For a young handsome bed-fellow keeps a man warm. 

But, young man, be wise, before His too late. And I'll, etc. 


You say you drink Wine 'cause blood is grown cold, 

And I 'le drink, that by drinking I ne 'r may be old ; 

For he that with Bacchus doth daily engage 

Shall ever be young, and ne'r suffer old age. 

But His known at this day yoti He a wife and a Miss : 
My mother' s your drudge, and the Harlot you kiss. 


You sawcy young rascall, my neighbours can tell 

That of all other women your mother lives well : 

My care and [my] industry ever was such, 

To give her sufficient and never to grudge. But, young man, etc. 


By your favour, good Father, 'tis very well known 

That 'twill ne'r out o' th' flesh when 'tis bred in the bone ; 

Therefore I advise you your labour to save, 

For without your good help many Misses I have. But His, etc. 


Oh impudent villain ! what, dost thou confess 
That thou dost keep Harlots ? and wilt do no less ? 
Come hither, my youngster, [until] thee I [have fell 'd'J, 
Lest my name by thy bas[e-brood] be hereafter upheld. Yet, etc. 


I have told you, kind Sir, I have mates three or four, 

And if I do want, can have more the next hour ; 

Tint if yours don't please you, 1 'le get you another, 

That I Te warrant you far shall out-frolick the other. For, etc. 


But, Son, you mistake me when I speak of a mate ; 

I mean a good wife with a handsome estate : 

Leave off those women, and I 'le do the same, 

For I find they will mine Purse, Person, and Fame. And if, etc. 

580 The Father's Good Counsel to his Son. 


These words may prevaile, if your deeds be the same ; 

But first let me see you forsake the old game : 

Turn off your young wench, to my mother be kind, 

And in your own steps I will walk, you shall find. For now, etc. 


"Well, Son, a lewd woman's a desperate thing, 
And a whore to your person much danger will bring. 
Though it does not become me to tell what I've done, 
Yet I now will reform and advise you my son. 
Now prithee grow wiser before 'tis too late, 
And 1 He strive for to get thee a handsom young mate. 

[In Black-letter. Three woodcuts : 1st, a King Lear, in oval, ii, 396 ; 2nd, 
Little man, vii, 206 ; 3rd, "Woman in hood, p. 458 ante. Colophon lost, and 
no other impression known. Its uniqueness makes it expedient to reproduce 
it entirely, although it be both nauseous and monotonous. Such ' pious 
exhortations' were worthless, owing to their dreary insipidity. They made no 
impression on those who were viciously disposed. Date, 1675. Cf. vol. ii, p. 216.] 

John "Wade and Laurence Price knew how to win attention. 
They did good work by their warnings against improvidence and 
immorality; because they always wrote with spirit, after seeing 
clearly the evils of the day. The only thing to be written in 
commendation of the author of the foregoing ballad is, that he 
withheld his name : probably it was Charles Records, or Richetts. 

There is more humour in the account of his own spendthrift 
habits, and the punishment of imprisonment for debt which they 
entailed (of old, seldom less than a lifelong incarceration), in the 
song quoted on p. 186, 'The Fantastical Prodigal,' beginning, 
" On a time I was great, now little am grown." 

" Those whom you feasted will be your worst foes, if ever you get into Limbo.'''' 
His father had left him £500 a year, his mother left him her jointure, "and 
every acre from mortgage was clear " ; but all went to ruin : " Field after field to 
market I sent ; My lands were mortgaged, the money was spent ; My heart was 
harden'd, it would not relent, Until I got into Limbo.''' He is a Charles 
Surface, but without that delightful scapegrace's dangerous fascination. By his 
own confession the beholders ridiculed him — " There goes Sir Fopling Flutter .' " 

" My time and my money I woefully spent, 
On furbeloed Ladies of Pleasure ; 
The cunning young gypsies would sit and invent 

Which way for to squander my treasure. 
Whatever they asked I would presently get. 
Rich garments or dainties their palates to fit : 
Thus they made a great fool of an absolute Wit ; 
But noiv I have got into Limbo ! " 

In the world's menagerie these animals are not yet extinct. The Dodo and the 
Great Auk have gone ; the Moose, the Buffalo, and the Bird of Paradise, are 
evanishing swiftly ; but the ' New-made Gentlewoman,' the ' Lady of Pleasure,' 
is a Phcenix perennially revived. In the Pitiero game, she is always in stock. 



€!)e Dream of Julias'* a^otfrct jwffluo. 

" When Nero perish' d, by the justest doom 
Which ever the destroyer yet destroyed, 
Amidst the roar of liberated Rome, 

Of nations freed, and the world overjoy'd, 
Some hands unseen strew'd flowers upon his tomb : [vide Suetonius. 

Perhaps the weakness of a heart not void 
Of feeling for some kindness done, when power 
Had left the wretch an uncorrupted hour." 

Don Juan, canto iii, 109. 

AMONG the sectaries of old, many of them ' pious Frauds,' 
professedly religious, the Puritans took delight in reading 
fabulous accounts of Protestant martyrs, and the ghastly fabrications 
of an apocryphal ' Dream of Judas's Mother Fulfilled. ' The 
horrors of (Edipus, Laius, and Jocasta were revived to suit them. 
Perhaps even these were not more outrageous and injurious than 
the crude dissertations, two centuries later, on the character of 
Judas, with attempts to justify his betrayal of the Saviour, on 
pretence of his " patriotic desire to hasten the establishment of 
the Messianic kingdom," by "forcing the hand of Jesus" The 
Wliatelyites considered {Essays on Dangers to Christian Faith, iii) 
that Judas was merely a mistaken enthusiast. They advanced this 
plea in the face of the clear statements of Scripture — " This [Judas] 
said, not that he cared for the poor, but because he was a thief, and 
had the bag " {St. John xii, 6) ; also ignoring what the Lord said 
of Judas, calling him "the son of perdition" {ibid, xvii, 12); 
"Woe unto that man by whom the Son of Man is betrayed! 
it had been good for that man if he had not been born " {St.AIatth. 
xxvi, 24); "Have I not chosen you Twelve, and one of you 
is a devil ? " {St. John vi, 70). 

Tiberius has found his advocates, and on the tomb of Nero 
flowers were duly laid by those who had known mercy and 
kindness before his fall. There are demagogues and sceptics who 
glorify the author of the foully offensive ' Age of Peason,' and so 
utterly misunderstand the oppressive tyranny of ' The Power of 
the Sword ' as to belaud the actions of Pym and Cromwell — worse 
traitors to the cause of true liberty than ever the vacillating Charles 
Avas assumed to have been — such men naturally extenuate the 
impious crime of Judas, and would, no doubt, be similarly tempted 
to a betrayal. Thus the Cainites honoured him as the only Apostle 
who was in possession of the true ' Gnosis.' 

Chap-books, assuming to give historical accounts of Judas, were circulated. 
One, printed in London, 178-1, ' The Lost and undone Son of Perdition ; or, The 
Life and Death of Judas Iscariot." 1 Another (with verses 'To the Header,' 
signed T. G ), ' The Birth, Life, and Death of Judas Lscariot,' etc., was 
frequently reprinted in 1793, and earlier, at Birmingham and Glasgow. The 
Durham exemplar has no date. We reproduce the title-page. 


Chap-BooJi Histories of Judas Iscariot. 

The Unhappy Birth, Wicked Life, and miserable Death of that vile 

Tray tor and Apostle 


Who, for Thirty Pieces of Silver betrayed his Lord and Master 



1. — His Mother's Dream after conception; the manner of his Birth; and the 

evident marks of his future Shame. 
2. — How his Parents, inclosing him in a little Chest, threw him into the Sea, 

where he was found by a King on the Coast of Iscariot, who called 

him by that name. 
3. — His advancement to be the King's Privy Counsellor ; and how he 

unfortunately killed the King's Son. 
4. — He flies to Joppa ; and, unknowingly, slew his own Father, for which he 

was obliged to abscond a Second Time. 
5. — Returning a year after, he married his own Mother, who knew him to be 

her own child, by the particular marks he had, and by his own 

6. — And lastly, seeming to repent of his wicked life, he followed our Blessed 

Saviour and became one of his Apostles ; but after[wards] betrayed 

him into the hands of the Chief Priests for Thirty Pieces of Silver, 

and then miserably hanged himself , whose Bowels droptoutof his Body. 

To which is Added, 
A Short Relation of the Sufferings of our Blessed Redeemer ; 

Also the Life and miserable Death of Pontius Pilate, 
"Who condemned the Lord of Lite to Death : 
Being collected from the Writings of Josephus Sozomemts, and other Ecclesiastical 
Historians. Durham : Printed and Sold by Isaac Lane. 

[Woodcuts substituted for the ' Court 
and Country Dance? of broadside.] 


[Roxburghe Collection, III, 737.] 

Cl)e SDream of 3JiiDas' £®otytv 

jFuffilleti : 

EaQdljtx tot'tlj fjfs Sinful 3Ltfc anb ocscrbeo obstruction. 
To the Tune of, Christ is my Love, [he loved me. See p. 579]. 

WHo that antique story reads, and ancient tales of old, 
A notable strange tragedy to you I will unfold ; 
Of that Judas Iscariot, who did our Saviour sell, 
And did betray him with a kiss, to haste himself to hell : 

Which was the last and foulest fact that he did here on earth, 
Yet other three most damnable mine author shewed hath 
It 's thought that Judas did descend of parents well esteem'd, 
But real goodness to pursue seldom or never dream'd. 

But to no purpose for to go, his Mother sleeping lay, [sic. 

And dream'd that she should bear a Son, which should his Father 
And to his mother married be : this she her husband told, [slay, 
But he amaz'd did greatly muse, hearing his wife unfold 

So strange a vision ; and he said (seeing his wife with child), 
" It's best when such a one is born to slay him when a child." 
" but " (says she), " worse is to come, for this was in my dream, 
That the Saviour of all Mankind should be betray'd by him ; 

" And that a king's son he should slay, and when all this is past, 
He from his God should run away, and hang himself at last." 
But being born, they do him lay close by a river side, 
Into a cradle made of segs, thinking he should have died. 

The King had his [own] dwelling near ; the Queen, having no child, 
Quickly took up this infant young, who then was meek and mild ; 
So him adopted for her [son], and sent him to the school, [text, child. 
So soon as he could able be to walk in Reason's rule. 

[Second Column of verse begins.] 
In learning arts he was brought up, and literature most fine ; 
In wisdom and in policy he spent his youthful time. 
At last the Queen a child did bear, which made her to look down 
On Judas, who no better knew but that he was her own. 

But, in a while, Judas began for to correct this child, 
Thinking that he was Prince himself; but he was all beguil'd. 
The Queen began sharply to check Judas, who took it ill, 
And [soon] in furious discontent he doth the young Prince kill. 

To Pontius Pilate then he fled, and service did require, 
Who, seeing him a brave comely man, soon granted his desire. 
And after that his love he gain'd ; but Pilate on a day 
As he was riding thro' the land, [bent] on his sport and play, 

584 The Dream of Judas' Mother Fulfilled. 

A gallant Orchard did behold, and did on Judas call : 

" Go, buy me some of that fair fruit, and send them to my hall ! " 

But being of a greedy heart, he money offer'd none, 

But presently at his own hand to pluck the fruit began. 

The Orchard was his own Father's, though all unknown to him, 
And he with Judas for the fruit to quarrel did begin. 
Judas, being the strongest man, soon forth a weapon drew, 
And, all uuknown['lyJ to them both, his father there he slew. 

This Father's friend did him pursue, and sought his life to have, 
But quickly he to Pilate fled, and he did him receive ; 
And with fair speeches, many a one, the woman did persuade 
To marry Judas (her own son), whom Pilate great had made; 

[Third Column of verse, and last, begins.'] 
And said, " Good "Woman, do not refuse ! my chief minion is he." 
He said : " If I should take his life, what better should you be ? 
Better for you to marry him, than take his life away, 
And here 1 promise for to do to you wdiat good I may." 

But grief to sorrowing her constrain'd, for her husband now dead ; 
But Pilate, who as King then reign'd, did this way her persuade. 
This cursed marriage being made, this couple to their bed, 
Began to talk of sundry things, which passed o'er their head. 

Then unto him her Dream she told, which struck him to the heart 
"When he remember'd what had pass'd ; thus he did from her part. 
Our Saviour then in JudaMs land resorted up and down, 
Preaching, and working miracles, in city, land, and town, 

Our Saviour knew what was in him : yet he did him receive : 
Tho' Christ knew he would him betray, yet him he credit gave. 
The Scripture tells he kept the bag, but car'd not for the Poor ; 
Altho' for coin he Christ betray'd, what needeth progress more? 

His Mother's Dream is now fulfill'd : and he to hell is gone. 
God keep all faithful Christians from being left alone. 
Intreat the Lord that with his Spirit he may direct us all, 
That from the favour of the Lord our Souls may never fall. 

Keep, Lord, that spirit from entering mine which enter'd into him, 
And all things that we take in hand make us at God begin. 
One sin another on doth bring, thus we may clearly see ; 
And heretofore it hath been seen in this sad Tragedy. 

[No colophon. In "White-letter. One large woodcut. Date, circa 1730.] 

*^* The tune named is Christ is my Lore, which we identify with the tune of 
The Bonny Broome, and the Pepysian ballad on p. 586. It is certainly of very 
early date. The choice of the tune indicates that ' The Dream of Judas' 
Mother' may have originally appeared circa 1630; a century before the date 
of the Roxburghe exemplar. None would know " Christ is my love " in 1730. 


[Pepys Collection, I, 41. Apparently unique, but mutilated.] 

CJje Complaint of a dinner, t^w Text. 

[Aided by the suggestive fragments of half-lines, we reconstruct the mutilated 
stanzas 8 and 9/ and, as they evidently allude to St. Luke X.V, we believe the 
totally lost stanzas 3 and 4 must have been anticipatory of them, and similar. 
These, and other lost portions, within square brackets, are conjectural.] 

To the tune of, The Bonny Broome. [See pp. 105, 587.] 

CHRIST is my love, he loved me, when I was a wretch forlorne, 
True God from all eternitie, true man of Virgin borne. 
He piere'd the Heavens, he came to Earth, for me his blood to spill : 
Yet through my sinues I have him lost : woe worth my froward will ! 
The bonny Broome, the ivell-ftvoitr'd Broome, 

The Broome blooms faire on hill : 
Him have I lost that loved me best, 
My love against his will. 

My crooked wayes, my words prophane, my thoughtes to evill 

Hath made this Love to lightly me, and shew him selfe unkinde. 
Tims do I spend my dayes in care, my nights in mourning still, 
For loosing him that lov'd me best, [de]spite my froward will. 
[ The bonny Broome, the well-favour 'd Bro~\ome, etc. [torn off. 

[Thou did'st come from Heaven to Earth, to save us by thy blood, 
And tell of pardon, tho' from birth we had thy love withstood : 
Thou, like the House-wife who on ground lost one coin from her store, 
Dost seek, rejoicing when 'tis found, and saved for evermore. 

The bonny Broome, the well-favour Ul Broome, etc.] [stanza i&st. 

[So, when it strayed in wanton thought, from safety of the fold, 
The wandering sheep the Shepherd sought; his arms did it enfold ; 
The Prodigal, who far had ranged, thou bringest home again, 
His rajjs for wedding-robe exchanged, that joy in heaven may reign. 
The bonny Broome, the ivell-favoured Broome, etc.] [stanza lost. 

Sweet Christ, my love, I must confesse, the cause of all my paine 
Hath beene my own disloyall heart, that would not true remaine, 
Lnt sought for pleasure here below, that soule and body kill, 
And brake my promise made to thee. Alas, my froward will ! 
The bonny Broom, [the well-favour'd Broome,] etc. 

Long have I dwelt in Kedar's tents, and long in lleshech hidden, 
And from thy presence full of joy, my feet have long time slidden. 
Yet on my barren heart, O Lord ! some drops of Grace distill : 
That I may tinde thy love againe, and change my froward will. 
The bonny Broome, [the well-favoured Broome,] etc. 

586 The Complaint of a Sinner. 

Oh, let me sorrow for my sinne, and hate my ruthfull race ; 
Oh, let my silly soule enjoy the favour of thy face : 
Till thou forget thine unkindnesse, and I my mourning still, 
And, with a free reformed heart, renounce my froward will. 
The bonny Broome, etc. 

I am tha]t piece of money lost, [I am tha]t child forlorne, 
I am that wa]nd'ring sheep, Lord, [in briars t]o be torne ; 
0, seek me,] Lord, and find me out ! [bring me thy] fold untill, 
That all thy A]ngels may rejoice, [conform me to thy] will. 

\_The bonny Broo~\me, etc. [Both the final stanzas torn. 

[Owash me, wit]h thy bloody streams, [that from thy w]ounds so wide, 
May flow to cleanse t]hy darling deare ; [and to this cou]rt me guide, 
ThatI may bloom, as the b]lissful Broome, [that bloomes high on] hill, 
Pardon'd for sin, redeem]'d for aie, [conformed to thy] will. 
The Bonny Broom~]e, the ic ell-fat our d Broome, 

[The Broome bloomes fair e on hill : 
\_0h Lord my sinful L]ife amend, 
Accord iny to'] thy will. 


Note. — Immediately preceding: this mutilated ballad of the ' Complaint of a 
Sinner,' that had belonged to John Selden, before he gave it to Samuel Pepys 
(Pepysian Collection, I, 40, 41), is one entitled' The New Broome' [on hill]. 
It was printed for F. Coles, in b.-l., and holds the same phrase, " lightly me." 

[Pepys Collection, I, 40. Apparently unique, and perfect.] 

C&e U3eto iBtoome. 

POore Coridon did sometime sit hard by the Broome alone, 
And secretly com plain' d to it, against his only one ; 
He bids the Broome, that bloomes him by, beare witnessc to his wrong, 
And, thinking that none else was nie, he thus began his song : 
The bonny Broome, the ■well-favour 'd Broome, 

The Broome bloomes faire on hill: 
Wliat ail'd my Love to lightly mee, 
And I working her will. 

If Syrinx, for despising Pan the Shepherds god, was changed, 
Into a Beede, may I not then hope well to be revenged 
On Galatea? whose disdaine for sorrow doth consume 
Poore Coridon, who still complaines, and mournes among the Broome. 
The bonny Broome, etc. [pa 



The New Broome-on-Hill. 587 

If Proud Apollo fell in love with that Penean dame, [Daphne. 
And left his blest abode above, to feede his fleshly flame, 
For pride syne turn'd into a Tree, that death should be her doome ; 
Shall she not sometime sigh for mee, and mourne amongst the Broome? 

For shee hath seene my sighes and teares, and knowes my kinde intent, 
Yet scornes for to regard my cares, and laughs when 1 lament. 
Yet though a looke would send reliefe, to ease my grieved grone, 
First would shee then, to ende my griefe, be buried in the Broome. 

Oh, would shee leave her coy disdaines, which make me dwine and die, 
And pitty him who still complaines, that she so coy should bee, 
Poore Condon would, out of doubt, his wonted joyes resume, 
And sing her praises round about the borders of the Broome. 

But since she still continues coye, and careless of my care, 

I will awake the blinded Boy, my sute for to declare : 

That he, over whom my Mistresse proud so proudly doth presume, 

[May] make her sigh, and sing aloud sad songs about the Broome. 

Else, proud Apollo, I thee pray, to turne her to a Tree : 

Pan, throw thy pleasant pipe away, make her thy Beede to bee. 

In Tree or Beede, when she is chauged, let none of these beare bloome. 

Bear witness, Broome, thou dainty Broome, 
That blooms on hill and dale : 

Since Galatea lightlies mee, I take my long Farewell. 


London: Printed for F. Coles. [In Black-letter. Date, circd 1609.] 

That there had been a still earlier ' Broome, Broome on hill ' is certain. 
Numerous scraps and citations attest this, and it was mentioned in the Complaint 
of Scotland, 1549 ; also in Kobert Laneham's Eenilivorth Letter, 1.075. In 1847 
the ' Broome-on-hiW written by James Maidment (and afterwards avowed to 
be a hoax or forgery), imposed upon the credulous J. M. Gutch. It is in his 
Robin Hood, ii, 368, 1847: Maidment's barefaced imposture, 'The Marriage 
of Robin Hood with Jack Cade's Daughter' {vide pp. 179, 539). 'Sir Hugh 
and the Maiden ' was another clumsy hoax, and probably from the same hand. 

%* It is no small matter, before we complete the Roxburghe Ballads, to have 
here given back to the world each of these valuable extras ; some of which had 
eluded search and lain hidden for two centuries. Others await discovery in 
unexplored nooks ; they not having perished, as the baffled seekers erroneously 
supposed. Even an early Black letter copy of ' Lord Bateman ' and both parte 
of the long-lost ' Barra Faustus's Drtame,' have rewarded us. Also ' The 
Duke's Ii ish,' which we give on p. 592. Murder will out, and so will a ballad, 
but it needs a Dupin, or a Le Coq, to trace it. 


[Roxburghe Collection, III, 784.] 

C&rfct'js lotie to Penitent linnets: 

■Sfjefoinij ftafo ty sfjcTi fji's Bloob gefaen times for our Sins. 

[Tune, probably Aim not too high. Cf. vol. vii, p. 799.] 

YOu mortals all, of high and low degree, 
Draw near a while, and listen unto rne, 
Whilst I unfold these lines which you shall find ; 
They are compos'd to put you fresh in mind, 

Of what our gratious God [for us has done 
In sending of his [own] beloved Son ; 
When thousands on the brink of Ruin lay, 
He sent his Son, their sinful debts to pay. 

Now let 's observe this Prince of Royal Birth 
When at the first he descended on the Earth, 
Was by a Virgin in a manger laid ; 
When Christ was born, his Mother was a Maid. 

This Babe's birth both far and near did ring. 
Which reach' d the ears of Herod, that great king ; 
The angry Monarch, for to stir up strife, 
Was then resolved to take away his life. 

To make sure of the Babe, we understand, 
He sent forth a Decree throughout the land, 
That every Child then born, as he did reign, 
From two years old and under should be slain. 

The Murderers were sent about, their work to do, 
And many a pretty smiling Babe they slew ; 
Cutting their flesh, and breaking of their bones, 
Dashing their tender heads against the stones. 

Young harmless Babes they from the breast did take, 
And havock of their crimson blood did make ; 
Regarding not their parents' grief and wo[e], 
Who sighed to see their children murdered so. 

You [thus] have learned the Scripture for to read, 
Rachel refused to be comforted ; 
Because among the rest grief was her lot, 
She sighed and mourn' d because her Babe was not. 

Thro' Herod's wrath this Murder it was done, 
Thousands were slain to make [him] sure ot one ; 
But God, who knows the hearts and thoughts of men, 
Preserv'd his Son from Herod's cruel hand. 

Joseph, as he lay sleeping in the night. 
By Dreams was warned for to take his flight, 
And take the [blessed] Babe to Egypt, where 
The Child thro' Mary was preserved there. 

Tho' he escaped that time in Egypt land, 
Pray yet observe, and you shall understand, 
This Babe [who] was born for our sinful crimes, 
Did shed his Blood for us seven several times. 

Christ's Love to Penitent Sinners. 589 

The first time he shed his Blood for us, behold, 
When he was circumcised at eight days old. 
The Second time, as we have often heard, 
Was when the Jews with pinchers pull'd his heard 

Out by the roots ; which made me for to think 
Blood must appear, and make this Lamb to shrink. 
The Third time that his blood in streams did run, 
Was when the Jews did scourge him through the town. 

The Fourth time [it was] in the Garden, where 
He in his Agony did suffer there ; 
For by the Scriptures it is so understood, 
With grief of soul he sweat great drops of Blood. 

The Fifth time [when] his blood for us was shed, 
It was when they with Thorns crowned his Head ; 
For it needs must make us [to] think indeed, 
To wear the prickling Thorns his Head must bleed. 

The Sixth time [then] he shed his Blood most sweet, 
When to the Cross, they nail'd him hand[s] and feet ; 
And [when], like monsters, their Prince for to abuse, 
Over his Head they writ, "King of the Jews ! " 

Nay, more than that, tho' Prince and Lord of all, 
They made him drink sharp vinegar and gall ; 
And to degrade him, as we understand, 
They placed two Thieves by him, one on each hand. 

This done, one of the Thieves [to him] said thus, 
" If thou be Christ, now save thyself and us ! " 

To hear these words, the other did reply, 
" Thou wretch ! it is for Justice we must die ; 

" But as for this good Man, no ill hath done : 
What makes thou thus revile this blessed One ? 
Thou Son of God " (this Penitent did say), 
" In thy Father's Kingdom remember me, I pray." 

Of this Thief's saying Christ great notice took, 
And to him then, with a merciful look, 
Christ cast an eye, and said, " Thou shalt be 
This very day in Paradise with me." 

The Seventh time, for to augment his Pain, 
With a sharp Spear they pierced his side amain ; 
Great was the stream of blood [that gushed down] : 
They pierc'd his side so deep they made him groan. [Note, p. 590. 

Out of his side from his dear heart ran down 
Great streams of crimson blood upon the ground ; 
Dear Blessed Lord ! how was you then abus'd, 
By bloody Jews, who did no conscience use. 

Then on that Day this blessed One was forced, 
With a deep groan he yielded up the Ghost. 
And at that Dissolution then, was there 
Upon the Earth, great Darkness did appear. 

590 Christ's Lore to Penitent Sinners. 

The Earth did tremble; the sun witheld its light ; 
The rocks around each other now did smite ; 
The hills did tremble for a little space ; 
The lofty mountains moved from the place. 

The Graves did open, and many Dead arose 
To see this sight ; many of his cruel foes, 
Admonish'd, said, " These things look very odd ! 
Surely this man was the Son of God." 

Then in a new Sepulcher Christ was lain, 
Wherein three days and nights he did remain ; 
And when he arose, we hear, [even] in Hell 
The Devil trembled, and with rage did swell. 

Tho' in Death's chains Christ was forced to lie, 
In God's true time he made those fetters fly : 
Death never was balk'd since, nor [yet] before : 
Christ's Resurrection made the Devils roar. 

The first time Christ was [living] upon the Earth, 
He persecuted was unto his death ; 
'Twas for our Sins he suffer'd thus indeed : 
To think on this, what heart can cease to bleed ? 

Too many of us do act forbidden things, 
And daily do crucify the King of Kings. 
E're it be too late your wickedness give o'er, 
For Christ for us will shed his Blood no more. 

As we must die, and Christ our Judge must be, 
To serve our Maker let us all agree ; 
That Christ may say, that sits upon the Throne, 
" Come, Souls ! I dy'd for you ; you are my own. 


Newcastle-upon-Tyne : Printed and Sold by John White. 

[White-letter. Three woodcuts. Date of this issue, certainly not later than 
1769, but probably it was a reprint of an earlier edition.] 

It is a specimen of the dreary, unintellectual, unpoetical, and even unscriptural 
literature of its day, the earlier half of the eighteenth century. When we 
remember the rubbish which at the present hour passes muster as theology, 
and secures ecclesiastical promotion for the hack-pulpiteers, who produce it 
wholesale, one avoids censuring the paltry attempts to "pervert the prophets 
and purloin the psalms," three half- centuries ago. The intention of the writer 
was commendable, if he had taken the trouble to look at the Gospels, instead of 
misrepresenting events. Thus, the Slaughter of the Innocents, throughout 
a limited and scantily peopled district, probably involved at most a couple 
of score children, certainly not "thousands." The piercing of the Saviour's 
side is mis-stated to have preceded the death, and to have drawn from 
Jesus "a groan." This is a grave error, showing ignorance and inattention. 
To assert that " Death never was balk'd since nor before," is virtually to deny 
the raising of Jairus's daughter ; of the widow's son at Nain ; and of Lazarus 
at Bethany ; with total disregard of the Old Testament times of Elijah, and the 
widow of Zarephath's son recalled to life. No doubts haunted the broadside 
poet concerning the descent into a conventional ' Hell,' and the ' swelling with 
rage ' or ' roaring ' of the devils. He knew the kind of doctrine expected for 
the price, and gave it. We scarcely deem his errors equal to those of certain 
modern freemantled canons, deans, and archdeacons, in the Southern Province. 


[Douce Collection, III, 46, verso.] 

To the Tune of, In Nineveh old Tobit dwelt. [See Note, p. 593.] 

Licensed and Enter'd according to Order. 

WHen Israel did first begin to worship every Heathen God, 
For that abominable Sin the Lord was pleas' d to shake his Rod, 
And sold them to the Amorites, which vex'd them eighteen years full sore, 
Then the distressed Israelites their blessed Lord they did implore ; 
Who answer'd them in Wrath, and said, " I have deliver' d you, you know. 
Time after time, yet have you stray'd, and unto other Gods would go. 
Go cry to them, now in your Need, and let those Gods deliver you ! " 
But Israel with tears did plead that He his favours would renew : 
They all cry'd out with one accord, " We '11 put our Idol Gods away ; 
save us, save us, blessed lord, and let us not become a Prey ! " 

To him they lifted up their eyes, as they within his Presence stood, 
His ears were open to their cries, his bowels yearned to do them good. 
Poor Israel was in distress, their mighty warlike foes appear' d 
Both hardy, strong, and numerous ; a dismal Overthrow they fear'd. 
" He shall be Head of us," they cried, " who will go out and fight this Bay, 
To overcome their haughty Pride, and in the dust their Honour lay.'" 

Jephthah, the valiant Gileadite, the Warlike Champion needs must be, 
Tho' him they formerly did slight, because a Harlot's Son was he, 
By Gilead, Jephtha's Father then, who by his wife had sons great store, 
And as they grew up to be men, they thrust poor Jephthah out of door. 
Then from his Father's house he fled, unto the Land of Tob he goes, 
Where both his strength and valour spread, reaching the ears of all his Foes. 
Those that did formerly degrade him with the very height of scorn, 
Came at the last to crave his Aid, like persons utterly forlorn. 
For when the Host [of] Amorites came down, like Motes all in the sun, 
Against the fearful Gileadites, their Elders did to Jephthah run, 
Declaring with each sigh and sob, to him they would submission yield, 
If he'd come from the land of Tob, to head their Army in the Field. 

Jephthah return'd immediately the Gilead Elders this reproof, 
" Remember how you hated me, expeWd me from my Father's roof ; 
N a y, forc'd and drove me quite away, like cruel Persons pitiless : 
How can you come to me, I pray, for Succour in your sad Distress ? " 

The Elders, with a blush, reply'd: " Bear not those former things in mind, 
But come and be our warlike Guide, and thou shalt lasting Honours find : 
We are with sorrows compass' d round, our Enemies are not a few. 
And there is none that can be found so valiant in the Field as you." 

" Suppose that by my valiant Sword I from your Fears should set you free, 
Would you be willing to afford the Rule and Government to me ? " 
" The lord be Judge between us both, if toe do not as thou hast said." 
The valiant Jephthah ventur'd forth, and to the Field their Army led. 
He many Messengers did send unto the Amorites with speed, 
To know for what they did contend; but nothing could be well agreed 
Between those mighty potent Foes, assembled with their Annies there, 
But what must be by hardy Blows : therefore for Fight they did prepare. 

592 Jephthah' s Hash Voiv. 

The Spirit of the Lord above did come on Jcphthah out of hand, 
A Pledge or Token of his Love that he should never fall, but stand. 
Then he a solemn Vow did make, unto the blessed Lord of Might, 
That if he would not him forsake, but put his Enemies to flight, 
Or let them fall into his hands, that Israel's glory might increase, 
When ivith his warlike armed Bands he should return from Field in Peace, 
The first that came out of his Door, he 'd offer up a Sacrifice 
To God, Who lives for Evermore, and Rules above the azure sides. 

God granted Jcphthah his Request, the Amorites he overthrew ; 
He gave them little time to rest, like Chaff before the "Wind they flew. 
And Jephthah he pursued the Chase thro' twenty Cities on the Plain, 
And slaughter' d them in woful case ; and so returning home again, 
His Daughter she came forth to meet her Father who return' d from fight, 
Dancing with Timbril, Musick sweet, fill'd with a Transport of Delight. 

But Jephthah he was grieved sore, so soon as ever her he see ; 
And likewise he his garments tore, having no other child but she. 
Said he, " Thou dost my Glory blast, for thee my Heart is sunk full low ; 
The Vow out of my Mouth has past, and back again it cannot go. 
J dare not falsifie that Vow, which to the Lord of Hosts 1 made ; 
Wherefore, my dearest Barling now, ivith Grief my heart is overlaid, 
1 have not power now to save my Daughter from that Destiny : 
Although no other Child I have, my cruel Hand must fall on thee." 

" If you, my honoured Father dear, have made a Vow to God on high, 
Fulfil the same, and never fear, whether it be to live or die." 
With tears of Sorrow he replies, " Child, thou must to the Altar go, 
And there be made a Sacrifice : Alas ! Alas ! it must be so." 

" I am your Child, therefore it 's fit you should do what you please with me ; 
In humble sort I do submit to all that can inflicted be. 
The Lord I find has Vengeance took on those that sought our Overthrow, 
And therefore with a cheerful look the sharpest Grief I '11 undergo. 
Let me but have two months, I pray, to wander on the Mountains high, 
That with my Fellows here I may bemoan my true Virginity." 

Her Father freely let her go, attended by a Mournful Train : 
Two Months she wander'd to and fro, then homeward she return'd again, 
There to receive her Destiny, with Friends and Virgins compass'd round, 
Because to God, as well as he, she knew herself in Duty bound. 
And then her Father did to her according to the Vow he made, [Judges, xl, 39. 
A Crown of Glory to confer on she who willingly obey'd: 
E'er he should break his solemn Oath, his Virgin Daughter, kind and mild, 
Cou'd part with Life and Pleasures both : where shall we find so sweet a Child ? 
The Virgins fair of Israel went constantly four days a year 
To Mourn, as we the Truth may tell, for valiant Jephlha's Daughter dear. 

Printed by and for C. Brown and T. Norris, and Sold by /. Walter, in High-Holborn. 

[White-letter, with a long panoramic woodcut above the four columns of verse ; 
procession of Jewish maidens, dancing, who advance to welcome Jephthah, 
when he returns triumphautly. See Note on p. 593. Date, 1710-21.] 

%}ae cntj tfje last Jkh'rjt'ous ISallatus. 


(A Supplementary Note, on pp. 591, 592.) 

IN our vol. vi, p. 686, we mentioned a perhaps unique broadside -ballad on 
' Jepbtha,' quite distinct from the early one that was quoted in Hamlet, 
act ii, sc. 2 (probably the same ' Jeffa' afterwards transferred in the Registers 
of the Stationers Comp. on 14 December, 1624). We reprinted the Roxburghe 
'Proper new ballad intituled Jepha, Judge of Israel,' in vol. vi, p. 685 — 

" I read that many years agoe, when Jepha, Judge of Israel, [sic. 

Had one fair daughter and no mo'e, whom he loved so passing well, 
And as by lot, God wot, it came to passe, most like it was, 
Great warrs there should be, 
And who should be the chief but he, but he, but he." Etc. 

The virtual identity of the burlesque quotation by Hamlet, in 1603, with the 
already old ditty is evident. The original had belonged to the previous century. 
Our earliest recoverable printed version is circa 1674 (Rawlinson Coll., 566, 
fol. 123, bears his MS. note as to this being the date of purchase. Printed for 
F. Coles, Vere, Wright, and Clarke : Eoxb. ed. is earlier, being from Coles, Vere, 
and Gilbertson). Strangely enough, or scarcely strange since fraud and blunder 
are difficult to conquer, especially when a Bishop endorses the forgery — the 
apocryphal version (given in Percy's Reliques, vol. i, p. 177, 1767) holds place. 
The perversion is due to George Steevens (Isaac Disraeli's ' Puck of Commentators') 
and his untraced " Lady " transcriber, who furnished the Reliques version. 

Inferior in its claims to antiquity, and not connected with Hamlet, the 
hitherto unreprinted ' Jephtha's Rash Vow ' deserves rescue from obliviou. The 
tune named, ' In Nineveh Old Tobit dxoeli,' 1 marks the ' Ballad of Tobias,' which 
was reprinted in these Rnxb. Ballads, vol. ii, p. 621. Not improbably there 
may have been earlier editions of the ' Rash Vow,' as its former popularity 
would account for the expensiveness of the woodcut. It shows the maidens 
coming forth, dancing, to welcome Jephthah, who returns in a triumphal car after 
the Roman fashion (Douce Coll., Ill, 46 verso). We reprint it on pp. 591, 592. 

There is also in a somewhat doubtful Jacobean MS. (B.M. Add. MS. 
32,380, p. 11), ' Jeptha and his Daughter,' beginning, " You all have heard 
long agoe." It is signed, ' Finis. Ri. Jo.' 

€&e Duke's W\%% 

EVERYTHING comes to the man who will not wait, but keeps 
his eyes open, and knows exactly what he wants. In 1883 
we sought the lost ballad of ' The Duke's Wish ' (see vol. v, p. xii 
of first Preface, and pp. 68, 69), with its burden of Fie ask no 
more. It is thirteen years ago, and we give it now, recovered 
from a genuine Lancashire MS., slightly mutilated by rough 
usage, and lacking any title. 

It lurked unsuspectedly, in company with two identified songs in MSS., until 
the present Editor obtained the first line, and afterwards a transcript, from his 
good friend Charles W. Sutton — to whom for this and other help he renders 
hearty thanks. It is the satirical " Duke's Wish " (we honestly believe), on 
James, Lake of York, in Popish Plot days, 1679-80 ; the original which Thomas 
Houghton imitated in his "Miners of Minerals, where'ere you be" (of which 
a third exemplar was Jersey Coll., I, 370=Lind., 802), reprinted, vol. v, 68. 

vol. vin. 2 a 



Cbe Duke's mt0f), 

Ortune, since thou bid'st me chuse, 

Of what I have most [need] to use 
Of all thy store ; 
First I wish to be well fed, 
And keep a table richly spread : 

Pie aske noe more, Pie aske noe more. 

For my dwellinge to have care, 
Princely houses to prepare, 

With a back dore 
For private uses and for friends, 
For choice delights and speciall ends : 

Pie aske noe more, Pie aslce noe more. 

Next, a neat and sumptuous bedd, 
Wheare in is a faire Lady layd ; 

Grant thou therefore 
A modest vertuous wife be shee, 
To keepe me honest, if it may be : 

Pie aske noe more, Pie aske noe more. 

Melancholly to prevent, 
And remove all discontent, 

Increase my store, 
With some odd thousands every day, 
To drive my musingo thoughts away : 

Pie aske noe more, Pie aske noe more. 

But when age shall sense deprive, 
And I can no longer live, 

I then implore, 
When I the world — and it leaves mee 
A blessed Saint in heaven to be : 

Pie aske noe more, Pie aske noe more. 

But when to heaven I shall ascend, 
One thing more [give], I may attend 

To keep the dore, 
That soe I may let in my friend, ["*' 

And all my foes away may send : *• 

Pie aske noe more, Pie aske noe more. 


r pace Arabella 
Susan Skip- 
worth, and 

L Kate Sedlcy. 

of James. 

[t. aige . . sence. 

e. Recent convert. 
= The Exclusionists. 



iBnVm jFaugtiw' Dream. 

" My mother had a maid, call'd Barbara ; 
She was in love, and he she loved proved mad, 
And did forsake her : she had a song 1 of ' Willow ' ; 
An old thing 'twas, but it express' d her fortune, 
And she died singing it. That song to-night 
"Will not go from my mind. I have much to do, 
But to go hang my head all at one side, 
And sing it like poor Barbara" 

— Othello, iv, 3. 

WE recover the lost ballad of Bar'ra Faustus 1 Dream, or Barbara 
Forster's Dream (the title varied when the tune wag cited). 
The experience of a lifetime has taught us that innumerable 
things accounted among the ' losses of antiquity ' have not actually- 
perished — like those mentioned by Pancirollus, De antiquis deperditis, 
but merely remain hidden, whether unsought or unscanned; they 
usually reveal themselves unexpectedly to the observant eye of one 
who knows their value, while he searches in likely or unlikely 
places for something different. There is a sort of electric insight. 
The eye could have perceived nothing without its trained faculty 
for seeing. " But it needs happy moments for this skill." 

' The Second Part of Barrow Faustus' Dreanie ' (sic) has revealed 
itself in the same valuable collection of ' Black-letter Vestiges of 
the Stuart Cycle,' whence the nearly perfect duplicate of ' The 
Two Inseparable Brothers,' by Martin Parker, was unearthed 
a few months ago (see p. xvi of Second Preface to this vol. viii). 
It avowedly lacks the earlier stanzas, and is sorely tattered, but 
here and elsewhere much has been regained of the long-lost ballad. 

Manuscripts preserved the music (in Queen Elizabeth's Virginal Book, twice ; 
in a 4to at the Advocates Lib., Edinburgh, formerly belonging to Cranston, 
Dr. John Leyden, and Bichard Heber; among 'Airs and Sonnets' in MS. 
Trin. Coll. Dublin, F. v. 13 ; also in Philip Bossiter's Lessons for Consort, 1609, 
and Forbes's C'ant/ts, 1662). It was 'godlified' in Psalmes or Songs of Sion, 
1642. It had reappeared as Bara Faustus' 's Dream, or, Phoebus is long over 
de zee, in the Nederlandische Gedcnck Clanch, 1626. In Friesche Lust-llof, 1634, 
it bears the Phcebus synonym. In Dr. Camphuysen's Stichtelyche Rymen, 
Amsterdam, 1649, it is covered by both names, Phoebus is long, and Forster's 
Dream [sic]. This is according to William Chappell (partly MS. note) ; than 
whom no authority is higher. He had no equal, merely imitators. He gave 
the tune in his Popular Music of the Olden Time, p. 240, 1855. Honour be 
ever paid lovingly to his memory. We are at best his pupils. 

' The Shepherd's Joy,' to the tune of Bar'ra Faustus' Bream, must have 
borrowed part of the original earlier ballad, into the third edition of The Golden 
Garland of Princely Delight, 1620. This would account for the coincidence of 
one stanza being in both. Our recovered version is from dissevered fragments, 
not absolutely trustworthy, because some of them may be misplaced, or defective. 


Bar'ra jfaustus' 2Dream* 

To a Pleasant New Tune. 

WHen of late I sought my bed, 
Sad my thoughts, I could not slumber, 
All my happiness was fled, 

Fears they wrack' d me without number. 
. Longing for return of Day, 

Nought could ease me, [or could] please me, 
Not one hope with me would stay. 
Fortune dark [as death] did seem ; 
[My love] parted, broken-hearted. 
Then I dreamed my Bream. 

Far away, [it came to be,] 

Far away, my feet went straying ; 
Phoebus long over the sea 

Shining brightly, waves a-playing. 
Lo, my true-love comes to me ! 

"All is mended, sorrows ended; 
Since my love once more I see ! 
Young and happy, [by the] stream, 

We can wander, growing fonder." 
This was all a Dream. 

" Tell me, Love, tell me true, 
Shall we never part again ? 
Am I still as dea* to you, 

As before you cross'd the Main ? 
I had gladly died that day ! 

Could you leave me ? you would grieve me, 
From me did you longer stay : 
Left in darkness, [without gleam] 
Of the far- light, moon or star-light." 
Could this be a Dream ? 

Then he soothed me with sweet kisses, 

Told me all his hopes and fears too ; 
Spoke of endless future blisses, 

Wiped away my joyous tears too. 
Not one cloud was in the sky, 

Birds were trilling songs, and billing, 
No strange foes were lurking nigli ; 
None could danger dread, or deem, 

Since espial forms Love's trial. 
It was a happy Dream. 

Bar'ra Fanstus' Dream. 597 

" Come, sweet Love, let sorrow eease ! 
Banish, frowns, leave off dissension ; 
Love's war makes the sweetest Peace, 
Hearts uniting through contention. 
Sunshine follows after rain ; 

Sorrows ceasing, this is pleasing : 
All proves fair again. 
After sorrow cometh joy : 

Trust me, prove me, try me, love me ! 

This will cure annoy." * [See Note. 

" Since " (I say) " you love me still, 
Am I now as fair as ever ? 
Fear of change anew would kill : 
I should die were we to sever ! " 
" Fairer, lovelier, thou to me, 

Always dearer, draw me nearer : 
None more beautiful I see ! " 
When he ceased, I woke in pain, 
Tortured sadly, blindly, madly. 
Could I dream that Dream again ? 
Could I dream again ! 

Note. — Following the coincident stanza, " Come, sweet Love," are three 
stanzas in one version, before 1666 ; possibly belonging to the original Barra 
Faus tits' Bream, certainly appointed to be sung to the same tune. They 
are— (1) " Come, sweet Love " ; (2) " Winter hides" ; (3) " See this bright" ; 
(4) "Then, sweet Love." Not the fiual stanza, "Since, I say, you love me 
still." These are given in brevier type, to mark tbe difference of the versions. 

" Winter hides his frosty face, | Blushing now to be pursued;* 
Spring returns with pleasant grace, | Flora's treasures are renewed. 
Lambs rejoice to see the Spring, | Leaping, skipping, sporting, tripping ; 
Birds for joy do sing. | Let your spring of Joy renew, 
Colling, kissing, clapping, blessing, | And give Love his due. 

See this bright shine of thine eyes, | Clouded now with dark disdaining : * 
Shall such stormy tempests rise | To set Love's faire day a raining? 
Men are glad, the sky being clear, | Lightly toying, sporting, joying, 
With their lovely peer ; | But are sad to see the shower, 
Sadly dropping, louring, pouting, | Turning sweet to sour. 

Then, sweet Love, disperse this cloud, | Which obscures ! this woful coying ! * 
When each creature sings aloud, | Filling hearts with over- joying : 
Every Dove doth seek her mate, | Gently billing, she is willing, 
Sweets of love to take. | With such warrs let us contend, \_a.l. words. 

Wooing, doing, wedding, bedding : | This our strife shall end. jfinis. 


C6e ^econn pait of TBarroto jFaustus' Dreame, 

To a Pleasant New Tune. 

AS lately I lay in my bed, willing for to sleepe, 
A drowsie Dreame came in my head, which made me for to weep. 
If you are willing for to know, the truth hereof I will plainely show, 

Therefore marke well the same : 
[One] night there came, immediately, a man and sayd, " Come goe with me ! " 
But told me not his name. 

And then he brought me to a place, and sayd, " Doe not feare ! " 
"Whereas I saw before my face One sitting in a chaire : 
Methought it was a dolefull sight, and sure it did amaze me quite, 

His person to behold : 
H[e had a Crown] and hollow eyes, his flesh was gon[e] clean from bis thighs, 

His face did shine like gold. 

I saide to him that brought me there, " Deare friend, what is he 

That sits so sadly in his chaire ? I pray you tell to me." 

Then told he me it was a Judge, and from that place I must not budge, 

For feare of further strife : 
" For sure, my loving friend " (quoth he), "greatstore of company thou shalt see, 

In perill of their life." [text, lives. 

"With that I saw a King stand [quite] before him at that time, 

And he was clothed all in white, most seemely to be seene : 

Then came his [nobles] and his wife, and of the Ju[dge besought his] life, 

[But he was hade stand by : {Nine half -lines torn off.) 

[To whom much had been freely lent, to govern well, yet time mis-spent, 

Nor heard the widow's cry.] 

Second Part of Bar'ra Faustus' Bream. 599 

[He knew his fatal doom was nigh, and he bemoaned sore ; [conjectural lines. 

He proffer'd gold his life to buy, that bought his soul before. 

" I cannot bear to die," quoth he.] " If thou wilt grant my life to me, 

The tearme of twenty yeares ! 
Good my Lord, hold me excuse, for I have money out at use, 

Which makes me shed my teares." 

Then said the Judge : " 'Tis all in vaine, because thou hatest the poore : 
Thy suite thou shalt not here obtaine, fur all thy gold and store. 
I scorue thy gold and usury, a cruell death thou needs must die, 

Therefore stand back a while." 
Then came in a simple man, that was scarce able to go or stand, 

And on the Judge did smile, 

And said : " My Lord, breake off this strife, if it may [so] please thee ; 

I 'le die to save the rich man's life, for that will much ease me." 

With that the Judge took up a dart, and strooke the poor man to the heart, 

Which was his ownly choise. 
The sixe young children came in then, with instruments [of music playing], 

Which made my heart rejoyce. 

With that me thought a trumpet did sound, dolefully, dolefully ; 

About the Judge there stood a crowd, presently, presently. [' up round.' 

This to the Good the Judge did say : ' ' Goe forth along in that straight way, 

That leads to everlasting Joy. 
The broad way [is] left for the Evill, the which will bring them to the diuell : 

Which will their soules destroy." 

And with these words I did awake, out of my drowsie sleepe : 
And unto prayer my selfe betake, as was both righte and meete. 
Thus of my Dreanie I make an end, trusting that God will us defend, 

And guide us with his grace : 
That when our lives draw to an end, unto Heaven he will us send, 

To have a resting-place. JftntS, 

Printed at London by Alexander"] HI\Jlbourn\. 

[Black-letter. Woodcut, p. 598. Date of Milbourne's reissue circA 1670, but 
the original was ten years earlier. The king clothed in white could not before 
1640 have been an allusion to ' the White King,' Charles I, and " twenty 
years " would be 1660, the Restoration ; the " poor man " was Lord Strafford.] 

This doubtful stanza is not in Milbourne's edition : it may have been the fifth — 

[Long had their humble prayer been made, in patience had they striven, 
Yet he withheld from them his aid, whose aid should have been given. 
When first he came, a Eich Man he, in purple robes clad sumptuously, 

I marvell'd who drew near; 
Proud was his step, with haughty mien, until that throned Judge was seen, 

Then he fell back in fear. ] 

The original Barra Faustus's JJreame without any ' Second Part ' was of date 
before 1609. The two Parts were written by two distinct authors : tho second 
("a cruel death " means 1648-9), being tainted with puritanism, and not a loyal 
Cavalier, gave a sorry sequel to the earlier ' Lover's Dream.' 


[Roxb. Coll., II, 237; Pepys, IV, 140; Jersey, I, 261 =Lindes., 576.] 

C6e ingenious 15raggat)octa ; 

flJEfjo tfjmfca to oblt'cgc fig Boasting of tjfs 3Larc$e Possessions, get 
Snag ucrg unfotlltwj to lose tnurij time m Mooing : mtt [after 
iji'0] 6£t'ng maruetf inas in a toeek'a time acquainted iru'th, an 
acljfncj jForcfjcati. 

To the Tune of, Cook-Laurel [see Note below] . 

I Have a Mare, her colour is white : 
Sweet, if thou love me, tell me now ! 
To ride on [my journey] 1 take delight, 
And J cannot come every day to wooe. [Cf. vol. iv, 373. 

With hey, my Nanny, with ho, my Nanny ! 
With hey, my Nanny, my Nanny, Nanny ! 
The more I do look, the more I love thee ; 
Thou art kinder than ever thou used to be. 
I have a key, but it wants a lock : Sivect, if thou love me, tell me now ! 
I have that will please, un[less thou] mock : And I cannot come, etc. 

I would not wed when I was young: Sweet, if thou love me, etc. 

Eut now I am old I want a good t[ongue] : And I cannot come, etc. 

I have a house, and a [poultry-]yard ; 

But by the right owner I 'in from it debarred, etc. 

I have a pot, that wants a ladle, 

Come furnish me then, if thou art able. 

We '11 leave off these cups, and fill up our glasses : 
We '11 leave off old Widdows, and court young Lasses. 

It is not a week since I took me a Bride, 

But 1 fear there 's a cuckold that lies by her side. 

Once I had Silver, and once I had Gold, 
And once I had Land, but I could not it hold. 

And now I have spent and wasted my store, 

I have Horns on my head, which I ne'r had before. 
And to be a Cuckold, if it be my lot, 

It is an old Trade that will ne'r be forgot. 
In the City and Country, some brethren I have, 

Whose wives do maintain them both gallant and brave. 
With hey, my Nanny, with ho, my Nanny, etc. 
Thou art kinder than ever thou used to be. 

Trinted for F. Coles, T. Vere, J. Wright, J. Clarke, W. Thackeray, 

and T. Passenger. 

[Black-letter. Two cuts: 1st, reverse of the full-length Cornuto, vii, 204; 
2nd, a girl, holding a feather-fan, like iii, 576. Date, circa 1676.] 

Marked " To the Tune of, Cook-Laurel." (See vol. vii, p. 219, for the song 
by Ben Jonson.) But this ascription of the tune is incorrect. The true tune 
must have been an adaptation of ' Come hither, my own siveet Buck !' (the words 
thereof in Merry Drollery, 1661, vol. ii, p. 106, were by It. Roberts ; reprinted 
at Boston, Line, 1876, p. 247, of his Choyce Drollery volume). This 'Insatiate 
Lover,' of probable date 1646, the original, holds a free companion chorus — 

With lay ho, my honey ! my heart shall never rue, 
For I have been spending money, and amongst the Jovial Crete. 

Richard CrimsaVs ' Wooing of a Widow.' 601 

It cannot be imputed as a fault to the ' Ingenious Braggadocia ' 
[sic'] that he had resolved to " leave off old widows and court young 
lasses." These were commendable aspirations. The ballad-writer 
Richard Crimsal, in his Cupid's Soliciter of Love, has discriminated 
wisely on 'the AVooing of a Widow,' to the tune of, ' I am in love,'' 
etc. : to which was sung also, ''When I do call to mind my former 
life" (Rawl. Coll., 146); 'A Discourse betwixt Simple-Wit the 
tenant, and Money-Love the landlord.' 

a ^>ong upon t&e booing of a ftQiDoto, 

To the Tune of, I am in Zove[, and cannot tell with whom"]. 

HE that will wooe a Widow must not dally, 
He must make hay while the sun doth shine ; 
He must not with her stand, ' Shall I, shall I ?' 
But boldly say, ' Widow, thou must be mine ! ' 
Maids are unconstant, widows are unkind, 
The best of all is fickle as the wind. 

'Tis vain to wooe a Widow over long, 

In once or twice her mind you may perceive ; 
Widows are subtile, be they old or young, 

And by their wiles young men they will deceive. 
Strike home at first, and then she will be kind, 
Else you shall find them fickle as the tvind. 

Maids they are cross, the Proverb so doth tell, 
Young men must flatter them all the while ; 
But Widows they love a bold spirit well, 

And if you please her, then, on you she '11 smile. 
It' you can give content unto her mind. 
She HI love you well, else her you HI fickle find. 

Richard Crimsal, 1682. 

Another person who suffered the same malady of an aching 
brow as the ' Braggadocia,' was a citizen, 'The London Cuckold,' 
in 1686. The tune is, Mother ! Roger: see p. 200. The allusion 
to the encampment of the Army, on Hounslow Heath, indicates the 
date, July 1686, confirmed by the licenser, Richard Pocock. 

After the suppression of Monmouth's Rebellion in the West, the 
country was inclined to settle down at peace with the new king, 
James II ; but in London there were too many disaffected intriguers 
ready to stir up the mob to commotion, and the establishment of any 
Catholic Chapel was the welcome signal for plunder and destruction, 
under pretence of Protestant zeal. One was destroyed so late as 
the 28th October, 1688. " King James gathered into a camp on 
Hounslow Heath, within a circuit of 1\ miles, fourteen battalions of 
foot-soldiers and thirty-two squadrons of horse, amounting to 13,000 
fighting-men." Narcissus Luttrell records, on 19th July, 1686, "A 
train of artillery, consisting of about thirty cannon, with all ammu- 
nition and necessaries required in a camp, was drawn through the 
City from the Tower to Hounslow " (Brief Relation, vol. i, p. 381). 

602 The Camp formed on Hounslow Heath. 

Two days later Samuel Johnson, author of Julian the Apostate and 
other intemperate libels, was tried at the Court of Queen's Bench, 
for having written, and caused to be circulated at the camp, two 
papers, intended to excite disaffection and mutiny among the 
soldiers. One was entitled, l An Addresse to the English Protestant 
Officers in this present Army'; the other was, ' The Opinion that 
Resistance may be used in case our Religion and Rights should be 
invaded.'' Found guilty by a Surrey jury, he was sentenced "to 
stand thrice in the pillory, pay a fine of 500 marks, and to be 
whipt from Newgate to Tyburn." On the 20th November he was 
by the subservient bishops and clergy, ' commissioners,' degraded 
from the priesthood, and surrendered as a secular person to undergo 
his punishment. (The clerical judgment was reversed, 11 June, 
1689, and declared to have been "cruel and illegal.") He had 
been the tool of the notorious Hugh Speke. At first the London 
citizens had felt distrust and terror at the formation of the camp, 
believing it was meant to overawe them. But they speedily lost 
their dread, and it became thronged with visitors full of gaiety 
and prodigal expenditure. This attraction accounts for the absence 
from his own home of ' The London Cuckold.' Before June, 1686, 
many of the soldiers were ill, and some died, the effect of the 
" very wet and unseasonable weather." 

Compare Evelyn's Diary, iii, p. 22. — "June 28 [1686]. Such storms, raine, 
and foul weather, seldom known at this time of the yeare. The camp at 
Hounslow Heath, from sicknesse and other inconveniences of weather, forced to 
retire to quarters : the storms being succeeded by excessively hot weather, many 
grew sick. Greate feasting there, especially in Lord Dumbarton's quarters. 
There were many jealousies and discourses of what was the meaning of this 
encampment." Cf. N. Luttrell's Brief Relation, i, 381, 383. 

In August, 1688, the campaign ended. King James left Hounslow 
for Westminster, troubled in mind, when riotous rejoicings were 
made over the acquittal of the ' Seven Bishops,' after their ridiculous 
sham martyrdom and attitudinizing. (See the subject treated in 
vol. iv, pp. 292-8.) This foolish Trial of the Bishops had been a 
disastrous blunder. ' A sentimental grievance ' is always a more 
serious obstacle than any one of mere illegality or military 
oppression. The Army itself had been systematically assailed by 
seditionists, whilst the influx of profligates and courtesans had 
corrupted the small amount of morality the troops possessed. 
Almost to a man they showed their unwillingness to support any 
new scheme for coercion, even under pretence of abolishing the 
invidious 'Test Act': a repeal whereby James II hoped at first 
to conciliate the dissenters, against the ' Reformed Church.' But 
their fear and hatred of Romanists turned the scale. The Hounslow 
Heath camp had been renewed on July 12, 1688. On the following 
8th August, it was wholly broken. In discontent the troops 
dispersed to country quarters. (See Note on the Camp, p. 605.) 


[Eoxb. Coll., II, 286; Bagford, I, 58; Pepys, IV, 122; Jersey, I, 21S= 

Lind., 1212.] 

%\)t JLonUon CucftoUi ; 

Zn £uttintt Citijm'g geati ft>cll=fittro tottjj a flourishing 
pair of fashionable ^orng fau Si# bujrome J^oung 
Mfe, togo toa0 toell [atrbeo] bp a Coltigg poimg 
&>parfc, in tlje time of Jjer ^usbantfjs absence at t|)e 
Campaign on ^oimsloto ^eatJj* 

Tune of, Mother ! Roger, etc. [p. 200], This may be printed, 

K. P[ocock]. 

A Trades-man, hearing of the story of the Army and Campaign, 
Long'd for to behold the glory, and he went to see the same ; 
On his brown-bay Tit he got, and away does bravely trot, 
Left behind his witty Wife, whom he lov'd as dear as Life : 
But while my Tradesman took the air, 
There came \_mischance~\ and [spoilt] his mare. 

It wa3 a Gallant with white-feather, and a coat with golden lace, 
Hearing of her fame came thither, and supply'd her Husband's place ; 
Little thought the careless man of the game that then began : 
Thinking not to be beguil'd, by his wife so sweet and mild : 

But ivhile the Tradesman took the air, 

There came a colt and baclc'd his mare. 

"When he came home she gave him kisses, and Sack-Posset very good ; 
Caudles, too, she never misses, for they warm and heat the blood; 
Such things will create desire, and new kindle Ctipid's fire : 
These things made him kiss his wife, and to call her Love and Life. 

But tohile [alas /) he took the air, 

A wanton colt had baclc'd his mare. 

The good man soon found something budding, which did put him 

to great pain, 
And, as he was eating Pudding, to his wife he did complain : 
" Wife " (said he), " I am not well; what I ail'd I cannot tell, 
Put my forehead leels like bone, 'tis as hard as any stone." 
" By Jove " {quoth she) " and this fair mom ! 
Husband, Husband, lis a Horn ! " 

604 The London Cuckold at Hounslow Camp, 

"A Horn !" (quoth he), "pray hold your prating (for I vow 

you make me quake) : 
If it be, 'tis of your making. dear, how my head does ake ! 
I am in a woful case ; something, something, sprouts apace." 
" Love" (said she), "then know your doom! One [came to] me 
in your room : 

For while you rid to take the air. 

There came a colt that backed your mare." 

"The Deuce" (quoth he) "take ye for witches! Can't a man 

ride out a mile, 
But some fellow with fine breeches must new saddle you the while ? " 
" Husband, Husband, for your joy, you shall have a thumping boy. 
Come, come, peace, and have more wit. Oh ! I feel a qualmish fit. 

I find, I find 1 [was beguiVd~\ : 

Tray, my dear, be hind and mild!" 

" [Beguil'd], d'ye say, ye arrant Hussie ! Ine'rgotit? Is it true?" 
" 'Tis!" (quoth she) : "you weresobusie, I was loath to trouble you. 
You love Business as your life, but ne'r mind to kiss your wife. 
You leave me to lye alone, all night long to sigh and moan. 

And therefore, when you took the air, 

There came a colt and backed your mare. 

" It was a youth in gaudy jacket, that appear'd most brisk and fine, 
Kist me, prest me, teaz'd my placket ; made me blush like claret 

But at last I did obey. What young woman could say nay ? 
To this Gallant I did yield, and the warrior won the field. 

For while you, Husband, took the air, 

This same youngster backed your mare." 

" Oh ! let true patience be my balsom, since I know my wretched 

fate ; 
Prating like a Fool is fulsome, silence cures the horned pate. 
Should I blow my trumpet out, I should raise the Babble rout, 
Have the boys about my ears, and endure their flouts and jeers. 

But for hereafter I'le talce care, 

That no young colt shall back my mare." 

Printed for J. Tack, at the Black Boy, on London- Bridge, near 

the Draw-bridge. 

[Black-letter. Three woodcuts : 1st, the amazed man, from the picture in 
p. vii, 210 ; 2nd, a fight between two armies of spearmen in a plain ; 3rd, the 
bedroom scene of vii, 458. Followed in the Pepysian Coll., IV, 123, by the 
Answer, apparently uuique, " I pray now listen to my ditty." Date, 1686.] 


an an.stoer to tbe Lon&on CuckoIB, 

3LatcIg fitted toiffr a large pair of ftorns of the Ncfa tfasftfon, 
fcorjich his intfe maoe him in tfjc tune of hfs 3&totng to Hounslow 
Heath. flHith art account of his languishing unocr the fcutom 
of his nefo ^cao=ptccc. ^Together im'tfj fjts UStfe's faithful 
promise of seeking out for a specon, cure for his lamentable 

To the Tune of, Mother ! Roger [with his kisses. See p. 201]. This may 

be printed, R.. P[ocock]. 

I Pray now listen to my Ditty. I shall weep for evermore ; 
All my neighbours now take pity ! I had ne'er such horns before. 
How my head does throb and ake, and my heart with grief will break ; 
I am wofully possest, night and day I take no rest: 
when I tvent the Camp to see, 
Would I had to 1 en my tvife with me. [Etcetera. 

Printed for J. Deacon, at the Angel in Guilt-spur-street. 
[Black-letter. Six woodcuts. Date, 1686-7.] 

(The true Apotheosis of such a ' London Cuckold ' is shown in two ballads — 
1 Hey for Horn Fair,' 1 and the '■Summons to the Hen-peck' 'd Frigate,' given 
later, in the ' Group of Female Ramblers.') 

Lord Macaulay, supreme in his happy knowledge of the valuable ballad-lore 
of Stuart times, gives a glowing description of the Camp in 1686, in its early 
attractiveness. He mentions two contemporary poems, ' Hounslow Heath ' 
and ' Caesar's Ghost,' and quotes one of the ucreprinted ballads in the Pepysiau 
Collection (see p. 607), the third stanza of " The army now returns to London." 

" I liked the place beyond expressing, I never saw a Camp so fine ; 
Not a Maid, in a plain dressing, but might take a glass of wine." 

" The King was resolved not to yield. He formed a Camp on Hounslow 
Heath, and collected there, within a circumference of about two miles and a 
half, fourteen battalions of foot and thirty-two squadrons of horse, amounting 
to thirteen thousand fighting-men. Twenty-six pieces of artillery, and many 
wains laden with arms and ammunition were dragged from the Tower through 
the City to Hounslotv. The Londoners saw this great force assembled in their 
neighbourhood with a terror which familiarity soon diminished. 

" A visit to Hounslow became their favourite amusement on holidays. The 
camp presented the appearance of a vast fair. Mingled with the musketeers 
and dragoons, a multitude of fine gentlemen and ladies from Soho Square, 
sharpers and painted women from Whitefriars, invalids in sedans, monks in 
hoods and gowns, lacqueys in rich liveries, pedlars, orange girls, mischievous 
apprentices, and gaping clowns, was constantly passing and repassing through 
the long lanes of tents. From some pavilions were heard the noises of drunken 
revelry, from others the curses of gamblers. In truth the place was merely 
a gay suburb of the capital. The King ..... had hoped that his army would 
overawe London ; but the result of his policy was that the feelings and opinions 
of London took complete possession of his army." — History of England, 
vol. ii, chapter vi, p. 103, edition 1849: Cabinet edition, i, 366, 367; ii, 127. 


C6e COlritec&apel e&mW lamentation. 

" And then methought I heard a hollow sound, 

Like echoes that from caves and rocks rebound ; 

And thus it spake — ' Full five-and-twenty years [1660-1685. 

I reign'd, without the noise or toil of Wars ; 

Bore the indignities of Factious Power, 

And saw my life in danger every hour ; [Charles II. 

Yet rather had resign'd it up in peace, 

Than ow'd my safety to such Brutes as these, [Irish troops. 
At best a Scare-crow, rebels to affright : 
Put them to action, and scarce one will fight.' " 

Casar's Ghost. 

WHATEVER design of arbitrary power James II may have 
cherished, while he maintained this disorderly Camp at 
Hounslow Heath, the troops had not enough loyalty to resist the 
contagion of seditious agitators; among whom were emissaries of 
the Orange faction, insinuating treason. Their teaching is thus 
summarized, satirically, by some libellous opponent of the King : — 

" Now pause, and view the Army Royal, 
Compos'd of valiant souls and loyal ; 
Not rais'd (as ill men say) to hurt ye, 
But to defend, or to convert ye : 
For that 's the method now in use 
The Faith Tridei/tine to diffuse. 
Time was, the Word was powerful, 
But now 'tis thought remiss and dull ; 
Has not that energy and force 
Which is in well-arm'd Foot and Horse." 

Rounslow-Seath, 1686 [1687]. 

Although it was politically a failure, the Camp, nevertheless, 
made a lively impression on womenkind, by gaiety and debauchery. 
Records are extant in contemporary broadsides. One of them, 
unique (Pepys Coll., Ill, 127), is entitled, 'The White- Chappel 
Maids' Lamentation, for the loss of their Sweet-hearts, upon the 
Souldiers Departing to the Army to fight for the King.' To the 
tune of, ' Methinks the poor Town has been troubled too long ' (see 
vol. vi, p. 127). Licensed, ' This may be Printed, June the 24, 1685, 
R. L. S[trange] : Entered according to Order.' It begins thus : — 


E Maids are undone, our Sweet-hearts are flown, 
And gone to the Army to get them renown, 
To guard and preserve each County and Town, 
And fight for the safety of Kingdom and Crown. 
No nation can show us such youths as are here, 
Such warlike brave Heroes, such hearts void of fear. 

Printed for C. Dennisson, at the Stationers' '-Arms within Aldgate. [b.-l., 1685.] 

Ballads and Satirical Poems on Hounslow Heath. GOT 

This loyal ballad was written before the suppression of Monmouth's 
Insurrection in the West, as Roger Le Strange's license of it proves. 
He gave place to R,. Pocock about August, in the same year. 
Consequently of later date is the following ballad : — 

' The Westminster Madams' Lamentation, for the breaking up of 
the Campaign at Hoimsloio- Heath, and the loss of their Pleasure 
they used to receive there. Together with the Souldiers' kind 
Answer, in comforting them, with hopes of meeting them again 
the next Summer. This may be Printed, R,. P[ocock]. To the 
tune of, Mother, Roger ' [with his kisses : see p. 200]. It begins 
(Pepys Coll., Ill, 339)— 

" rjlHe Army now returns to London, and farewell to the Campaign ; 
_L Now, alas ! I am quite undone, left to sigh and to complain. 
Fickle Fortune has me crost : what a Lover have I lost ! 
What a Hero brave and fine, liked and lov'd this face of mine ! 

But yet I hope, the next Campaign, to see these Souldiers once again." 

A second stanza intervenes ; the third holds the couplet quoted 
by Macaulay, which we are the first to identify and track home — 

" I liked the place beyond expressing, I never saw a Camp so fine ; 
Not a Maid, in a plain dressing, but might take a glass of wine," etc. 

Printed for/. Back, at the Black-Boy on London-Bridge, [b.-l., 1687.] 

' Cesar's Ghost,' a poem mentioned on pp. 605-6, incidentally 
descriptive of the Camp at Hounslow, held a series of scurrilous 
libels on the visitors, viz., Louis Duras, Earl of Feversham, 
borne about in a sedan-chair, the handsome and mercenary John 
Churchill (Marlborough), Mistress Lovit, Colonel Edward Sackville, 
etc., not omitting the miserable City Laureate, Elkanah Settle. 
It begins with a description of a pretended Dream — 

' fFWas still low ebb of Night, when not a star 
_L Was twinkling in the muffled atmosphere, 
But all around in horrid darkness mourn'd, 
As if old Chaos were again return'd. 


Amongst these monuments of sacred fame 
Great Ccesar stood : Ccesar, whose deathless name, [ = Charles LL. 
When shrines decay, triumphant shall remain, 
While sense, good nature, wit, and love shall reign. 

As quick as thought the faithless Town he past, 
And towards the Camp of wondrous fame does haste . . . 
Thrice with majestic pace he walks the round, 
Surveying the Pavilions' utmost bound ; 
And useless Grandeur every where he found. 
(Philippi, nor the famed Pharsalian field, 
Did not more signs of glorious action yield ;) 
But this was all for Show, not Terror made, 
'Twas Hounslow Farce, a siege in masquerade. 
More near he views it yet, and found within 
All the degrees of Luxury and Sin : 

608 * Casar's Ghost ' and ' Ilounsloic Heath; 1687. 

Alsatia's sink into this Common-shore [= Whitefriars. 

Did all its vile and nasty nuisance pour ; 

Fat Sharpers, broken Cuckolds, Gamesters, Cheats, 

What Newgate disembogues, find here retreats : 

The Groom and Footman, from their livery stripp'd, 

With scarf, gay feather, and command equipp'd. 

Promotion gives to Sauciness pretence ; 

For greatness is mistook [sheer] Insolence. 

They, to evince their valour every hour, 

Bamboo the Slaves that bow beneath their pow'r. 

Yet to the Country Ladies these appear 

So novel, witty, Beau en Cavalier, 

That scarce a tender heart is left behind ; 

Fray God, a maidenhead you chance to find ! 
The Phantom to that quarter first resorts, 
Where the illustrious Generals keep their Courts. 

Poems on Affairs of State, Vol. I, Part ii, p. 164. 

Another poem, entitled ' Hounslow-Heatu, 1686,' could not 
have been published before mid-April, 1687. With Prelude — 

Upon this place are to he seen 

Many strange sights. God save the Queen ! [Maria Beatrix. 

"VTEar Hampton- Court there lies a Common, 
W Unknown to neither man nor woman ; 
The Heath of Hounslow it is stil'd, 
Which never was with blood defil'd, 
Tho' it has been of War the seat, 
Now three Campaigns almost compleat. 

Here daily swarm prodigious wights, 
And strange variety of sights, 
As Ladies leud, and foppish Knights, 
Priests, poets, pimps, and parasites ; 
Which now we'll spare, and only mention 
The hungry Bard that writes for Pension, 

Old Squab (who 's sometimes here, I 'm told), [ = Juhn Dry den. 

That oft has with his Prince made bold, 
Call'd the late King a saunt'ring cully 
To magnify the Oallick bully : 
Who lately put a senseless banter 

Upon the world with Hind and Panther, [April 11, 1687. 

Making the beasts and birds o' th' wood 
Debate what he ne'er understood: 
Deep secrets in Philosophy, 
And mysteries in Theology, 
All sung in wretched Poetry. 
Which rambling piece is as much farce all 
As his true minor, the Rehearsal ; [1672-5. 

For which he has been soundly bang'd, [Dee. 18, 1679. 

But ha' n't his just reward till bang'd. 

Now you have seen all that is here, 

Have patience till another year. 

<&roup of Ho):burg!)e Ballabs 

on tfje 

l&oguerie£ of S^illtts. 




Of Lincoln College, Oxon, & Great Leiglis Rectory, Chelmsford: 


' The Berkshire Tragedy ; or, The Witt am Miller ' : see p. 629. 

(Woodcut issued on 14th December, 1624.) 

" Murder most foul, as in the best it is ; 
But this most foul, strange, and unnatural." 

Hamlet, act i, scene 5. 


2 K 


Cbe Eogumes of fillers. 

ryillS Group of Roxburghe Ballads records each stage in the Miller's 'Decline 
X and Fall.' Tyburn closes the prospect, and had been richly deserved. 
Finis coronat opus. 

Beginning with fibbing, hut coming speedily to downright lying and 
peculation, stealing corn from sacks and yielding short weight of adulterated 
Hour, the millers in all ages were accused of licentious freedom or betrayal 
towards the superabundant sex, and too frequently resorted finally to murder ; 
as in the case of the Whittenham Miller (p. 629), and Francis Cooper, who killed 
Anne Xicols, at Hocstow, near Shrewsbury (p. 632). 

An old Gloucestershire ditty, remembered by the Editor's father, Joseph 
Ebsworth, from 1797, when it was sung by his own grandmother, he had never 
met with, in manuscript or in print. (His acquaintance with ballad-lore need 
neither be vaunted nor discredited.) We preserve it from oblivion. It tells how 
a captious traveller, wandering in the West, got cross-answers from a deaf miller, 
in our ancestral Forest of Dean : politically represented by Sir Charles Dilke, 
M.P. ; to whom, and to his grandfather, Charles Wentworth Dilke (1789-1864), 
the accomplished author of ' Papers of a Critic,' literature owes much good work. 

%fy SDeaf Mice of tf)t faxttit of SDentn 

THere was an old man by a mill-post so snug, 
Rifol, riddle lol de rey ; [Passim. 

He was deaf, because he h'd lost the use of his lug, 
With his fol de rol de riddle lol de ri doe. 
Now one morning a Traveller appearing in view, 
And that travellers were curious the Miller well knew ; 
So to answer his questions he was in a stew. 

Rifol, riddle iddle, right fol lol lol, rifol, etc. 

" First he '11 ask me " (says he) " what I 've got in my hand ? 
' Mill-post,' says I, ' to this nick in the land ! ' 
Then to larn what 's my wages, most likely he '11 seek ; 
So I '11 tell him ' I yarn about tweF shilling a week.' 
To a gentleman, I '11 warrant me, I knows how to speak. 

Right fol de riddle iddle, etc. [Pnsshn. 

" That he '11 not give so much he may strive to instil ; 
' Well, if you won't ' (says I), ' there be plenty as will ! ' " 

By this time the traveller came up, with a grace, 

And asking Old Gaffer " the name of the place ? " — 
" Mill-post ! " says he, wi' a grin on his face. 
Rifol, de riddle iddle, etc. 

Then he ask'd, " Is it far ? "— " Ees up to this nick ! " 
Says the Gentleman, " What do you deserve for this trick ? " 

" Twelve shillings a week," bawl'd the Miller so shrill. 

Says the Gentleman, " In horsewhipping I '11 show my skill." 

" If you won't" (says Gaffer), " there 's plenty as will." 
Rifol tiddy iddy, rifol lol lol, etc. 

- g^^DO®^^ - 


%\)t ftogiwrfts of flailing* 

The Miller in his best array would needs a wooing ride ; 

To Manchester he takes his way : Naint Clement be his guide ! 
He can singe, he can ring, and doe many a pretty thing ; 

He can pipe dounce a downe, no man better in the towne ; 
His face is fayre, and curled his hayre : 

Miles they this Miller call," etc. (12 stanzas.) 

A. pleasant ballad of ye merry miller' s ivooing 

Of the baker's daughter of Manchester. [Shirburn MS., 153.) 

COMPLAINT against Millers was mentioned in the 
preceding vol. vii, pp. 425 to 427. This class 
of rustics, formerlv prosperous, had been addicted 
to amorous intrigues and breaches of promise, 
no less than to peculation, by excessive ' taking 
of toll.' Chaucer's Miller of Trumpington robbed the two clerks, 
and yet came off a loser. The popular opinion of such gentry is 
recorded in this Roxburghe ditty, which still holds favour. 

[Roxburghe Collection, III, 681 ; Douce Coll., IV, 44.] 

Cbe fillers aotrice to Jus Cbcee §>ons, 

£>n taking of Coll. 

[Tune of, The Oxfordshire Tragedy : "Near Woodstock town," p. 635.] 

Tllere was a Miller who had three sons ; 
And knowing his life was almost run, 
He call'd them all, and ask'd their will, 
If that to them he left his Mill. 

He called first for his Eldest Son, 
Saying : " My life is almost run : 
If I to you this Mill do make, 
What toll do you intend to take ? " 

" Father," said he, " my name is Jack ; 
Out of a bushel 1 '11 take a peck, 
From every bushel that I grind ; 
That I may a good living find." 

" Thou art a fool ! " the old man said ; 
" Thou hast not learned well thy trade : 
This Mill to thee I ne'er will give, 
For by such toll no man can live." 

lie call'd [next] for his Middlemost Son, 
Saying : "My life is almost run : [al. lect, my glass. 

If I to thee the mill do make, 
What toll do you intend to take P" 

612 The Miller's Advice to his Three Sons. 

" Father," said he, " my name is Ralph ; 
Out of a bushel I '11 take it half, 
From every bushel that I grind ; 
So that I may a good living find." 

" Thou art a fool ! " the old man said, 
" Thou hast not learned well thy trade : 
This mill to you I ne'er can give, 
For by such toll no man [can] live." 

He called for his Youngest Son, 
Saying : "My life is almost run : 
If I to you this mill do make, 
What toll do you intend to take ? " 

" Father," said he, " I 'm your only Boy, [text, I am. 
For taking toll is all my joy : 
Before I will a good living lack, 
I '11 take it all, and forswear the sack." 

" Thou art my Boy ! " the old man said, 
" For thou hast well learn' d thy trade ; 
This mill to thee I '11 give ! " he cry'd : 
And then he clos'd up his eyes, and dy'd. Juifs. 

Printed in Aldermary Church-Yard, London. 
[White-letter. Woodcut of the miller addressing his three sons. Date, c. 1730.] 

%* A traditional variation of this song lingers in the West] of England, 
entitled ' The Miller's Last Will.' It is given, with the music harmonized by 
F. W. Bussell, in Songs of the West, collected by the Eev. Sabine Baring-Gould, 
M.A. (author of Carious Myths of the Middle Ages, Mehalah, Court Royal, 
The Gaverocks, The Red Spider, Kitty Alone, The Broom Squire, etc.). It begins 
and ends differently, but the printed broadside held closer to the original text. 

" There was a Miller, as you shall hear, long time he liv'd in Devonshire ; 
He was took sick and deadly ill, and had no time to write his will, 
So he call'd up his eldest son, and said, ' My glass is almost run,' etc 

" ' The Mill is thine,' the old man cried ; he laugh' d, gave up the ghost, and died." 

H The outspoken independence of another miller, The Miller of Dee-side, in 
Cheshire (although the song was ' lifted' by St. Cecilia in 1779, and acclimatized 
in Scotland, where it is no less a favourite), suited the national character. It is 
said that the Mill was destroyed so recently as 1895. 

" There was a jolly Miller once, liv'd on the river Dee ; 
He work'd, and sang from morn till night, no lark more blithe than he ; 
And this the burden of his song for ever used to be — 
' I care for nobody, no, not I, if nobody cares for me.' " 

It belongs to Isaac Bickerstaffe's ' Love in a Village,' 1773. Four stanzas, 
with music, in the Perth Musical Miscellany, 1786, and Calliope, p. 245, 1788. 

The old ballad on ' The King and the Miller of Mansfield,' 
beginning, "Henry, our royal King, would ride a hunting," has 
been already reprinted (Roxb. Bch., vol. i, p. 539). Robert Dodsley, 
the bookseller, at Tully's Head in Pall Mall, in 1736-37, chose 
the popular theme as foundation of his musical farce, with the same 
title. Dodsley's father had been a schoolmaster at Mansfield, Notts. 


[Roxburghe Collection, III, 887.] 

Sung in the Play of ' The King and the Miller of MansfieW [1737.] 

HOw happy a state does the Miller possess, 
Who would be no greater, nor fears to be less ; 
On his Mill and himself he depends for support, 
Which is better than servilely cringing at Court. 

What tho' he all dusty, and whiten'd does go, 
The more he is powder'd, the more like a Beau. 
A Clown in his dress may be honester far 
Than a Courtier who struts in a Garter and Star. 

Tho' his hands are so daub'd they're not fit to be seen, 
The hands of his betters are not very clean ! 
A palm more polite may as dirtily deal ; 
Gold, in handling, will stick to the lingers like meal. 

What tho', when a pudding for dinner he lacks, 
He cribs without scruple from other men's sacks ? 
In this of right noble Example he brags, 
Who borrows as freely from other man's bags. 

Or should he endeavour to heap an estate, 
In this, too, he mimicks the tools of the State, 
Whose aim is alone their own coffers to fill, 
As all his concern is to bring Grist to th' Mill. 

He eats when he 's hungry, and drinks when he 's dry ; 
And down, when he's weary, contented does lie ; 
Then rises up chearful, to woik and to sing : 
If so happy a Miller, then who 'd be a King ? 

[White-letter. No colophon. One woodcut. This is a distinct tune from 
" How happy 's the slate where no discords are breeding " (Pepy's Coll., IV, 
348), which agrees with ' Can life be a blessing ? That 's worth the possessing ?'] 

' The King and the Miller of Mansfield,' having been acted at 
Drury-Lane on Feb. 1, 1737, was followed a year later by the 
sequel, Robert Dodsley's ' Sir John Cockle at Court.' The incident 
was familiar, being part of the old ballad. A similar adventure of 
King James V, the ' Gudeman of Ballengeich,' was used as 
foundation of the popular Scottish drama entitled ' Cramond Brig.' 
Dodsley's success was aided by the ' New Song ' about Millers ; it 
was supposed to have been written for him by Charles Highmore. 
It gave them praise for more honesty than the courtiers or members 
of Parliament, in Sir Robert Walpole's day of unpopularity. No 
doubt the bold denunciation of bribery and corruption won applause 
from the mob ; such expressions having recently been perilous, as a 
protest of partizan spite. It may therefore be discounted according 
to individual politics. After all, it says no more than what ' Sir 
Blue-string' admitted (p. 287) — " All these men have their price !'' 

614 Political Lampoons against the Walpole Family. 

The dishonesty of Millers being proverbial, it was a mild con- 
cession made in the song that " when a pudding he lucks, he cribs 
without scruple from other men's sacks." Even so, in Chaucer's 
Reeve's Tale, ' The Miller of Trumpington ' and all its prototypes 
(the Trouveur Jean de Boves' Des Deux Clercs ; the Cent Nouvelles 
JSfouvelles, etc.) had done in the days of our third Edward, or earlier, 
in every civilized community where gibbets abounded. Playgoers 
understood the personal allusions to statesmen, for the 'outs' 
shouted worse accusations against the Government, and were 
prepared to excel the culprits in every despicable peculation or 
jobbery so soon as chance should seat them in power. " Pulteney 
and Sir Blue-string were very much alike, especially Pulteney." 
Hence it had been, ten years earlier (1727), that the pit roared in 
ecstasy when Peachum and Lockit, after recriminations, confessed — 
"Brother, brother, we are both in the wrong! " Men knew what 
"the patriots" were, and what they always are, until they are 
placed or pensioned. 

Connected with Sir Robert Walpole (though not with Millers), we give on 
p. 615 the political ' New Song ' on Isaac Le Heup, called the brother (i.e. 
brother-in-law) of Sir Robert's own brother Horatio, afterward Lord Walpole, 
of Wolterton. He was mentioned on p. 274 (and in Corrigenda, p. xvi* of the 
Second Preface to this Vol. VIII). The quotation on p. 274 ought to read 
thus, if we cancel the brackets : — 

" Let Pulteney speak, or Caleb write, invincible platoon ! 
Or exiled Harry call in spite both H. and L. ' buffoon ' ; 
I '11 honour Horace, praise Le Heup, 

In hope to hear from Mr. Scroop. [Secretary of Treasury. 

With a fal, la, la, la" etc. 

H. and L. represent the same Horace Walpole and Isaac Le Heup. Horace 
(b. 1678, d. 1757) had no " brother," except Robert and Galfridus; but the 
satirist meant to say "brother-in-law." Isaac is ridiculed as ' Le Heup' 
(either his surname or his nickname ; from a fox-hunting shout). His coarseness 
of speech was common to the Walpole circle, and is here exemplified. Horace 
had in 1721 married Mary Magdalen Lombard, co-heiress of Peter Lombard, 
of Burnhara-thorpe, Norfolk. In 1733 Horace was sent to the Hague, and 
soon became an ambassador to the States General. The electoral palace of 
Herrenhausen is at Hanover. Frederick I.ouis, Prince of Wales (1707-1751), 
was detested by his father, George II, who declared him to be '• the greatest 
Ass in the kingdom." He was by the Jacobites satirized as " feckless Feckie," 
or "Prince Ptd" (see p. 268). By his own mother, Queen Caroline, he was 
heartily despised. None but time-serving sycophants praised him. Among 
them must be reckoned the place-hunting writer of the ' New Song ' which is 
here given from the rare original. (B. Mus. press-mark, 1872, a, 168**.) 

Sir Robert Sutton, formerly ambassador at Paris, was expelled from the House 
of Commons in 1731, for alleged peculation. Pope couples him unjustly with 
the notorious libertine, Colonel Francis Charteris — 

" I pass o'er all these confessors and martyrs, 

Who live like Sutton, or who die like C7ulrt , res. ,, 

(Donne's Satires versified, ii, 36.) Henry Pelham was Secretary of War, 1730. 


He $>[eti]p at ^anotjer. a Jftcto g)ong;* 

[A satire on the Walpole Family. See Note, p. 614.] 

WHen Robin ruled the British land, with gold and silver bright, 
To put his kindred all in place, he ever took delight. 

Forth from ' the Venal Land ' he called, Ho[ra]ce and Isaac came : 
He bid 'em go to foreign Courts, and raise immortal fame. 

Two Taylor's daughters, rich and fair, exactly match each brother ; 
Horace made suit and gain'd the one, and Is[aa]c stitch'd the other. 

Alike they were in shape and size, alike in parts and breeding ; 
One to the Court of France was sent, one to the Court of /Sweden. 

H<>[ra~\ce in France did treaties make, which ne'er can be repeated ; 

And you shall hear how Is\_aa~\c, too, our Heir Apparent treated. \Fred. 

At Ser[r]enhausen he arrived, and knocked at the Ring, 

And told them that in haste he 'd brought a Message from the King. 

They took him for a Post-boy first, and so they let him wait, 
It being an hour at least before they open'd to him the Gate. 

Incens'd at this, he rav'd and storm'd, and made a mighty Pother, 

And swore by G . d he 'd "teach them all to know Sir Robert's brother ? " 

Our Pr[in]ce came out and heard him swear, mistook him first for S[ut~\ton ; 
But, after, ask'd him civilly to eat a piece of Mutton. 

But then at Supper as they sat, drinking and gaily sporting, 

Le \_Seu]p with many a smutty joke his neighbour fell a courting ; 

And down her stays his hand he squeez'd, then talked wondrous Pass : 
Quoth he : " Mon Prince Apparament : [il est un precieux Asse ! "] 

The Prince was shock'd, yet smiling said : " These jokes are of the oddest, 
Good 'Squire Le J£[eu]p ; for you must know Our Ladies are all Modest." 

" Modest ! " reply'd Le H[eu]p, and sneez'd : " Before I go to Stockholm, 
As modest as they are, good Sir ! in faith I mean to knock 'em." 

The men got up, and laugh'd aloud, the Damsels did retire ; 
Then, to return their low contempt, thus spoke the angry Squire : 

" Come, kiss mine a , your Prince and all: D n ye, dy'e think I care ? 

Has e'er a German Prince like me five thousand pounds a year ? " 

Provoked at this Language foul, they call'd him Hundsfoot, Skeliham ! " 
And threaten'd they would use him worse than e'er the King did Felham. 

The Pr[in]ce (God bless him !) now stept in, who kept his temper still, 
And said, " This man my Father sent ; and shall we use him ill ? 

" No : I to England with this news a Letter will endite : 
The King and Queen shall know it all, and they will do me right. 

" My Father will revenge th' affront, and turn out all his kin, [= Walpole V 
From him that dues for Y[armoii\th serve,* to him that serves for L[yn]n.'" 

Now God bless both our K . g and Q . n, and may they quickly do it ; 
Or shortly else (full well, I ween) they will have cause to rue it. Jung. 

[White-letter. No colophon or tune. * Horatio Walpole was M.P. for 
Yarmouth ; his brother, Sir Robert W , M.P. for King's Lynn. Date, 1732-3.] 


Z))t JLtistp fipiller's iRecreation- 

" But how the subject-theme may gang, 
Let time and chance determine ; 
Perhaps it may turn out a sang, 
Perhaps turn out a sermon." 

Burns, 1786. 

NOt every reader of these Roxburghe Ballads, except habitual 
subscribers and admirers, may be able at first to perceive 
the moral teaching and orthodox religiosity of the ensuing ditty, 
although its publisher, Philip Brooksby, advertised it as " a most 
pleasant design," and also " a most delectable new song." Surely 
he ought to know the true commercial value of his wares, who 
made a bouncing profit out of them : " For what is worth in any 
thing, but so much money as 'twill bring?" said Hudibras in 
contemporary days. The ballad is a great Ecclesiastical object- 
lesson to edify an unborn backsliding generation, predestinated 
to come two centuries later. What a noble "design!" It 
exemplifies the inevitable result of rupturing the Tables of 
Affinities and Forbidden Degrees, which disqualify for matrimony. 
"Wisdom cried out in the streets prophetically, two hundred years 
before her due time, but she utters her warnings in divers notes 
and measures, a disregarded Cassandra. Wiuthrop Mackworth 
Praed, in 1826 (remembering the rhymes of Burns in his 'Epistle,' 
"I lang hae thought my youthful friend"), made Friar Bacon's 
Brazen-Head reiterate them, when chanting the truthful paradox — 

" I think that life is not too long : 
And therefore I determine, 
That many people read a song, 
Who will not read a sermon." 

' The Miller's Recreation ' combines both song and sermon. It 
is a revival of the medisoval Apologue : a ' Morality ' without any 
' Mystery.' It rebukes those imbecile persons who are bent on 
marrying their undeceased wife's sisters, any number of them, as 
though expecting a reduction on taking a large quantity. The 
previous death of the first wife is a mere detail, of no importance ; 
it would not trouble the new law-tinkers, in Malebolge, or the 
' Shrieking Sisterhood ' of the platforms. (Judges, whether wilde 
or jejeune, are zealous to effect each divorce with their rule nisi.) 
Behold in picturesque adumbration the promiscuous ' happy family ' 
desired by advocates of " free love ! " They begin by breaking the 
law, and afterwards agitate for retrospective legislation, to condone 
all past offences and legitimatize the misbegotten 'awkward results.' 

The Lust)/ Miller s Recreation. 617 

The Commons, being a Barkis that is always 'willin' to secularize 
plunder, would cheerfully bring in a ' short Bill,' a One-clause Act, 
to the effect that " Anybody may marry every woman he chooses ; 
not excepting his great-grandmother, ' his sisters, his cousins, and 
his aunts ' ; without impediment, and as frequently as may suit 
his humour." An unlimited number of wife's sisters could thus 
be accommodated. The Peggy, the Betty, the Jenny of the 
ballad, even their mother also, can all be married to the lusty 
Miller Robin without delay ; whenever Dr. Tristram Shandy issues 
a comm. gen. license, on receipt of the coveted fees, commanding 
that the weddings of divorced rakes be solemnized in a cathedral. 

Jeremy Collier was reported to have declared that the ' Seven 
bishops' of 1688, Septem contra Ccesarem, while imprisoned at 
the Tower of London, wrote the ' Miller's Recreation ' in an 
effort to restore their flagging courage, terrified at Popery. If so, 
they must have shown more foresight than our modern prelates. 
"VVe doubt their tpualifications. " What made them so wonderful 
clever?" We believe the ballad was issued earlier than 1685. 
This date disposes of Lake, of Ken, and of Jonathan Trelawney. 

Jeremy Collier attacked Tom D'Urfey in a scurrilous ' Short 
View of the Immorality 'and Prophanencss of the English Stage, 1 1 697. 
We can conceive the grimly controversial Non-Juror unbending 
his austerity into mirthful humour. He loved to dabble secretly 
in the ribaldries of the drama, while affecting to abhor them. 
Such mock-purity is common enough among prurient prudes and 
hired informers. Honest Tom D'Urfey made rejoinder, with preface 
and song, to music by Henry Purcell, in The Campaigners (viz. 
''New Reformation begins thro' the Nation," etc.), 1698 — 

" Time-phrensy-Curers and stubborn Nonjurors, 
For want of diversion, now scourge the leud Times ; 
They 've hinted, they 've printed, our vein it profane is, 

And worst of all crimes : 
Dull clod-pated Railers, smiths, Colliers, and tailors, 

Have damn'd all our rhimes. 
Under the notion of Zeal for Devotion, 
The humour has fired 'em, or rather inspired 'em, 

To Tutor the Age," etc. — Pills, ii, 45. 

Note. — In these morbid temptations of libertines, to seduce or to marry a 
wife's sister, it is rare for the evil to bave commenced so late as the wife's 
decease. It began with evil covetousness, of earlier growth. The infamy of 
Monmouth's friend, the notorious Lord Grey, of Werk, was noticed in vol. v, 
pp. 333, 387. 'The Unhappy Lady of Hackney' (Eoxb. Coll., Ill, 800, 
vide post 'Female Ramblers' 1 ) shows the fatal results of such incestuous 
passion, even as in Grey's case, during the lifetime of the wretched profligate's 
lawful wife. Shelley, in bis ' Laon and C'//thna,' wantonly defied the wholesome 
instinct of humanity. Despite the beauty of his poetry, bis own conjugal 
offences formed a painful commentary on his looseness of principle. Nothing 
can palliate or extenuate these outrages of the moral and religious law. 


[Roxb. Coll., II, 329 ; Euing, 157; Douce, II, 140 ; Jer., II, 153=Lind., 461.] 

Zijt 3lu&t£ £t9iUtr's i&ecrcatton; 

Being a most pleasant Design rjettoeen a certain ffcTiller, the 
(Soorj liltfe, anti ijcr JUjrce ©aurrhtcrs. & most ©electable 
Neixi iconer. 

Fair Peggy first to tb' Mill with Grist was sent, 

Who pleas'd return'd, but would not tell tb' event ; 

Which Betty, once perceiving, needs must go, 

Who, sped in the same Tune, returned too ; 

At which the Mother knew not what to guess, 

And did her self to admiration bless ; [ad. = wonder. 

Till Jenny, of the Three the youngest Lass, 

Would needs go see how all this came to pass; 

Returns the same : then forth' the Mother set, 

"Who finds the Plot, but ne 'r discovered it. [i.e. revealed. 

To a Pleasant New Tune. [For the music, see Pills to p. Melancholy, i, 185.] 

rV~Ke Good-Wife her Daughter did send to the Miller, 
J. To grind her Grist neatly, and for to come back ; 
But little imagined how full he [might] fill her, 

To fill up [fair Peggy~\ as full as her sack. 
And when she came home her wits were berich'd, 
Her Mother did think she had been bewitch'd ; 
She ask'd her where she had been loyt'ring all day ? 
But this was all that the Daughter would say, 

"Ay, marry, Sir, there 1 s a brave Miller, indeed! " 

Quoth Betty to Peggy : " Youi back is all whited ! 

What has the Miller done ? pray tell me truth. 
If you have been wronged, then, you shall be righted, 

For I have heard say, he 's a mad merry youth." 
Said Peggy to Petty, " Your suit is in vain ! " 
For Peggy o' th' Miller would never complain ; 
For what they could do, by night or by day, 
Still this is all that the Daughter would say, 

"Ay, marry, Sir, there 's a brave Miller, indeed ! " 

Next morning sweet Betty, fair Peggy s own sister, 

Would venture her bo[ldl]y, whatever befell ; 
But how finely the Miller he hug'd her and kiss'd her, 

That in a while after [caused Humour to] swell. 
And for to come back again, home she did come, ["'"• 

And stood like an Image, both senseless and dumb ; 
For she being loath for to [own] her sweet play, 
This to her Mother the Daughter would say, 

"Ay, marry, Sir, there's a brave Miller, indeed! " 

The Lust// Miller's Recreation. 619 

" Alas ! " quoth the Woman, "my other poor daughter! 

For she is bewitch'd, as I greatly fear ; 
But I will take care how I send them hereafter, 

If Millers prove Witches, as it doth appear. 
Then Bessy and Peggy, come, speak your minds freely, 
And let not your selves be thus simple and silly." 
Yet for what she could do, by night or by day, 
This it was all that the Daughters would say, 

"Ay, marry, Sir, there's a brave Miller, indeed/ " 

" Woe 's me ! " cries the Mother, " what mean you by this ? " 

My daughters, pray tell me, for fain I would know. 
I' faith, if you will not, I '11 find what it is, 

For unto the Miller I mean for to go." 
At which, up starts Jenny, the younge[st] o' th' three, 
And said: "Nay, pray Mother, for this time send me! 
l'le warrant you that I will find out the knack, 
And bring you the meaning oft, when I come back : 

'Ay, marry, Sir, there's a brave Miller, indeed ! ' " 

Then cries the Old Woman: " Once more I will venter: O'c 

I know thou art witty, and wilt find, no doubt, 
The meaning of all! " So on horseback she sent her; 

But when Jenny came there, she long held not out. 
But under the [spell] with much pleasure she fell, 
While the Miller so merrily work'd [at his] wheel, 
Where she held him tack, till her grist it was ground ; [at bay. 
Then home she came jogging, and utter'd this sound, 

"Ay, marry, Sir, there's a fine Miller, indeed!'" 

" 'Tis sure," cries the Mother, " my daughtei's are mad ! 

I 'le find out the cause on 't, whatever betide. 
At home you shall stay, and abroad no more gad, 

For I to the Miller intend for to ride. 
Go, pannel me Dun, now, and make no reply ! " 
At which Peggy, starting, " O Mother ! " did cry 
(As loath the Old Woman should know of the game) : 
" Pray go not, for fear you bewitch'd sing the same : 

'Ay, marry, Sir, here 's a brave Miller, indeed ! ' 

" Alas! my dear Mother! the Miller is wild, 

And if you should go, he may do you much harm." 

" Nay, worse! " quoth sweet Petty, "you 'chauce may be spoil'd, 
For he is distracted, when once he is warm. 

A spirit does haunt him : I know it full well, 

Which nothing can lay but a two-[hand]ed spell! 

Then should it get power on you, I 'm afraid 

You'll be bewitched, so to say, as we 've said, 

'Ay, marry, Sir, here 's a brave Miller, indeed ! ' 

620 The Lusty Miller's Recreation. 

" Nay ! Mother," quoth Jenny, " they are in the right, 

For he 's a Mad Miller, I needs must declare : 
So furious he works, that the [cogs] often smite. 

Though the [meal-sack] be till'd, yet he will not forbear." 
" Ods-bobs ! " quoth the Mother, " such Millers I love ; 
[They work with good will, wherever they move.] [Dropi line. 

Then tell me the cause, or no longer I 'le stay, 
How he hath bewitch'd you ? thus onely to say, 

'Ay, marry, Sir, here's a brave Miller, indeed /'" 

Quoth Jenny, " I ' le go, and I 'le ask him the cause ! " 
" Nay ! soft," quoth sweet Betty, " I 'm older than you ; 

'Tis my turn, I 'le warrant, by birth-right and laws." 

" Come, come, hold your prating ! " quoth Pey, " 'tis my due. 

For I 'le not be robb'd, I 'm resolv'd, of my right, 

But the grist to the Mill I will carry, this night." 

" In vain you design it, unless we go all " 

(Quoth Jenny), "for I 'le declare what did befall : 

Ay, marry, Sir, here's a brave Miller, indeed/ " 

The Mother, observing the strife grow so hot, 

Ne'er stay'd for her Pannel, but mounting astride, [=panneau. 
By kicking and whipping of Bun she soon got 

To the Miller's, who, seeing her, took her aside, 
And spreading his sacks, [without blame] he delay'd her, 
"While in the same coin on purpose he pay'd her ; 
While the [Mill-vanes] run round, and merrily play'd, 
Till her grist was well ground : then, returning, she said, 
"Ay, marry, Sir, here 's a brave Miller, indeed ! " 

Then long it was not ere their [fortunes] did swell, 
Peyy's, Betty's, and Jenny's, the Mother's likewise : 

But none of them could be persuaded to tell 

What Champion of Venus 'twas made them to rise. 

But still the bold Miller they prais'd for his worth, 

Who toll-free would never let [any] come forth, 

But labour'd to serve them, by night and by day ; 

While all the brisk Lasses this of him did say, 

"Ah ! marry, Sir, there 's a fine Miller, indeed ! " Jt'nt's. 

Printed for Philip Broolcsby, in West- Smith field. 

[Black-letter. Two small cuts : 1st, the woman, p. 545 ; 2nd, man in a cloak. 
Date, between 1672 and 10S9.] 

The presumed authorship of the "We are Seven" Bishops 
remains doubtful. It was a stupendous jest ; made in prospective 
judgment of those weak-kneed culprits who are impatient to enter 
into ambiguous wedlock with a gang of wives' sisters, whether 
deceased, divorced, or merely ' Women with a past.' 

Tom D'Urfey's version, ' The Jolly Miller: 621 

The ballad of 'The Lusty Miller's Recreation' is somewhat broad 
in treatment, but there were worse things in the puritanic sermons 
of the day, and it was meant to be ' a Moral Apologue ! " 

This adventure of three sisters at the Mill is a twice-told tale : 
compare Tom D'Urfey's short version, called "The Jolly Miller," 
sung in his Comical Adventures of Bon Quixote, Part Three, 1696, 
beginning, "The Old Wife she sent to the Miller her daughter" 
{Pills to p. Melan., i, 186). It was sung by Mrs. Yerbruggen, as 
Mary the Buxom, in Act iii, Sc. 2. This does not extend to the 
mother's visit, and has many great variations from the Roxburghe 
broadside. It is improbable that D'Urfey wrote both versions. 
We suppose him to be the imitator and condenser into four stanzas 
of the longer, and (almost certainly) earlier ballad. On the other 
hand, no person who was clever enough to write ' The Lusty 
Miller's Recreation,' could have voluntarily sacrificed such a 
racy and catching refrain as the one belonging to the ' Don Quixote ' 
stanzas. On the inadmissible supposition of these having been 
sung antecedently to the broadside version, he could not haVe 
changed it into the comparatively tame burden of " Ay, marry, 
Sir, there's a brave Miller, indeed. 1 '''' The accumulative force of 
D'Urfey' s refrain would thus be lost. Stanza by stanza it had 
grown more impressive. Nelly is the first who goes to the mill. 

" Young Rnbin so pleas'd her that, when she came home, 
She gaped like a stuck Pigg, and stared like a Home. 
She hoyden'd, she scamper'd, she holloa'd and whoop'd, 

And all the day long, this, this teas her song, 
1 Hoy ! was ever poor maiden so lericompoop' d ? ' 

Tempted by curiosity, Celie next makes the adventure. 

" She came cutting capers, a foot and half high, 

She waddled, she straddled, she holloa'd and whoop'd ; 

And all the day long, this, this was her song, 
' Hoy ! were ever tivo sisters so lericompooped ? ' 

" 'then Mary o' th' Dairy, a third of the number, 
Would fain know the cause they so jigg'd it about; 
The Miller her wishes long would not incumber, 
Rut in the old manner the secret found out. 
Thus Celie and Nelly and Mary the mild 
Were just about harvest time all, etcetera. 
They danc'd in the Hay* they halloa'd and whoop'd, [Note. 

And all the day long, this, this icas her song, 
1 Hoy ! were ever three sisters so lericompoop' d ? ' 

* Note. — ' Danced in the Hay,'' a well-known quick-step County dance. Not 
' among the hay' ; for it was harvest-time. The merry Song entitled ' Love in 
a Burn ? or, Eight Country Courtship ' (Ilalliwell Coll. Chap-books), reads thus: 

" But still reply'd the Country Girl, < I 've something more to say ; 
Amongst the ladies I can't dance, except it were the Hay.'' ' 


[Pepys Coll., Ill, 110 ; C. 22, e. 2, 49 ; Jersey, I, 326=Lindes., 416.] 

<&mt etounn at last; or, 

^Lf)t fi'olitli in tijt spill* 

Millers, that grind each pretty Lasse's grist, 

Consider now how many yon have kist ; 

And see if any with kind Molly can 

Compare : if not, pray all from hence be gone. 
Yet stay and hear the song, 'tis rare and new, 
And Millers know such things are often true. 

Tune, Give ear a while, or, The Winchester Wedding. [Vol. vii, p. 288.] 

Give ear a while to my Ditty, all you that intend to be merry ; 
I '11 give you a song that 's witty, of which you will never be weary. 
The matter, I plain must tell ye, is of a conceit refin'd, 
The pretty device of Molly, who has so often been kind. 

Sales old Symon the King ; saies old Symon the King : [Cf. vi, 276. 
With a thread-bare [hose] and a malmsey nose, 
Sing hey ding ding, a ding ding. 

She went to the Mill with her Grist, to see it most neatly ground, 

But found the Miller i' the mist, for his mill-stones would not go round ; 

He try'd and he try'd again, but he could not make them obey, 

His labour he lost in vain, and could not tell what to say. Saies old, etc. 

She takes the matter in hand, as loath of any delay ; 

While the Miller amazed did stand, she thus unto him did say : 

" Come, hoist up the canvas with speed, and I '11 make the [wheels] go round ; 

[When] the cogs from cobwebs are freed, my Grist will quickly be ground." 

Then strait the sailes were drawn up, expos'd to the weather and wind, 
When as the Miller a top the weather-vane right did find. 
Yet found the motion but small, which made him begin to misdoubt 
That he should do nothing at all, for Molly began to pout. 

But urging her Grist to be ground, the fault she long search'd to know, 
And the vice of the mill she found ; for why ? the stones were too low. 
Then gently she moved the beam, and settled the [sacks] in their place, 
When round the sailes did skim, and her Grist was ground apace. 

" More sacks to the Mill! " wasthecry! " let's now work, and save the wind" ; 
But at last the Miller lay by, he had no more Grist to grind. 
But glad was to find one so witty, to help him out at a dead lift, 
Swearing that none so pretty had e're set his Mill adrift. 

But let them say all what tliey will, Molly '« the best of the crew. 
Saies old Symon the King, saies old Symon the King, etc. 

Printed for /. Clarke, W. Thackeray, and T. Passenger. 

[Black-letter. Four woodcuts : 1st, the girl, p. 635 ; 2nd. man, vi, 52 ; 3rd, 
two lovers kissing, reverse of iii, 619 ; 4th, windmill, p. 625. Date, 1684.] 



[Roxburghe Collection, III, 237 verso. Apparently unique.] 

31ll*gotten ^oot)0 seinom Cfjrtoc; 

©r, Wtft Cnrrlfsrj gfatfcft. 

For Dick, that was a Miller by his Trade, 

Did think to be a swaggering roaring Blade ; 

He bought brave Clothes, and powdered all bis haire, 

But [he was] serv'd in's kind for medling with light ware. 

The Tune is, Was ever [a] Young-man Crost ? 

ALustie Countrie Lad, that lately came to Towne, 
His pockets were so clad with many a silver crowne : 
A Miller by his Trade, his dwelling is at Boiv, 
A place of much resort, as sundry people know. 

But Dick, the Miller's sonne, thatpowder'd all his haire, 
Alas ! he is undone, by medling with light ware. 

He bought a perry-wig. a gallant suit of clothes, 

Which was bestrew'd with Musk, more sweeter than a Rose, 

A cambrick Band and Cuffs, his halfe-shirt out before, 

His breeches had of ribbons at least a dozen score 
But Dick, the Miller's sonne, etc. 

A Beaver, and a feather, the crown did over-top, 
With ribbons round about, like a Haberdasher's shop ; 
He bought a paire of Boots, with huge and mighty toes, 
The size was twenty-foure, which peept up to his nose. 

[Sic 2)assim. 

624 111- gotten Goods seldom thrive. 

A Rapier by his side, against his Spurs did clap : 
At last he met a Lasse, that prov'd a cuuning snap : 
His Cloake about his middle, most brave he wore the same ; 
And walking in Moore-fields he met a Venus dame. 

She rustled in her Silks, as she by him did passe, 

And after, as I heard, she serv'd him like an Asse : 

" Good-morrow, Sir ! " quoth she, which made young Dick amaz'd ; 

To see her painted face, his spirits soone were rays'd. 

" Faire Mistris ! " then said Dick, " let's to the Taverne goe " ; 
Yet, like a Maiden chaste, at first she answer' d " No." 
Put Dick, opprest with lust, his spirits so did rise, 
That he did her request, and she no more denyes. 

Imagine how their time in merryment was spent, 
With kisses sweet and fine, which Richard did content : 
And with her apron-strings young Dick began to play, 
Yet she, with modest looks, cry'd " Pish ! nay fie ! away ! " 

So smoking of his nose, and drinking store of Sack, 
Thinking to have his will ; but his wits began to crack : 
So civilly to bed this loving [Toper] goes ; 
She left him fast asleepe, and stole away his clothes. 

The Vintner he came up, his reckoning for to have ; 
But Dick, not well awakt, did call him sawcie Knave : 
Put turning round about, and could no clothes espy, 
Then Richard soone was fore'd " Pcccavi ! " for to cry. 

The Yintner, much in rage, did strike him in the face, 
That Richard at that time was iu a [woeful] case ; 
And with his leg and feet he kickt him out of doore, 
And bid him, like a Rogue, goe, [and come back no m]ore. 

Thus naked home he went unto his Father's Mill, 
Where he was entertain'd, and doth continue still. 
When Richard took his Tole, he three times more did take, 
To buy him other Clothes (which she sold for his sake). 

Ill-gotten goods we're thrive ! take heed, you pilferers all, 

Lest you, like strutting Dick, to such mischances fall. 

Then, young men, have a enre of painted curled [maids], 

For such, though [they look] faire, may have [been pilfering jades.] 

But Dick, the Milk r's sunne, that poicder'd all his haire, 

-Litis! he is undone, by mailing with light ivare. 

London, Printed for W. Gilbertson. [Authore, Thomas Fairfax, Eboracensis.] 

[Black-letter. Two woodcuts : 1st, the rare original, with both figures joined, 
of vii, 140; 2nd, the couple, p. 623. MS. attribution of authorship is in 
very old handwriting. Date, 1640-63. This is ' Dick the Miller's Son,' 
No. 177, in Thackeray's List of Ballads which he kept in stock 1685 to 
1689. We had failed to identity it in 1878 when editing the Bagford Ballads, 
introduction, p. lxxvii, hut indicated it in Roxb. Ballads, vol. vi, part xvi, 
1886. The burden gives the clue. Three in the List are still to seek."] 


[Pepys Collection, III, 24. TrowbesK MS.] 

Roger tfje Miner's Present, 

Sent 62 tfje Jarmcr'g ©auflfjter to fits Cousin Tow tfje BEaglor 

tit London. 

The Miller lie was brisk and stout, and had the Maid beguil'd ; 
The Taylor still, against his will, is fore'd to keep the child. 

This may be printed, E[ichard] P[ocock, 1685-88]. 

To the Tune of, Billy and Molly, or, A Job for a Journey-man Shoe-maker. 

[See vol. vii, p. 471.] 

[ Woodcuts of ' Grist Ground at to, 'pp. 622, 628.] 

A Damsel came to London Town, just in the midst of Harvest, 
And she was in a Russet Gown, and seeking for a Service ; 
Tho' she of money was but bare, in this I must commend her, 
For being beautiful and fair, kind Fortune did befriend her. 

I pray you, listen now to me, in this that follows after ; 
I 'le tell her worthy Pedigree, she was a Farmer's Daughter. 
She often went with Grist to Mill, where Roger us'd to tease her ; 
When he had gain'd her kind good will, then sorrow 


sorrow soon did seize her. 

When he had got [what him bestead], poor heart, she straitway dreaded [horm. 
That he with her would never wed, because she had crack'd her credit : 
{Since he, alas ! did her betray, she ruin'd was, and undone, 
From all her friends she stole away, and Iravel'd up to London. 

As through the City she did pass, a Taylor chane'd to meet her ; 
She seemed like a proper Lass, therefore he did intreat her 
To tell him if she lackt a place, for he could soou advance her ; 
She s[mil]ed with a modest grace, returning him this answer : 

" The want of that is all my care 1 have this very hour ; 
No pains nor labour will I spare, but to my utmost power 
My mind is bent to give content, where e'er I shall be hired." 
" Well hast thou said, fair vertuous Maid : by me thou art admired." 
vol. viii. 2 s 

626 Roger the Millers Present to Tom the Tailor. 

Said he : "I will do what I can for thee, and 'tis but reason ; 

For why, I am a single man, and now this very season 

I have occasion for a Maid: sweet Damosel, then, come hither ! " 

" With all ray heart, kind sir," she said ; then home they went together. 

He doted on her beauty bright, and often would be billing, 
Still calling her his heart's delight, and said — was she but willing, 
He 'd make her now his lawful wife ; it was his will and pleasure : 
He promised her a happy life, with riches out of measure. 

She thought upon her former crime, therefore she yields to marry, 
As knowing it to be high time, no longer would she tarry ; 
And thus a hasty match they make, they did not stand long arguing : 
The Taylor, if 1 don't mistake, he had a thumping bargain. 

When seven weeks were gone and past, according to relation, 

His wife was brought to bed at last, a sudden alteration : 

He in a sweat did chafe and fret, so sorrow him surrounded ; 

To see his charge so soon enlarg'd, his heart with grief was wounded. 

The Taylor and the Miller, too, to end this disputation, 

They both are of the Filching crew, none nearer in relation : [= thieving. 

Therefore it seems the case is thus, [Roger] he did not much bewail her, 
Because the Child was now at nurse, with Tom his cousin Taylor. 

The Taylor he was a la mode, and of a genteel carrige ; 
He reapeth what the Miller sow'd, when being joynd in marriage. 
For why ? he meeting her full patt, her case, alas ! he pitied ; 
And now must keep the Miller's brat : pray is he not well fitted ? 

Printed for J. Blare, at the Looking-Glass, on London- Bridge. 
[Black-letter. Two cuts and a border-piece. Date, 1685-8.] 

The discomfiture of another licentious miller is twice-told: 1st, 
' The Witty Maid of the West,' beginning, " William the Miller, who 
lives in the West" vol. vii, p. 426, Roxb. Coll., II, 519); 2nd, 
earlier, ' The West-Country Crafty Maid,' now given. 

This miller, who " out-past the cobler " in evil repute, resembled the ' Lusty 
Lawrence of 1594 ': see p. 547. The Second Part tells of his punishment. In 
Wood's Coll. the tune is, not Partington s Found, wrongly cited in Pepys Coll. ; 
but properly, What should a young woman do with an old man ? (see p. 679). 

[Pepys Coll., IV, 17; Douce, II, 167 ; Wood's, E. 25, fol. 29 ; C. 22. e. 2, 
fol. 105; Jersey, I, 136=Lind., 1415.] 

C6e Crafty a^aft of tfje OTcst; ©r, 

2Ehc lustg brabe fHtllcr of the Western Parts fmclrj QTrapan'o : 
% metro nrin Song to fit Hounjjstnw ano JHafos. 

Tune, [ What should a young woman do ivith an old man ?]. Packing t on" 1 s Pound. 

YOu Millers, and Taylors, and Weavers, each one, 
I'd wish you to listen unto my new Song. 
Here a good example I open will lay 
Of a lusty brave Miller that late went astray : 
He out-past the Cobler, though he was so wild, [vol. vii, p. 135. 
In one week to get nine wenches [beguil'd]. 
Let Millers take heed how they mischief devise, 
Or deal ivith young wenches that's crafty and wise. 

The Crafty Maid of the West. 627 

This Miller was lusty, was stout, and was strong, 
And to many Maidens he did much wrong. 
If he met with a Lass who was fair to the eye, 
He 'd have a bout with her, or he would know why. 
He 'd smoothe up men's wives, if he see them willing, 
With a peck of wheat, or else an odd shilling. Let Millers, etc. 

There dwelt a young damosel both handsom' and fair, 
And many a suitor to her did repair ; 
Among all the rest this M iller would be 
A suitor unto her, and her would go see. 
An Innkeeper's servant this Maiden she was, 
Liit a Husbandman's-daughter, it so came to pass. Let Millers, etc. 

He put on his best clothes, and he powder'd his hair, [Cy.p.623. 
As if he had been some Gentleman's Heir; 
With his boots, and his spurrs, and his hanger so brave, 
And a lusty brave horse to carry this Knave. 
Thus, gentleman-like, from the top to the toe, 
Where this damosel did dwell the Miller did go. Let Millers, etc. 

He call'd for his chamber or a private room 

To speak with this M aid quickly and soon ; 

But when he espy'd her he did admire ; 

Her beauty at present set his heart on fire. 
" All haile, thou fair Virgin ! " the Miller did cry : 
" Grant me but your favour, or else I shall die." Let Millers, etc. 

The Damsel with modesty straightway reply'd, 
" What good I can do you it 's ne'er be deny'd.'' 
" Why, then, I will tell you, my fairest" (said he) : 
" It is but to have one night's lodging with thee. 
No silver or gold shall part us in twain, 
Besides a friend to thee I will remain : 
If thou dost prove true. I will marry thee ; 
Therefore, my sweet Virgin, take pity on me." 

[Seeing that he is a rogue, she resolves to punish him ; and thus replies : — ] 

" But first, I must tell you, I have made an oath, 
And now for to break it I am very loath, 
The first that ever in bed to I go, 
He must be stark naked, from top to the toe." 
" With all my heart, honey ! " the Miller replied ; 
" I like well thy motion : it 's ne'r be denied." 

" Besides" (said the damsel), " three pound in my hand, 
I mean for to have, if this bargain do stand.' ' 

2Tf)e Seconli Part. To the Same Ttxne. 

riHIe money he gave her unto her desire, 
_L [Since] all things she granted that he did desire. 
His bed she then sheeted, both handsome and brave, 
And finely trapanu'd this cheating young Knave. 
She mistrusted what pottage this Miller did mind, 
Which made the young maid to fit him in his kind. 
Let Millers take heed hoiv they mischief devise, 
Or deal with young wenches that 's crafty and wise. 

628 The Crafty Maid of the West. 

She got some horse-hair, and chop't very small, 
And some nettle-seeds to mix it withal ; 
She drest them, and sifted, and put them in bed : 
This was a good way to save her maidenhead, 
And when she had done it, away she went, 
And straitway sat by him, as [tho'] no harm she meant, 

" Remember your promise, sweet Lady ! " said he. 

" Your bed, Sir, is ready ! " then strait reply'd she. 

So this lusty brave Miller to bed then he goes, 
According to his promise he doft all his clothes, 
His breeches, his doublet, his shirt and his hat, 

For he was in hopes to have a bit for his cat. [Cf. p. 469. 

But he was deceived as it doth appear, 
But now all the cream of the jest you shall hear. Let Millers, etc. 

Long this brave M iller in bed did not lye, 
But he thought that his Sweet-heart would come by and by ; 
Instead of his Sweet-heart he rubb'd his eyes, 
His sides, back and belly ; yet loath for to rise. 
He scratched and rubbed, his clothes tore and rent, 
With fretting and sweating his breath almost spent ; 

At last out of bed he got, and he swore, 

As if [all] the room in pieces he 'd tore. 

The Tapster [came], seeing him naked to stand, 
He chanced to have a horsewhip in his hand. 
" For pity, now help ! " the Miller did cry. 
" That I will " (said the Tapster), "anon, by and by ! " 
He whipt him about the chamber so sore, 
Made him to be[-tramp] all the chamber floor. 
Because he perceived his actions were base, 
He ne'er pittied the Miller, but jeer'd in his face. 

The Maid she laugh' d at him, and thus did reply, 
" Sir, I was a-coming : why did you not lye ? " 

But the Miller he fretted, he curst, and he cry'd, 
" Must I lose my money, and be punish'd beside ? " 
" You're right enough serv'd," then straight reply'd she ; 
" Your money you n'er shall have more out of me. 

You [mu]st pay for your wit, tho' you thought me beguil'd. 

1 have cool'd his courage, for being so wild." 

The Miller himself no answer could make, 

But stood like a Bull that was baited at stake ; 

At last in a rage away he did ride, 

With his back all be-blister'd, and so was his side. 

The Maid was commended for serving him so, 

But the Miller is jeer'd by all that him know. 
Let Millers take heed hoiv they mischief devise, 
Or deal with young wenches that 's crafty and wise. 

Printed for P. Brookshy, at Golden-Ball, Pye-Corner. [By John Wade.] 

[Blaek-letter. Three cuts : 1st, the woman of vol. iii, p. 537 ; 2nd, young man, 
p. 652 ; 3rd, windmill, p. 625. Date of Brooksby's circd 1672 ; Wood's 
was earlier, signed by John Wade ; and printed for W. Thackeray, at the Sugar- 
Loaf: it bears a slightly different title, viz. ' The West- Country Crafty Maid.'] 

>°><oi>— ^-^ — 


Cf)e TBerfwWre Cragetip of tge CGtttam filler. 

THIS is a Berkshire variation of the tale (already reprinted, 
disjointedly, on pp. 68, 175) entitled, "The Oxfordshire 
Tragedy; or, The Virgin's Advice.' Therein the seducer who 
murders his victim is an Oxford Student of theology, but here he 
is a Miller of Wittam, probably Wittenham. Both ballads were 
sung to the same tune, and of date near 1700. 

The girl's ruin having been compassed by the Wittam Miller 
and made known to her mother, he is urged to repair the crime 
by marrying her. This he is unwilling to do. Instead of it, he 
allures her by night from her sister's door, where she has found 
refuge. Regardless of entreaties for mercy he murders her, and 
drags the body to the river. On his return to the mill his 
disordered condition is observed by the miller's man, and remembered 
against him when the continued absence of the girl rouses suspicion. 
Her body is found, and a coroner's inquest brings against him 
a verdict of wilful murder. A second time arrested, he is 
imprisoned at Beading, but falsely declares himself to be innocent : 
he is tried, condemned to death, and at last admits his guilt. 

[Roxburghe Collection, III, 802; Douce Coll., Ill, 1, verso.] 

C|)t IderftsJjire Crage&p; ©r, 

C&e Wittam filler. 

fflHitfj an Account of his ijfturbcrinn; ijfs Stocctheart. 
[To the Tune of, The Oxfordshire Tragedy, pp. 68, 175.] 

Young Men and Maidens, all give ear, to what I shall relate ; 
mark you well, and you shall hear, of my unhappy fate : 
Near unto famous Oxford town, I first did draw my breath — 
Oh ! that I had been cast away, in an untimely death. [text, birth. 

My tender parents brought me up, provided for me well, 
And in the town of Witt[_enh~\am then they placed me in a Mill. 
By chance upon an Oxford Lass I cast a wanton eye, 
And promis'd I would marry her, if she would with me lie. 

But to the world I do declare, with sorrow, grief, and woe, 
This folly brought us in a snare, and wrought our overthrow; 
For the Damsel came to me, and said — " By you I am with child : 
I hope, dear John, you '11 marry me, for you have me defil'd." 

Soon after that her Mother came, as you shall understand, 
And oftentimes did me persuade to wed her out of hand ; 
And thus perplex'd on every side, I could no comfort find : 
So for to make away with her a thought came in my mind. 

630 The Berkshire Tragedy : the Wittam Miller. 

About a month from Christmas — oh, cursed he the day ! — 
The Devil then did me persuade, to take her life away. [p. 509. 

I call'd her from her sister's door, at eight o'clock at night : 
Poor creature ! she did little dream I ow'd her any spite. 

I told her, if she 'd walk with me aside a little way 
"We both together would agree about our Wedding-day. 
Thus I deluded her again into a private place, 
Then took a stick out of the hedge, and struck her in the face. 

But she fell on her bended knee, and did for mercy cry, 
" For heaven sake, don't murder me ! I am not fit to die." 
But I on her no pity took, but wounded her full sore, 
Until her life away I took, which I can ne'er restore. 

With many grievous shrieks and cries, she did resign her breath, 
And in inhuman, barbarous sort I put my love to death. 
And then I took her by the hair, to cover this foul sin, 
And dragg'd her to the river side, and threw her body in. 

Thus, in the blood of innocence my hands were deeply dy'd, 
And shined in her purple gore, that should have been my Bride. 
Then home unto my Mill I ran, but sorely was amaz'd ; 
My man he thought I had mischief done, and strangely on me gaz'd. 

" Oh ! what's the matter?" then said he, " you look as pale as 
death. [breath ? 

"What makes you shake and tremble so, as tho' you 'd lost your 
How came you by that blocd upon your trembling hands and 

I presently to him reply'd, " By bleeding at the nose ! " 

I wistfully upon him look'd, but little to him said, p. wish. 

But snatch' d the candle from his hand, and went unto my bed ; 
Where I lay trembling all the night, for I could take no rest, 
And perfect flames of hell did flash within my guilty breast. 

Next day the damsel being rniss'd, and no where to be found, 
Then I was apprehended soon, and to the Assizes bound. 
Her sister did against me swear, she reason had, no doubt, 
That I had made away with her, because I call'd her out. 

But Satan did me still perswade, I stiffly should deny ; 
Quoth he, " There is no witness can against thee testify." 
Now when her Mother she did cry, I scoffingly did say, 
" On purpose then to frighten me, she sent her child away." 

I publish'd in ' The Post- Boy ' then (my wickedness to blind), 
" Five Guineas any one should have, that could her body find." 
But Heaven had a watchful eye, and brought it so about 
That, though I stiffly did deny, this murder would come out. 

The Berkshire Tragedy : the Witiam Miller. 631 

The very day before the Assize, her body it was found, 
Floating before her Father's door, at Henley -Ferry Town. 
So I the second time was seiz'd, to Oxford brought with speed, 
And there examined again about the bloody deed. 

Now the Coroner and jury both together did agree 
That this damsel was made away, and murdered by me. 
The Justice he perceiv'd the guilt, no longer would take bail, 
But the next morning I was sent away to Reading Gaol. 

When I was brought before the Judge, my man did testify 
That blood upon my hands and cloath[e]s that night he did espy. 
The Judge he told the jury then, " The circumstance is plain : 
Look on the prisoner at the bar ! He hath this creature slain ! " 

About the murder at the first the Jury did divide, 
But when they brought their verdict, all of them " Guilty ! " cry'd. 
The Jailor took and bound me strait, as soon as I was cast ; 
And then within the prison strong he there did lay me fast. 

With fetters strong then I was bound, and shin-bolted was I ; 
Yet I the murder would not own, but still did it deny. 
My Father did on me prevail, my kindred all likewise, 
To own the murder : which I did, to them, with watery eyes. 

My Father he then did me blame, saying, " My Son, oh ! why 
Have you thus brought your self to shame, and all your family ? " 
" Father, I own the crime I did, I guilty am indeed ; 
Which cruel fact, I now confess, doth make my heart to bleed. 

" The worst of deaths I do deserve, my crime it is so base, 
For I no mercy shew'd to her ; most wretched is my case. 
Lord ! grant me grace, while I do stay, that I may now repent, 
Before I from this wicked world most shamefully am sent." 

Young Men, take warning by my fall: all filthy lust defy ! 
By giving way to wickedness, alas ! this day I die. 
Ijord ! wash my hateful sins away, which have been manifold ; 
Have mercy on me, I thee pray, and Christ receive my soul ! 

London : Printed and sold at Sympson's Printing-Office, in Stonecutter 

Street, Fleet-Market. 

[White-letter. Two cuts: girl lying dead ; man hanging. Probably a reprint, 
originally of date circa 1700. Compare p. 629 and ' Oxfordshire Tragedy.' 
In the Roxburghe Collection broadside is no division into stanzas, but wc run 
on the halt-Hues to save space. The next broadside ballad on the ' Rogueries 
of Millers' is dated 1718.] 


C{je 15arnatti=Ca0tIe Cragen^ 

" Of two constant Lovers, as I understand, 

[Who] were born near Appleby, in Westmoreland, 
The lad's name Anthony, Constance the lass, 
To sea they went both, and great dangers did pass : 
How they suffer'd ship-wrack on the coast of Spain, 
For two years divided, and then met again, 
By wonderful fortune and bare accident ; 
And now both live at home with joy and content." 

New Northern Story, Constance and Anthony. 

ANOTHER licentious and cruel Miller appears in ' The 
Barnard- Castle Tragedy,' and closes the Group. The tune 
here misnamed Constant Anthony helongs to the ' Admirable 
Northern Story, Constance and Anthony,'' beginning, " Two Lovers 
in the North, Constance and Anthony, Of them I will, '"set forth 
a gallant history " {Roxburgh^ Ballads, vol. i, p. 24, where^the 
earlier name of the tune is cited as ' / would thou ivert in 
Shrewsbury* For the ballad which furnished this refrain, I would 
give a thousand pound thou icert in Shrewsbury, see ' The Valiant 
Commander and his Lady,' reprinted in vol. vi, p. 281). 

There is singular appropriateness in the choice of the tune, Constance 
and Anthony, for this later ' Barnard-Castle Tragedy,' so far as it 
concerns the locality, insomuch as the same Appleby in AVestmore- 
land figures in both ballads. The tune had been still earlier known 
as Dainty, come thou to me, concerning which see vol. vi, p. 773. 

Beside these Roxburghe Ballads, another murder is told in the ballad ' The 
Bloody Miller : being a true and just account of one Francis Cooper, of Hocstow, 
near Shrewsbury, who was a Miller's servant, and kept company with one 
Anne Nicols for the space of two years, who then proved to be with child by 
him : being urged by her Father to marry her, he most wickedly and barbarously 
murdered her, as you shall hear by the sequel. Tune of, Alack ! for my Love 
[I must die'].'' It begins, " Let all pretending Lovers." (Pepys Coll., II, 156.) 
The burden is, i" for my transgression must dye. Compare p. 70, ' And for 
mine offence 1 must dye ' : but ' The Downfall of William Grismond ' has for tune 
the unidentified Where is my Love? not possibly the same as " Where is my 
Shepherd, my Love ? heigho ! " for which see ' Cupid's Victory over the Virgins' 
hearts,' in vol. iii, 554. For the tune of Alack .'for my love I must die, see p. 120. 

So long ago as 1877, in The Bay ford Ballads, pp. 527 to 533, 
' Rogueries of Millers' were mentioned. One (reprinted on p. 530) 
was ' The Unfortunate Miller ; or, The Country Lasse's Witty 
Invention,' whereby she preserves her own innocence and secures 
his punishment. The story resembles ' The Westminster Frolic ' and 
' The Wanton Vintner ' (see pp. 475 to 481). The transposition of 
the girls reappears in the ballad of 'A Cuckold by Consent': 
" Friends, will it please you to hear me tell ? " 


[Roxburghe Collection, III, 797; Madden Coll., Camb. Univ. Lib.] 

Ct)e BarnarD*Castle CrageDp: 

Sfjcint'ng f)oln one John Atkinson of Murton, near Appleby, Scrbant 
to Thomas Sbwson, fHtllcr, at Barnard Castle, 33riticfE-lEntr, 
rourtcb tljc safo Jlowson's Sister ; anb, after be ftab gafnetj Ijcr 
entire Affection bp_ bis fob ceb ling soltcttntfons, left Jjcr biscon* 
solatc, anb maoe courtship to another, ialjam ije ntarricb bu tlje 
trcacljerous abb ice of one Thomas Skelton, irdjo to sabc tht priest's 
fees, etc., performed tfic ccrcmonp himself ; anb upon Ijcr [oisplaccb 
rfbal, Betty H.owson~\ Rearing tbc ncins, [she] broke fjer heart, 
anb bleb to bcatfj on the spot. Cljt's being botlj true anb tragical, 
'tis hopcb 'ttotll be a toa ruing to all 3Lobers. 

Tune of, Constance and Anthony. [Text, Constant A., see p. 632.] 

Young men and maidens all, I pray you now attend ; 
Mark well this Tragedy, which you find here penn'd : 
At Barnard- Castle, Bridge-end, an honest man lives there, 
His calling grinding corn, for which few can compare. 

He had a sister dear, in whom he took delight, 
And Atkinson, his man, woo'd her both day and night; 
Till thro' process of time he chained fast her heart, 
Which prov'd her overthrow, by Death's surprising dart. 

False-hearted Atkinson, with his deluding tongue 
And his fair promises, he's this poor maid undone ; 
For when he found he'd caught her fast in Cupid's snare, 
Then made he all alike, Betty 's no more his dear. 

Drinking was his delight, his senses [for] to doze, 
Keeping lewd company when [that] lie should repose ; 
His money being spent, and they would tick no Score, 
Then, with a face of brass, he ask'd poor Betty [for] more. 

He at length met with one, a serving-maid in town, 
Who for good ale and beer often would pawn her gown ; 
And at All-Fours she 'd play, as many people know; 
A fairer gamester [than was she] no man could ever show. 

Tom Skelton, ostler, at the ' King's-Arms ' does dwell, 
To who[m] this false Atkinson did all his secrets tell; 
He let him understand of a new Love he 'd got, 
And with an oath he swore she 'd keep full the pot. 

631 The Barnard- Castle Tragedy. 

Then for the girl they sent, Betty Hardy was her name, 
Who to her Mistress soon an excuse did frame : 
" Mistress, I have a friend, at the King's Arms doth stay, 
Which I desire to see before he go away." 

Then she goes to her friend, who[m] she finds ready there, 
Who catch.' d her in his arms — " How does my only dear ? " 
She says, " lioys, drink about, and fear no reckonings large ! " 
For she had pawn'd her smock, to defray the charge. 

They did carouse it off, till they began to warm ; 

Says Skelton, "Make a match, 1 pray [you]: where's the harm?" 

Then with a loving kiss they straightway did agree ; 

But they no money had, to give the priest a fee. 

Quoth Skelton, seriously : " The Priest's fee it is large : 
I 'le marry you my self, and save you all the charge." 
Then they plight their troth unto each other there, 
Went two miles from the town, and go to bed, we hear. 

Then when the morning came, by breaking of the day, 
He had some corn to grind, he could no longer stay ; 
" My business is in haste, which I to thee do tell " ; 
So took a gentle kiss, and bid his Love farewell. 

Now when he was come home, and at his business there 
His master's sister came, who was his former dear; 
" Betty " (he said), " I 'in wed, certainly I protest " ; 
Then she smil'd in his face, " Surely, you do but jest ! " 

Then within few days' space, his wife unto him went, 
And to the sign o' th' Last, there she for him sent ; 
The people of the house, finding what was in hand, 
Stept out immediately, let Betty understand. 

Now this surprising news caus'd her fall in a trance, 
Like as if she was dead, no limbs she could advance ; 
Then her dear Brother came, her from the ground he took, 
And she spake up and said, " my poor heart is broke ! " 

Then with all sp^ed they went, for to undo her lace, 
Whilst at her nose and mouth her heart's blood ran apace. 
Some stood half dead by her, others for help inquire; 
But in a moment's time, her Life it did expire. 

False-hearted Lovers all, let this a warning be ; 

Lor it we may well call "Betty IToivson's Tragedy." 

Printed for the Author in the year 1718. 
[White-letter. Two cuts: Maid's Funeral, p. 121 ; and the man of vii, 628.] 

: o : 


[Pepys Collection, V, 285.] 

C6e Constant iLaDp anD jFalsc=6catteti Squire : 

33cmcj a delation of a l&nujljt's Daughter neat ^Hooostocfc 
{Eaton, in ©xfcu'Csljfte. 

To A New Tune [second half-line, As I walk' 'd forth to take the air*]. 


Ear Woodstock town in Oxfordshire, as I walk'd forth to take the air, 
To view the fields and meadows round, methought I heard a mournful sound. 

Down by a crystal river side, a gallant Bower I espied, 

Where a fair Lady made great moan, with many a bitter sigh and groan. 

" Alas ! " (quoth she), "my Love's unkind ; my sighs and tears he will not mind ; 
But he is cruel unto me, which causes all my misery. 

" My Father is a worthy Knight, my Mother is a Lady bright ; 
And I their only child and heir : yet Love has brought me to despair. 

" A wealthy 'Squire lived nigh, who on my beauty cast an eye ; 
He courted me, both day and night, to be his Jewel and Delight. 

" To me these words he often said : ' Fair, beauteous, handsome, comely Maid, 
Oh ! pity me, I do implore, for it is you whom I adore.' 

" He still did beg me to be kind, and ease his love-tormented mind ; 
' For if,' said he, ' you should deny, for love of you I soon shall die.' 

" These words did pierce my tender heart : I soon did yield, to ease his smart; 
And unto him made this reply : ' For love of me you shall not die.' 

" "With that he flew into my arms, and swore I had a thousand charms ; 
He call'd me Angel, Saint: and he, for ever true to me would be. 

" Soon after he had gain'd my heart, he cruelly did from me part ; 
Another Maid he does pursue, and to his vows he bids adieu. 

" 'Tis he that makes my heart lament, he causes all my discontent ; 
He hath caus'd my sad despair, and now occasions this my care." 

The Lady round the meadow run, and gather' d flowers as they sprung ; 
Of every sort she there did pull, until she got her apron full. 

" Now there's a flower," she did say, " is named Hear? s-ease, night and day ; 
I wish I could that flower find, for to ease my love-sick mind. 

" But oh, alas ! 'tis all in vain for me to sigh and to complain ; 

There 's nothing that can ease my smart, for his disdain will break my heart." 

The green ground served as a bed, and flowers, a pillow for her head ; 
She laid her down, and nothing spoke : alas ! for love her heart was broke. 

But when I found her body cold, I went to her false love, and told 
"What unto her had just betel : " I 'm glad," said he, " she is so well. 

" Did she think I so fond could be, that I could fancy none but she ? 
Man was not made for one alone ; I took.delight to hear her moan." 

<) wicked man ! I find thou art, thus to break a Lady's heart : 

In Abraham's bosom may she sleep, while thy wicked soul doth weep ! 

* Note. — This second ' Oxfordshire Tragedy ' is not in the Roxburghe Coll. 
It was sung to a well-known tune (see Popular Music, p. 191 ; sung also to 
" As our King lay musing on his bed" — our vol. vi, p. 744). It is deceptive 
in its later issue as a ' Garland' (Douce Coll., Ill, 70 verso, and Lindes., 865); 
yet thus reprinted in the National English Airs, 1838, p. 123, viz. Four l'arts. 

636 A Second Oxfordshire Tragedy. 

[E\}t Seconti $art, To the Same Tune.] Ei}Z Sfoafocr. 

A Second Part I bring you here, of the Fair Maid of Oxfordshire, 
Who lately broke her heart for love, of one who did inconstant prove. 

A youthful 'Squire, most unjust, when he beheld this Lass at first, 
A solemn thousand vows he made, and so her yielding heart betray' d. 

She mourning broke her heart, and dy'd, feeling the shades on every side ; 
"With dying groans and grievous cries, as tears were flowing from her eyes. 

The beauty which did once appear on her sweet cheeks, so fair and clear, 
Was waxed pale ; her life was fled : he heard at length that she was dead. 

He was not sorry in the least, but cheerfully resolv'd to feast ; 
And quite forgot her beauty bright, whom he so basely ruin'd quite. 

Now when, alas ! this youthful Maid within her silent tomb was laid, 
The Squire thought that all was well, he should in peace and quiet dwell. 

Soon after this he was possest with various thoughts, that broke his rest ; 
Sometimes he thought her groans he heard, sometimes her ghastly Ghost appear'd, 

With a sad visage, pale and grim, and ghastly looks she cast on him ; 
He often started back, and cry'd : " Where shall I go, my self to hide ? 

" Here I am haunted, night and day : sometimes, methinks I hear her say : 
1 Perfidious man ! false and unkind, henceforth you shall no comfort find.' 

" If through the fields I chance to go, where she receiv'd her overthrow, 
Methinks I see her in despair, and, if at home, I meet her there. 

" No place is free of torment now : alas ! I broke a solemn vow, 
Which once I made ; but now, at last, it does my worldly glory blast. 

" Since my unkindness did destroy my dearest love and only joy, 
My wretched life must ended be : now must I die and come to thee." 

His Eapier from his side he drew, and pierc'd his body thro' and thro' ; 
So he dropt down in purple gore, just where she did some time before. 

He buried was within the grave of his true-love. And thus you have 
A sad account of his sad fate, who died in Oxfordshii e of late. 

London : Printed for R. B. near Fleet-Street. [White-letter. Date, circa 1686.] 

[Here was concluded the ballad-story of the Oxfordshire Knight's Daughter 
and her False-hearted Squire. It needed not the two other Parts that were 
conjoined to it, when issued as a 'Garland.' ' The Lover's Farewell* is a new 
departure, being the former case reversed, a distinct story ; its own sequel is 
4 The Lady's Lamentation ? It had appeared earlier in Hiack-letter (Pepy's 
Collection, III, 379), and we borrow the full title. The first and second stanzas 
of the ' Farewell' were, in 1688, with music by Robert King, published under 
a different title, viz. 'The Jealous Lover' (p. 54 of our Bagford Ballads). It 
is better, to avoid all misunderstanding, for us to reprint here the whole 
continuation, but with a preliminary caution that it is a distinct ballad from 
the one preceding. The tune is named on p. 412. R. B.=Richard Baldwin. 
The third and fourth parts were added, as a contrast to the first narrative, 
to lengthen it and double the price. The third part, also the fourth, her 
' Lamentation,' was twice issued as a separate ballad ; exemplars of each being 
preserved in the Pepysian Collection, viz. Vol. Ill, p. 379, and V, 315 : both 
distinct from Pep. Coll., V, 285. This is the true solution of the enigma, which 
had eluded the late William Chappell.] 


[Pepys Collection, III, 379, and V, 315 ; see Note, p. 638.] 

C6e OEsquite's Crage&p; HDr, 

5E|)c Unfortunate ILober's iFaretoell. 

To the Tune of, i" love you more and more each day. Licensed according to Order. 

" T?Orp:ive me if your looks I thought did once some change discover ; 
_1_ To be too jealous is the fault of every wounded Lover : 
My truth these kind reproaches show, which you do blame severely : 
A sign, alas ! you little know what 'tis to love sincerely. 

" The torments of a long despair I did in silence smother ; 
But 'tis a pain I cannot bear, to think you love another. 
My fate, alas ! depends on you ; I am but what you make me : 
Divinely blest, if you prove true ; undone, if you forsake me. 

" In thee I place my chief est Joy ; I seek no other pleasure : 
Then do not all my hopes destroy, who love thee out of measure. 
Forbear to triumph in disdain, since here I lie and languish : 
True love is a tormeuting pain, and fills my soul with anguish. 

" The silent night I spend in tears, and melting lamentation; 
But yet no glance of love appears, but utter detestation. 
Regarding not my piteous moan, my sighs, and sad lamenting, 
Your heart, as flint or marble stone, feels not the least relenting. 

' ' Your Beauty gave the fatal wound, and did at first allure me ; 
In chains of love I now lie bound, and you alone can cure me. 
Cast not a loyal love away, who at your feet lies bleeding ; 
Unto my sighs one smile convey, for which my tears are pleading. 

" Why should a charming beauty bright resolve to be so cruel ? 
Oh ! let me not be ruin'd quite, in Love's destroying fuel. 
See how my eyes like fountains flow, in crystal streams before thee ! 
So do not seek the overthrow of one who does adore thee. 

" Behold, I am thy captive Slave — thy wounded Slave, believe me ; 
And thou alone this life can'st save, and therefore now reprieve me. 
The wound you gave has pierc'd my heart, and you no pity will me ; 
Yet I cannot forbear to love, although with scorn you kill me. 

" If thus you are resolv'd to frown, and slight my friendly favour, 
Soon to my grave I will go down. Farewell, farewell, for ever ! 
I find she triumphs in disdain, and still denies me blessing : 
Why should I live to feel this pain, that is beyond expressing ? " 

This said, his naked sword he drew, and to his heart he sent it ; 
And, as he bid this world adieu, she bitterly lamented. 
Thus did she weep when 'twas too late (her tears could not restore him), 
Crying: " I was unfortunate. "Would I had died before him ! " 

?L|f0 ©tntttna Eatm's ILamcntnttcm for Ijfs Deatrj, foljen 'tirias too late. 

To the same Tune, I love you more and more each day. 

Nd is my valiant 'Squire gone, the glory of the Nation ? 

Then all my joys are from me flown : behold my Lamentation ! 
These eyes of mine like fountains flow, as here you may discover, 
Because I prov'd the Overthrow of an entire Lover. 

A ! 

G38 The Esquire's Tragedy. 

" Ten thousand times I wish in vain that I had never slighted 
My worthy 'Squire with disdain when he would fain have plighted. 
A solemn vow he made to me, he dearly did adore me ; 
But now 'tis to my grief I see he bleediug lies before me. 

" All in the frozen arms of Death, my loyal love lies sleeping ; 
Bereav'd of mortal life and breath : this causes all my weeping. 
My very heart for heaviness ere long to break asunder ; 
Nor am I able to express the grief that I lie under. 

" I must confess, I stood a while, and heard his mourning ditty, 
Without returning him a smile, or any glance of pity ; 
Because I was resolv'd to try his steadfastness of wooing : 
But little did I think that I should thus have been his ruin. 

" Upon the sword he laid his hand, in grief and desperation ; 
Conceal'd I could no longer stand, but straight, with admiration, 
More swift than eagle's wing I flew to him, and kisses gave him : 
But oh ! the sword was thro' and thro' ; alas ! I could not save him. 

" These words he utter'd as he died : ' Farewell, my dearest Jewel ! 
You should have been my lawful Bride, had you not been so cruel, 
To leave a Lover all alone, in sorrow broken-hearted : ' 
This said, then, with a dying groan, he instantly departed. 

" Bath'd in streams of purple gore, my weeping eyes beheld him ; 
My golden tresses then I tore, crying, ' My frowns have kill'd him.' 
For being of all hope bereft, Life's thread he vow'd to sever : 
Now, he is gone, and I am left to mourn his loss for ever. 

" But why should I presume to live here in this world behind him ? 
No ! no ! the fatal stroke I '11 give ; then I perhaps may find him 
In the Elysian Fields below, where bleeding Lovers wander, 
And still pour out the grief and woe, which here they once lay under." 

Then from his bleeding breast she dreiv the sivord, with might and power, 
Expressing of these mournful words : " Now comes the fatal hour 
That I must leave this world ! for why ? My Love has gone before me, 
The Pattern of true loyalty, who did in life adore me ! " 


Printed for /. Blare, at the Looking -Glass, on London-Bridge. 

[Black-letter. Four woodcuts. Date, circa 1684.] 

This is entitled 'The Knight's Tragedy,' etc., in Pepys Coll., IIT, 379, 
a blunder, probably, for ' The Knight's Daughter's Tragedy ' ; but it is virtually 
identical with the White-letter ballad called 'The Esquire's Tragedy,' Pepys 
Coll., V, 315; afterwards tacked onto the ' Oxfordshire Tragedy.' 

IT We have shown on p. 629 the connection of ' The Berkshire Tragedy' with 
the better-known ' Oxfordshire Tragedy ; or, The Virgin's Advice ' (already 
reprinted on pp. 68, 69, and 175). The Berkshire Tragedy fitly ranges itself 
among the ' Bogueries of Millers,' being an account of the same murder; 
committed by the so-called 'Jilt tarn Miller,' probably of Whittenham- Topping. 

Allusions have been made (on pp. 69, 411, 412) to the other 'Oxfordshire 
Tragedy; or, The Death of Four Lovers' (i.e. two lovers in the Parts 1 and 2, 
and two others in continuous Parts 3 and 4). It was therefore expedient to 
append this ballad, although it is quite distinct in subject from its namesake. 

tytxc cutis tljc ©roup, 

4 Cfje Eogueues of $®Mzk$s 


another Ballafc of I&ent. 

NE Kentish ballad, unique, yet of date not 
earlier than 1683, is entitled 'The Maidstone 
Miracle; or, The Strange Kentish Wonder: 
Being an account of a Charitable Farmer, who, 
by Divine Providence, had a vast crop of Corn 
(which grew in a field which was neither 
plow'd nor sow'd for several years) : it is being 
look'd upon to be a Reward of his Christian 
Charity,' etc. To the tune of Russell's Farewell 
(see vol. v, p. 690). It begins, " We have a 
God enthroned above" (Pepys Coll., II, 78). 
Printed for P. Brooksby at the Golden Ball, in Pye-corner. 

No more than a single exemplar remains of ' Hey for Horn-Pair ! ' 
1685 (already mentioned on p. 549, also in vii, 208, and now first 
reprinted on p. 665) ; or of another Kentish ballad, concerning 
' Sweet Susan of Ashford,' never yet reprinted. Although it has 
doubled its population in twenty years, P^e-proverbially 'Haughty 
Ashford,' could never rival Maidstone in liberality. It has a few 
sepulchral monuments of importance in its handsome old church, 
which is wedged tightly amid incongruous tenements. The High 
Street, of fair proportions, formezdy the market-place of the district, 
is graced with two quaintly-built blocks of Middle-Bow shops, 
similar to the ' Middle-Bow, Holborn.' Traditional folk-lore yields 
to Ashford the unenviable credit of being the 'Hub' or linch-pin or 
umbilicus of 'A Queer Neighbourhood.'' 

These lines are quite true about the purloined bells, the Monday- Boys' 
Wedding, the implied connection of bad farming with Barming-Heath County 
Lunatic Asylum, and the distraining for tithes at Staplehurst. Also concerning 
Brooke: where 'The Leper-Hole' through the chancel-wall looks straight 
towards the altar, from the churchyard, therein the parishioners who were 
afflicted with leprosy were accustomed to stand, gazing at the celebration of High 
Mass, in the good old Catholic days, and ready in turn to receive between 
their lips the consecrated wafer from the priest, they being forbidden to enter 
the church. At Old- Wives Lees, in Chilham parish, races were run on May 19th 
annually, by betrothed couples, hand in hand, competing for a prize of £20, which 
was to become the wedding dowry of the winners. It was to be done " without 
losing clasp, in smock and smicket," as by the charter of the founder, Sir Dudley 
Digges, 1638, not in puris naturalibus as reported, and drew crowds of spectators ; 
but it was discontinued circu 1864, the money being confiscated to appease the 
insatiate maw of the Education Ogre, ' the Schools.' Komney-Marsh traded 
successfully with France in Guinea-smuggling, so late as 1812 ; despite the 
revenue spies and severe penal laws, getting thirty shillings value for each 
exported coin, during Napoleon's time and the ' Guinea fever.' Even in 1817 
a guinea was equivalent to 27s. (See a full account of this traffic in Miss 
Julia H. L. De Vaynes' Kentish Garland; also 'The Guinea- Smugglers of tin' 
North-east Coast' in the late Walter Thornbury's Tales for the Marims.) The 
Kev. Hubert Harris Barham, author of The Ingoidsby Legend &n& Cousin Nicholas, 
was in 1817-1820 incumbent of Snargate ; Dr. Edw. Wilkinson, in 1870-82. 


3 duett jftcigpoiirbooti, 

Tkaditional Local Rhymes in the Weald of Kent. 

{Now first collected, painfully , from the oldest centenarians.) 

PRoud is Ashford, surly is Wye ; 
Lousy Kennington stands hard by. 

Break-neck Charing lies in a hole : 

It had but one bell, and that was stole' : 

At Monday -Boys 1 wedding it got a crack ; 

The ringer swore it should never go back. 

Molash had three bells, with music to fill 'em, 

But two were cut down by the thieves from Chilham, 

To buy pots of ale, and like swine to swill 'em. 

Chartham's thirst no liquor yet slaked; 

At Old Wives-Lees lad and lass ran [half] naked; [a.l. stark. 

To be married at Crundall up-hill they trundle, 

Unless, in the stink still, they dwelt at LLinxkill. 

There were lepers at Brooke, or the church mistook ; 

And curmudgeons at Smeeth, darkly gnashing of teeth : 

They would have betray'd the twinn'd Biddenden-Maid, 

Whose show-bread at Easter is well worth a tester. 

Romney '-Marsh smugglers, from Snare or Snaryate, 

ISnapt fingers at coast-guard 'twixt Dymchurch and Margate. 

If not lost in the dark at Eastwell Park, 

We can take our ease at Challock-Lees. 

One had better be hanged, for hen-roost or arson, 

Than distrained for tithes by the Staplelmrst parson. 

Poor Aluph Bouyhton was never well thought on ; 

To cripples at Smardm none gives a farden ; 

From Paddock- Wood there seldom came good ; 

LLoihfield and LLeadcom were known to be dead-born ; 

Mersham and Pluckley crawl crab-like, unluckily. 

Little-Chart farming drove tenants to Banning ; 

And Sutton- Vallance could not strike a balance. 
If you trust man or woman, for money lent, 
You may wait till the sky falls in Weald of Kent. 

Additional Notes. — Crundall (like Holme-on-Spalding-Moor, in Yorkshire, 
East Riding), being a landmark, at the top of a steep bill, is known as 'tbe 
Visible Church, ' with more martyrs than saints. It is told of a churchwarden at 
Sutton- Vallance, whose name was not ' Nippy Dixon ' that he delayed making 
up his vestry accounts, lost all his vouchers, and, after jotting down his few 
remembered payments, added one item — " sisteen pund twelf : muddled away " ! 

The county establishment for criminal lunatics at Barming-Heath, near 
Maidstone, is comparatively modern ; but it had long been needed, and is always 
' choak-full.' Kent rejoices in widely-spread insanity, hereditary and Invicta. 
The Weald was formerly a ' wild ' or forest, and still earlier had been under 
water. Even now, the river Stour often overflows the meadow-laud. 

Of the Biddendeu Maids, named Preston, the conjoint portraiture is in Easter 
biscuit. See woodcut of it, in Win. Hone's Every -Day Book, ii, 443, 1826. 

jFinal ©roup of Koroutgfjc IMla&s. 

%\)t JFemale Gamblers;. 

Ncarlg all of tlje Scnrutccntf) flDcnturjj. 




Of Haven Bank, Boston, Lincolnshire, 

Printer and Publisher of the Three-fold 

* J9t0llitfe0 of tf)E Restoration,' 1875-76 ; 

Of the most beautiful Edition of 

Sir Cljomas JHore'g ' miopia,' 1878 ; 

And many other choice Books ; 

" Three Maids did make a meeting 
With one young-man of late." 

Ry Martin Parker, circa 1635: 'A Good 

Throw for Three Maidenheads ; or, Three 
Maidenheads lost at Dice.' 


2 T 


<JTf)c jfrnmlc Enmblcr Sip to Date. 

(A New Night-Mere, alias Revolted Daughter : Fin de Siecle. ) 

Editorial Prelude to Final Group. 

J/f/'E never liked her, from the first, when she began to Shriek ; 

She soon has made herself accurst, and me?i for refuge seek : 
Time was, from her unlovely ways we could more deftly skip ; 
But few, in these decadent days, escape from her fell grip. 

She always was unfeminine, intolerant , and vain ; 
Her schemes to over-reach combine, more than true Rights to gain : 
The Platfor77i heard her angry stamp ; her objurgations shrill 
Consign d to regions far from damp all who dared cross her will. 

She lured ' Tame Cats' to take the chair* purring at ' Woman's Wrongs, 
Thd she was loath' d by maidens fair, and mock'd in ribald songs ; 
Stubborn and rancorous she scream'd, she yell ' d, and often swore ; 
A madwoman to most she seem ' d in the good days of yore. 

" Woman a Future has ! " she cried : we ?nark the difference vast, 
Whofuid her glaring, open-eyed, ' The Woman with a Past.' 
Unsexed, her dogmas taint the town, miasma from foul fen ; 
Her venom poisons and strikes down the hapless race of men. 


The Priory, Ashford, Kent. 

* One tame cat called himself a Lyon, and professed to Play-fair. 

Note by Printer's D., a shining light in the ' Chapel.' 

The " gjcrtforushire Jttmarg" P.D.'s are world-famous for sagacity and alertness. 

They were Orphically Hymned, in 1883, by their grateful laureate, who sang of them, 
for their ' Wayzgoose '— 

" It was in the prime of Cucumber-time, 
When Sunshine delights and surprises, 
That we caught a glimpse of a couple of Imps, 

Hertford P.D.'s who brought ' revises.' 
They diet on type, as a Coster on tripe ; 

They ' stand not on forms,' but set them ; 
And they feed very high on all sorts of ' pye,' 
So long as the Chapel rules let them." 

Final Note and Query. — Why do our Ballad Society Subscribers omit to give the 
Devil his due, by prompt payment, annually? Printers cannot work gratuitously at 
Ballads and Indices. Are they to furnish paper, and find stubble to mix with their clay ? 


(CDaoI SDcltfcerp : Muter &t$$ian$.) 

" Now this, to my notion, is pleasant cheer : 
To lie all alone on a ragged heath, 
Where your nose is not sniffing for bones or beer, 

But a peat-fire smiles like a garden beneath ; 
The cottagers bustle about the door, 

And the girl at the window ties her strings ; 
She 's a dish for a man who 's a mind to be poor ! 
Lord ! women are such expensive things." 

Geo. Meredith's ' Beggar 's Soliloquy] 1861.* 

otjkts of Justice (so-called) were theatres of 
amusement to giddy folks, especially when a 
female culprit was brought for legal vivisection. 
They were so in 1663 and 1672, when Mary 
Carleton ' the German Princess' was on trial. 
In 1752 the case of Miss Mary Blandy, tried 
at Oxford for poisoning her father, attracted 
a large audience. In 1815, the unjustly 
accused and virtuous Eliza Penning was 
convicted on the shallowest evidence, and 
executed, despite many petitions for respite. 
(The Editor's father knew her well.) Similar interest was felt 
in 1857 at the trial of Madelaine Smith, of Blytheswood Square, 
Glasgow (whom the present Editor met) : she was supposed to have 
administered a cup of coffee " medicated " to her seducer, the 
black-mailer Emile L'Angelier. He, like Darnley, richly deserved 
his fate. Madelaine received ' the benefit of the doubt ' in the 
Scotch verdict of ' Not Proven? and was set at liberty : she soon had 
several offers of marriage. Powerful fascination dwells in such 
prisoners. But spectators at the Assize Courts feel more curiosity 
than sympathy. The possibility of guilt does not repel them, if 
the criminals are young and beautiful. This is the opinion of our 
friend Dervaux, who made his maiden speech in 1890 : see p. 650. 
He specially studied these ' Female llamblers.' 

* Note. — Compare with this opening of ' The Beggar's Soliloquy ' the un- 
premeditated confirmation of his sentiment in ' The One-eyed Musician,' p. 66, 
of John Ingold's Roughly Told Stories (Leadenhall Press): a remarkable 
volume, grim but masterly, and graphic ; memorable, in its half-cynical, 
truthful sadness : " English beggars always have a whining tale of wives and 
families ! It seems to me, marriage with them, at the best, is giving up half 
their rations to get the other half indifferently cooked. And the poor English- 
woman is never satisfied till she has made a husband of the individual who 
prevents her earning a livelihood, and blacks her eyes out of gratitude for the 
babies she gives him." 

644 Hahitual Survival of the Unfitted. 

The summary processes of old were unlike the " linked sweetness 
long drawn out " whereby the modern loquacious counsel, cross- 
grained witnesses, and a prejudiced Judge, have succeeded in making 
law a lottery. Seldom was there a long delay between arrest and 
trial, or between trial, condemnation, and punishment. Acquittal 
was the rarest of chances : indeed, was accounted a miscarriage 
of justice. Judges, in a hurry for their dinner, delivered their 
charges emphatically and briefly. Verdicts were given unhesitatingly 
by the muddle-headed tradesmen of an English jury (unable to 
weigh evidence). Sentence would be pronounced, at once, and 
execution follow without a pause, wholesale in batches: " Strings 
for six ! " Such were our national ways and religious habits, 
quietly expeditious, and agreeable to the community ; before the 
car-wheels of Themis were clogged, and the air poisoned with the 
redundancy of Talk. At Halifax, with its ' gibbet-law,' no less 
than at Jedburgh, with its 'justice,' the process was shortened. 

So had it been at Falkland Castle, after the murder of Rothsay (vide Sir 
Walter's ' Fair Maid of Perth,'' cap. xxxii). Hanging took place without any 
loss of time, the culprits having been seized red-handed, and a quorum empanelled 
expressly to declare that death -punishment was due : thus a race was run by 
the foreman below and the hangman on the ramparts, to see which of them could 
get through his work most quickly. Malefactors in later times, chiefly of the 
' distressful country,' object to such haste, and clamour for 'the law's delay.' 
Nothing satisfies them— not even penal servitude or the plank bed. 

An example of wholesale executions is (Roxb. Coll., Ill, 3f6) 'A Sorrowful 
Lamentation and last Farewell of all the [ten] prisoners to be executed on 
Tuesday, "Wednesday, and Thursday next, with an account of the places where 
the unhappy people are to suffer.' (Compare pp. 184, 646, and 717.) 

One evil result of our modern system is a bewildering crowd 
of convicted prisoners, undergoing penal servitude. " These are 
our failures ! " But the earlier practice in our enlightened island 
avoided any piling up of useless lumber. It cleared the atmosphere, 
better than gaol-fever. It decreased the surplus population in 
congested districts, and erected landmarks to adorn the scenery 
or guide travellers, where gibbets were needed for hanging in 
chains. It lightened the prison-rates of cost for keep and clothing. 
When the condemned were executed quickly, whether innocent 
or guilty, no farther economy was needed. Few complained, or 
were left to murmur. Everybody was satisfied, especially the 
officiating clergy, who disliked tediousness in repentance. In 
Matthew Prior's ballad, neither the Cordelier nor the Hangman 
disguised their sentiments from the loitering penitent — 

" Now fitted the halter, now travers'd the cart, 
And often took leave, but was loth to depart." 

We follow their bright example, while near the close of our 
Editorial circuit, and make good riddance of some habitual offenders 
whose room is better than their company. Place aux dames ! Here 
are some ' Female Ramblers ' to be dismissed into the silent world. 


[Roxburghe Coll., II, 164; Euing, 122; Pepys, III, 294; Huth, III, 9; 

Jersey, II, 8 = Lind., 1442.] 

CJ)e jremale Eamfete; 

^f)t %$m Bujtromc ILaggeg of jfroctljampton^ut ; 

(Containing tljetr pleasant Pastime at tije iHagg's-^eati, together 
fot'ttj niang Sntrt'cguts tljat follatocti thereupon. 

Tune is, Let Cmsar live long [see vol. iv, p. 389], Licensed according to Order. 

YOu Young-men and Lasses, I'd have ye take care, 
When you are returning from Market or Fair, 
For fear you should stay at the JSfagcfs-Head all night, 
To reap the fond pleasures of wanton delight ; 
And then send [a hint to] the Doctors with speed, 
For physick, lest any by sporting should [n]eed. 

These Lasses were buxome, and beautiful too, 

8o long as they staid with the Revelling Crew ; 

Rut yet after this, upon All Holland-Day [All SS., Nov. 1. 

Poor Lasses, they p[in]ed their sweet beauties away, 

So that we lamented to see their sad fate, 

And thus they repented, a little too late. 

On last Christmas-Bay, as I here do profess, 
One of these young Maids in a delicate dress 
Came to a young man, and she gave him a smile ; 
Now when she had been in his presence a while, 

She said : " You may see I am delicate fine : 

Come kiss now, and hug me ! I wish I was thine." 

This Damsel one day to the Town she would go, 

That her loving Gallant some kindness might show : 

She sought him a while, but he could not be found. 

Yet still she kept hunting and searching all round ; f ' 0, my love, thon 

And said, with a sigh and a sorrowful tear, -!' slayest too long !' 

" If thou dost not come, I have no comfort here! " [ — p. 148. 

Another young Damosel, of this very place, 

Did happen to be in a pittiful case : 

Her brawny friend [throwing mud] chanced to let flye, 

Which ruu down her stockings, and caus'd her to cry : 

" Had ever poor creature such fortune before ? [No precedent before. 

This woful disaster doth trouble me sore.'' 

At length some reflections by chance being spread, 
Concerning the wanton, lewd lives they had led, 
To Northampton straight in a passion they go, 
To take out a Warrant, in order to know 

Which was the most honest true maid of the three : 

This was to be try'd by a Justice Decree. {Jngement de Tart*. 

r ' " 

646 The Female Ramblers of Northamptonshire .' 

Young Sarah was then in a passionate rage, 

And swore by her maidenhead she would engage [limited liability. 

An honest man's courage in short to pull down, 

And have all his Land for to buy her a gown ! 
But straight he said to this young passionate Lass, 
He 'd " keep it, when she had no smock [fit] to [pass "]. 

Fine delicate Mantuas these damsels adore, [= short mantles. 

"With gay yellow Girdles, and twenty things more, 

To make their sweet beauty most splendid appear ; 

And yet these poor Lasses are never the near ! 
Alone, without Husbands, they 're forced to lye, 
Which makes them right glad of a bit by the bye. [text, couch. 

Young Lasses, if you would your Credit maintain, 

Such idle loose company strive to refrain ! 

'Tis true I would have ye be merry and ivise, 

Lest you should your maiden-[fame] lose by surprize : 
For if that sweet Jewel should chance to be lost, 
You cannot regain it, by infinite cost. Jt'tltS. 

Printed for P. Brooksby, J. Deacon, J. Blare, J. Back. 

[Black-letter. Three woodcuts: 1st, "Here you may be cured," iv, 358; 
2nd, bed-scene, vii, 458; 3rd, lady, vi, 82. Date, circa 1688-91.] 

tgS^ " How sat/ you, Master Foreman, are your jurymen agreed ? 

The sentence of the Cotirt is, 'Not guilty, but do not do it again 
Sarah is discharged ■without a stain on her character. But she had none left. 

Note. — A Pepysian Pinny Merriment is similarly entitled ' The Female 
Ramblers ; or, A Fairing for Cuckolds,' printed in 1683. It precedes ' The 
Unfortunate Son'; the 'Second Part of Unfortunate Jack,' 1681; and a 
' Pleasant Discourse between Conscience and Plain -Dealing,' written by C. H., 
1674, beginning, " As through the City I pass'd of late." See our Bagford 
Ballads, p. 431 : where the authoi was not identified, he was Charles Hammond. 

By the same Charles Hammond was written ' A Fairing for Young-Men ; or, 
The Careless Lover' (mentioned in vol. vii, p. 110, and again here on p. 468) : 
given on p. 673, beginning, " List, you brave youngsters, that live in the City." 

His initials, C. H., are appended to two Roxburghe Ballads, one being ' The 
Happy lleturn of the Figure of Two' (i.e. Charles II), "I have been a 
Traveller long" (vol. vi, pp. 324 to 326), printed for William Gilbertson, 1659-60. 
The other, similarly signed C. H., is ' Fancie's Favourite ; or, The Mirror of 
the Times.' It begins, " Come, come away, you maidens fair " (vol. vii, pp. 44-5). 
Another ballad, unique, but not in lloxb. Coll., giving full signature, is entitled, 
' The Credit of Yorkshire, or the Glory of the North ; or, A New Way to Pay 
the Maltman.' To the tune of, The right Glory of the West. It begins, 
'Of late I heard a ditty." Printed for Richard Burton, at the Horse-shoe, 
in Smith field. Date partly illegible : he is not known to have printed later 
than 1674. One ' Glory of the West' is of 1685 — "In Lime began a Rebellion, 
for there the rebels came in." Ouvry Coll., I, 78. Licensed, July 31, 1685. 

The ' Lamentation of Malefactors,' mentioned on pp. 184, 644, is added 
to this group (p. 719). Date unspecified, between 1706 and 1730. Begins, 
"Attend awhile, good people, pray, to what 1 shall relate; A warning take, 
both old and young, by our unhappy fate." They had been previously banded 
together in riot, Thomas Taplin styliug himself ' the Captain of the gang.' 


[Roxburghe Collection, II, 453 ; Pepys Coll., Ill, 71.] 


CJje Cfiree T6urome e^atos of god ; 

©r, E\)t pleasant ISntrcarjue bcttofxt tljem auto a Countrg <Stci)c= 
maker, foljo left tljem a Iarjje ijUcfcaninfl to pag, etc. 

To the Tune of, The Guinny wins her [p. 649]. Licensed according to Order. 

PRay listen to this Ditty, for it will make you merry : 
Three Lasses, fair and pretty, was treated to Canary 
In Yoel by a loving friend, who it seems did cry " Old Sieves to mend ! " 
A jolly bonny Blade ; and as he cry'd his trade 
It was his chance to meet these Lasses in the street, 
Wh[om] he resolv'd to treat with wine, for they were buxome, brisk, and fine. 

The first was mincing Sarah ; the second, buxome Betty ; 
The third, young modest Mary : all Lasses fair and pretty. 
With him they to a Tavern went, for to spend the clay in sweet content ; 
The Sieve-maker and they would frolick, sport, and play, 
And call for liquor store, making the Tavern roar ; 
The Sieve-maker he swore that he would tickle them, a[ll the three]. 

Brisk Betty did not fear him, but bid him use his pleasure, 
And straight she sat down near him : he kist her out of measure. 
At which young Sarah seem'd to frown, and her tears in sorrow trickl'd down, 
Because he kist her first who was the very worst. 
But. "Pretty girls," said he, " let's lovingly agree ; 
And do not press on me, so fast ; I '11 serve you all alike at last." 

* Note.— Yoel, alias Yeovil, is in Somersetshire, twenty miles from Bath. 
' The Three Maids' drank more than was good for them, and were forced to pay. 

648 The Three Buxom Maids of Yeovil. 

Quoth Mary : " I admire your tender kind embraces ; 
It heightens our desire, when we are joyning faces. 
By true experience this I know, therefore I declare before we go 
The Sieve-maker shall be both loving, kind, and free." 
" Sweet Lasses," he reply'd, " nothing shall be deny'd, 
If with a flowing tide you'll fill, this [day, my cup with liquor st]ill." 

Bess knew it must be [riot prejvented ; she was not for denying ; 
The rest likewise consented, their ([rollick] they let flying. 
He held the [bowl], they pour'd it in, Btttifs [hand jerk'd it] above his chin, 
And blinded both his eyes. He in a passion ci'ies, 
" I can't endure the smart, it cuts me to the heart ! " 
With that he did depart away, and left them all the shot to pay. 

They laught to see him scour, and call'd for more Canary ; 
Then, waiting there an hour, at length quoth modest Mary, 
" I fear that he will come again no more, therefore let 's call to know the score." 
To this they straight agreed : the Drawer came with speed, 
And cry'd, without delay, " You must ten shillings pay, 
Before you go your way." 'Tis true, this made the Lasses all look blew. 

Tho' joys they had been reaping, yet seeing they were worsted, 
Poor girls ! they fell a weeping, and wanted to be trusted. 
The Drawer he began to rave, he would present satisfaction have. 
They having then no stock, each Damsel pawn'd her smock, 
AVhich was of dowlas fine, to pay for bread and wine ; 
Then went away at nine, and swore ' ' they 'd never [meddle with] sieves no more." 

London : Printed for /. Blare, at the sign of the Looking-glass on London-bridge. 

[Black-letter. Three woodcuts : 1st, a boy sitting in a sieve or basket upheld 
by a man and a woman, a baby lies swaddled on the ground ; 2nd, Lady with 
upraised fan, p. 647 ; 3rd, the scroll-work, vol. vii, p. 209. Date, circa 1685-92.] 

Shabby was the trickery ' The Maids of Yoel ' had to endure, 
they being left in pawn for the reckoning ; but common in Somerset, 
Notts, and Derbyshire. It had been earlier localized in London. 
C. Hammond (see Note, p. 646) has one unique ballad, circa 1656, 
'A Pairing for Young Men; or, The Careless Lover.' It tells them, 

" Lasses there be, too, that will fawn upon you, 

And make you believe they do love you so deare, 
When 'tis to try what they can get on you, [qu. from you. 

To feast their chops with wine and good cheere. 
One shall be namelesse [who] did serve them all finely, 

For to a Tavern he led them away, 
Call'd for good cheere, and welcom'd them kindly ; 

And left those Lasses the reckoning to pay." [See p. 674. 

In another ballad (reprinted, vol. vii, p. 225), ' The Unconscionable 
Batchelors of Derby,' at Nottingham Fair, left their lasses in pawn 
at the alehouse, after having run up the score. The girls paid a 
forfeit, unwillingly, as those of Yeovil, or ' Will Waterproof ' did: 

" So fares it since the years began, 
Till they be gather' d up ; 
The truth, that flies the flowing can, 
Will haunt the vacant cup." 

The original Song of ''The Guinea wins her.' 649 

The tune of ' The Guinea wins her ' is named for two distinct 
Roxb. ballads in this ' Group of Female Ramblers,' viz. 'The 
Three Buxom Maids of Yoel' ( = Yeovil) and ' The West Country 
"Wonder; or, William the Serving-man's Good Fortune' (p. 708). 
The tune takes its title from a line in the second stanza of a 
Pepysian ditty ( Pepys Coll., Y, 215; Osterley Park, Jersey 
Coll., Ill, 38; Lindes, 526), known as ' The Intreagues of Love.' 

A few stanzas were given, temporarily and inconveniently, in the Addenda 
to Part XXI (vol. vii, Second Preface, p. xii**). It is here reprinted complete. 

%n lEmllcnt ISTeuj Soncr, call'ti 

Cbe Jntreagucs of Lotie; ©r, 

©ne iaorth a 2Ehousantf. 

HOw happy are we, when we meet with a Beauty 
That is charming and free, and knows more than her Duty. 
Women they were made for men to tame, the Gods above allow the same ; 
But this cunning creature will not yield to Nature, 

Nor will let you [win suit], unless you court her to 't, [texl, do 't. 

And give her gold to boot : but you — 
But you, must ever swear to be true. 

But when the Guinea wins her, she 's at your Devotion ; 
She '11 freely let you [w]in, Sir, and meet you in the motion : 
'Tis then, if you behold her eyes, how they roll when at the sport she lies : 
First she turns the white, and then she shuts them quite ; 
And then with all her might she seems her lips to bite, 
And swears you're her delight : " Such joys, sure, 
She never felt the like before ! " 

And if you have but gold, Sir, with you she will be moving : 
She cares not though you 're old, Sir, she will be fond and loving. 
In Love she '11 pass the time away, and ask you all the night to stay ; 
And for your money's sake, she '11 hang about your neck, 
And give a kiss to please, and then your hand she '11 squeeze, 
And look with dying eyes, and swear she dies, 
If that you leave her there. 

When she has got your Treasure, and left you no money, 
Then you must wait her leisure, while another she calls ' Hunny ! ' 
She minds not all the oaths you swear, altho' you vow you love her ne'er so dear ; 
But he that brings the Cole shall have my Lady whole. [co/e=money. 

For money is the cry, fine rigging for to buy, 
Or else she will deny the toy, the toy, 
The Cullies of the Town call joy. 

" But where 's the Charming Beauty that constant is and loyal, 

That loves and will be true t'ye, when put to the tryal ? 

Although you'd Guineas give her down, yet she no ways can be like the Town, 

For she '11 be just and true, and l[ov]e with none but you : 

While the jilting w . . . . let's you and thousands more 

To [buy] her o'er and o'er, and swears, and swore, 

Each is the man she does adore." jfinitf. 

Printed for Charles Bamet [Jersey exemplar : but ' for J. Science,'' Tepysian.] 

650 Objectionable Mothers of wanton Daughters. 

The tune was used for ' The Canter's Confession ; or, The Old Roundhead 
turn'd Ranter ' : beginning, " Give ear to my confession, which freely I am 
making." Printed for Brooksby. Also, Guinea wins her for " I am a mournful 
Lady, sharp sorrows I lye under "('The Mourning Lady,' of Maj.-Gen.Talmarsh, 
June, 1694) ; " I am as bold a Hector, as most is in the nation " (' The London 
Libertine'); " Pray hear my Lamentation, young Gallants of the City" ('The 
Poor Whore's Lamentation ; or, The Fleet-street Crack's Complaint,' etc : 
compare p. 457) ; and " Young Gallants that are single, be careful how you 
marry" (' The Hen-peckt Cuckold'). 

According to our friend Dervaux (see vol. vii, p. 129), "The 
mothers of wanton damosels make a poor figure in many of the 
foregoing Roxburghe Ballads. "Women go off, like the Gorgonzola, 
though they had been formerly sweet in maidenhood. They 
degenerate sadly, while their family is growing up. They once 
wei'e content to slave and toil, uncomplainingly. They denied 
themselves luxuries, comforts, almost necessaries, for the sake of 
thankless children. They unscrupulously wronged other persons, 
on their account, and jealously resented favours being diverted 
from their own brood. No less do they resemble Hens sheltering 
chickens, than they imitate provident Pussies, who catch birds, 
or mice, to train up their kittens in the way they should not go. 
Similarly to hens and cats in later life, women are ready to become 
aggressive against rebels of their own family. Hence the ' Revolt 
of the Daughters,' exemplified in pp. 189 to 208, and on p. 634. 
Mothers who had once clucked joyously, now scream angrily and 
peck viciously. They ' set their back up,' swelling their feathers 
or bristling their fur. They spit and they swear." — It is true. 

Alas ! Dervaux, we know it, shudderingly. Our sympathy enfolds 
Nellie, Nannie, Susan, Katie, and Magdalen, in every dialogue 
between a wavering nymph and her indignant mother : who went 
wrong earlier. Mater pulchra, sedfilia pulchrior, is a compliment: 
but the shield has a reverse side. Evil is their inheritance. 

If we are compelled to judge the mothers of these ' Female 
Ramblers ' by the sound test, that rotten fruit must have sprung 
from a corrupted tree, a heavy indictment shames the previous 

Little could be pleaded in favour of the ' Buxom Maids of 
Yoel' (p. 647), and less can be said for 'The Wanton Wenches 
of Wiltshire.' The ballad thus named was sung to the tune of 
The Maids a Washing themselves, which we identified (vide p. 549) 
with The Devonshire Damsels' Frolic, beginning " Tom and William, 
with Ned and Ben " (reprinted in vol. iv, p. 438). To this tune 
was also sung 'The Discontented Bride,' beginning, " Will the 
Baker a wooing went" (Pepys Coll., IV, 119). These Wiltshire 
wenches are numbered, not named, except one of them, the fourth, 
who is "brisk bouncing Kate'''' (unless Nanny he one, since the 
Nannies were always in mischief). Each of the girls reveals her 
discontent and amatory longings. The young men listen quietly. 


[Roxburghe Collection, II, 492; Jersey, I, 356 =Lindes., 912.] 

Cfie OTanron COcncfjcs of miltsWt; 

38emg a Pleasant Btsccjurse bctinecn Jour gettnej jFcmalcs, as 
tljeg sat tatjettjer in a convenient place to scatter tljefr ina[nton 
talk] ; folio, bct'iut, onct4jcarti ig tfoo gounn/tnen, occasioned 
tlje foljole Eh'scoueig of tijet'r discourse. 

Tune of, The Maids a Washing [see p. 549]. This may be printed, K. P[ocock], 

NOw, young Batchelors, all draw near, and you a pleasant Discourse shall hear, 
Of four young Damsels all meeting and greeting each other together in 
fair Wiltshire. 
All complaiu'd at a sorrowful rate, because they could not enjoy a mate : 
"Whilst they made their sad pittiful moan, they thought they were private and 
all alone. 

One said : "I must depart a space, for here I am in a woful case ; 

1 find 1 'm ready to scatter my [laugh]ter, therefore I must find a convenient place, 

Where no younge man may see what 1 do : and then I 'le streightways return 

to you." 
But unto this they would no ways agree, they 'd " all go together for Company." 

Hand in hand then away they go, like loving Sisters all in a row. 

Two younij men, hearing their talk and prattle, resolved some more of this gigg 

to know ; 
Therefore, watching them, whither they went, these two young men, by joynt 

Both resolved in ambush to lye, where both words and actions they might descry. 

" My sweet sister," says One, " I find, night and day, such a pain in my mind; 
Because I am not the blessing possessing which I might enjoy if young men 

were kind : 
How I tremble, while here I reveal the inward torments which now I feel ! 
But yet in vain do I utter my grief, since no one will yield me the least relief. 

" Once I heard of a woman old, whose face was wrinkl'd and blood near cold, 
But yet, 1 tell ye. she crying, replying, ' The narrow I suffer cannot be told ! ' 
You may easily guess at the cause, and need not stand very long to pause : 
Now if old women such passion express, I hope a young Damosel can do no less." 

Said the Second: " Young sweet-faced John, you know he is a young lusty man ; 
I dearly love him, provoke him and stroke him, yet he will not kiss me, do 

what I can. 
I have fed him with Custards and Cream, and all things that can pleasant seem; 
Kay, call him my honey, my love and dear : and yet I protest 1 am ue'r the near ! ' ' 

Said the Third: " I am pure, [my hair 's] cole-black ; and that you know has 
a dainty smack; [I lack ? 

Besides, I know I am witty and pritty : then why should I not have those joys 
Being youthful, and just in my prime, and loth to lose my teeming-time : [so ? " 
Yet brisk young Gallants no kindness will show ! What reason have I to be served 

Then the Fourth did begin to prate, and that was bonny brisk bouncing Kate, 
Who did with fury behold 'em. and told that she was stark mad for a man-like male : 
" Tho' I am shorter than others may be, yet wherefore should this hinder me F 
Behold, I am of a delicate Brown ; no colour is better in all the Town ! 


The Wanton Wenches of Wiltshire. 

" Nay, the worst of us all might serve ! for surely Batchellors dou't deserve 

To have our favour, who spight us, and slight us, and suffer poor Damsels to 

pine and starve. 
But we'l tattle no longer of this [foul wrong] !" So e'ry sister sat down 

to [a song] : 
And yet, hefore they had perfectly done, the young men they laugh t, and the 

wenches [did run]. [Roxb. slightly mutilated. 


Printed for J. Back, at the Black- Boy on London Bridge, near the Drawbridge. 
[Black-letter. Six woodcuts : 1st and 6th are here ; 2nd is the girl, vii, 29 ; 

3rd, jrirl, iv, 370; 4th, a female pilgrim, iv, 377; oth, Cupid entangled, 

vii, 455, k. Date, 1685-8.] 

Cfje mournful e$atD of 'Bcrfesfnre* 

EECOMMENDED to mercy, as having been more sinned against 
j than sinning, is this 'Mournful Maid of Berkshire,' who was 
relegated to appear among the 'Female Ramblers.' The ballad 
was sung to the often-mentioned tune of ' The Jealous Lover ' (see 
p. 146). We do not interpret this assignment to mean the song 
" Forgive me if your looks I thought*" (see p. 411), but as referring 
to a unique Pepysian ballad, beginning " Farewell, my Love ! 
farewell, my Dear ! " Printed for C. Bates, at the Sun and Bible, 
and entitled, ' The Jealous Lover ; or, The Damosel's Complaint 
of her Seaman's TJnkindness ; together with his Chearful Answer 
after all her Sorrow' (Pepys Coll., V, 367). 

Despite her anxiety for her 'reputation,' the 'Berkshire Maid' 
invited her own fate, since she remained where she was constantly 
in peril. At the best, she had an evil prospect of a mother-in-law. 
Such a 'looby son' could by no possibility become a good husband. 
Villanous seducers, like ' Dick,'' deserve no pardon. For them is 
no sincere repentance, and no restoration. Yice maybe cloaked, or 
shamed into inaction, but seldom is uprooted. Impurity retains 
its vassal for life, or longer : throughout time, if not also, 
throughout eternity. He who has been filthy, continues filthy still, 
Vestigia nulla retrorsum. 


[Roxburghc Coll., II, 333 ; Pepys, III, 364 ; Jersey, III, 9G=Lind., 153.] 

Cfte apournful e^atD of lacrksfurc : 

Containing fjcr TOJoEfuI Hamcntatfon for f)cr ticarlg belobcti iHafticn= 
Jjcati, faciei) dje nnfortunatclo lost upon tlje 3Hfjeat=mafo toitlj 
Instg JDfck tlje tinnrrtnan. 

To the Tune of, The Jealous Lover [see p. 652]. Licens'd, etc. 

ATtend, you friends and parents dear, unto this said Relation here, 
Which to the world 1 here unfold : a greater Truth cannot be told. 

When men to wickedness are bent, and parents give their joynt consent 
To the commission of their crimes, well may we say " Sad is the times " ! 

Friends ought for to instruct them so, that they the Laws of God might know ; 
But some are of another mind : as by this sequel you shall find. 

There lives a woman in Berk-shire, who has one lubey son, we hear, 
And he endeavour'd, night and day, a modest Damsel to betray, 

That lived with his mother then. She could not be at quiet when 
He found her all alone, for still, he prest to gain her kind good will. 

The modest Damosel often cry'd, his wanton suit must be deny'd ; 
Yet ne'er the less, this would not do, for still he did his end pursue. 

Sometimes he 'd to her Chamber creep, when she perhaps was fast asleep ; 
Thinking he might acceptance find, but she was of another mind, 

And would not yield to his Request, yet he 'd not let her be at rest : 
Swearing that he himself would kill, if he of her had not his will. 

" Say what you will, 'tis all in vain, my Reputation I '11 not stain. 
Forbear your importunity ! why should you strive to ruin me ? 

" If you do not your suit forbear, then do I solemnly declare 

Your Mother she the truth shall know, how you would seek my Overthrow." 

He never valu'd what she said ; so that at length this modest Maid 
Inform'd his Mother, out of hand, who gave the lass this Reprimand : 

" Why, housewife! housewife!" she reply 'd, "why must my Son bo thus 
deny'd ? 
Let him enjoy his heart's delight ! perhaps he may your love requite. 

" For if by him with child you prove, my son I will in kindness move 
To take you for his lawful Wife ; then will you lead a happy life." 

The Maid was loath to trust to this, but said : " I pray [thee] , sweet Mistress, 
Let me go seek some other place, for fear he brings me to disgrace." 

Her Dame reply'd : " As I am true, I can't, nor will not, part with you ; 
Therefore pray set your heart at ease, and see my Son you strive to please." 

Soon after this, he chane'd to meet the Damsel on a mow of wheat, 
Whom he with vows soon over-came, and reapt what [brought her grief 
and sh]ame. 

Now when the Damsel prov'd with child, she then was bitterly revil'd, 
Both by the Mother and the Son : they from their former vows did run. 

The Damosel then, in sad distress, with grief of heart and heaviness 
Cry'd out : " Behold my wretched state ! a creature most unfortunate. 

" Would I the Wretch had never known, for here in bitter tears of moan 
I do my Lamentation make ; this heart of mine with grief will break. 

654 The Mournful Maid of Berkshire. 

" Ye youthful Damsels, fair and young, take care that no deluding tongue, 
Does e'er insnare you, for you '11 find men most inconstant like the wind. 

" They seldom value what they swear : therefore, young Damsels, all beware ! 
Least at the last you weep like me, in tears of sad extremity." Jfufs. 

[London : Printed for /. Deacon, at the Angel in Guilt-spur-Street.] 

[Black-letter. Roxb. colophon lost, here supplied from the Pepysian and 
Jersey exemplars. The same woodcut as in vii, 458. Also a headpiece. Text 
reads, ' What I forbear to name.' Date of issue, 1684 or later.] 

Additional Note, on other BERKSHIRE BALLADS. 

Our Roxburghe ballad is totally distinct from the unique and earlier Pepysian 
ballad, sung to the tune of All happy times, and beginning, " There was a 
damsel young and fair, of whom I will give a relation." Lie. ace. to Order, and 
printed for Charles Barnet, it is entitled—' The Beautiful Barkeshire Damsel 
that was courted by a Gallant young Squire : Giving an account how he 
deluded her into the Fields, thinking there by force to have obtain'd his will. 
Shewing likewise how she overcame him, and struck him to the ground with 
his own sword' (Pepys Coll., V, 239). To this a Second Part was printed, 
entitled — 'The Barkshire Damsel; or, Vertue Rewarded: Being the Happy 
"Wedding between the Gallant Esquire and the Barkshire Damsel. To the 
same tune. Licensed according to Order. Printed by and for A. 3I\ilbourne}, 
1697. It begins, " The gallant Esquire named before" (Pepys Coll., IV, 27). 

One Berkshire ballad is entitled ' The Doctor and Beggar- Wench ; or, The 
Barkshire Frollick.' Tune of Ladies of London (pp. 549, 555, 667). Licensed 
by R. Pocock ; printed fur J. Back, at the Black-Boy on London- Bridge, 1686. 
It begins, " There was a Doctor that lives in Barkshire, of whom I will give 
a relation." (Pepys Coll., Ill, 280; Jersey, II, 53=Lind., 1126.) He gives 
her a shilling, meaning mischief, is espied early, escapes, and the news gets home 
before him ; commotion ensues. (Compare vol. vii, p. 377.) The burden varies — 
' And proffer' 1 d to give her a shilling, ' or, ' And bid him remember the shilling.' 

" Since he his credit thus did stain, in doing thus amiss, [The motto. 

He '11 never do the like again, he has enough of this." 

Another Berkshire ballad appropriately connected itself with the Group of 
' Rogueries of Millers,' being ' The Berkshire Tragedy ; or, The Wittam 
Miller ' (Roxb. Coll., Ill, 802), who murders his sweetheart. Itwas mentioned 
on p. 183, and is reprinted on p. 623. 

Cfre jftorfolfe lass, 

" She said 'twas a trouble, that griev'd her full sore : 
She had gotten the same of her Mother before.'''' 

— Sixth stanza, vide p. 656. 

BRIEF is the Roxb. ballad of The Norfolk Lass, but it outruns 
its welcome. Even among the ' Female Ramblers ' she could 
neither gain a footing nor find favour. Her mischance is accounted 
for by some fortuitous accident or 'heredity.' She offers this lucid 
explanation. We believe trustingly that "her mother was so before 
her." It has generally happened thus. Such evasion of personal 
responsibility was not unknown in ' the Land of Dumplings.' In 
later days "the Virtues grew tired of living for ever with the 
Rishop of Norwich," as in The Pilgrims of the Rhine. She was not 
an indigenous product of Norfolk, but her infant may have been. 

The Norfolk Lass. 655 

The Roxburghe ballad of ' The Norfolk Lass ' is slightly torn ; 
its objectionable woodcut is cracked and mutilated. The girl is 
here called a ' North-Country Lass.' (Let it be remembered, as 
explanatory of tunes which are so described, yet were decidedly 
not originally Scotch, that the term ' North Country ' was properly 
limited to North umbria, although sometimes stretched farther south 
so as to include counties nearer to London). The tune named here is 
The King and the Northern- Man ("To drive away the weary day " : 
words originally by Martin Parker, circa 1636, reprinted in vol. i, 
p. 521), and music earlier known as The Shit, but apparently lost 
or hidden under some later name. Alternative tune is Tommy Potts. 
The ballad, ' Thomas of Potte,' is in Percy Folio MS., iii, 137 : — 

' Showing how he won Lord Arundel's daughter from Lord 
Phoenix, being [himselfe] only a Serving-man.' It begins — 

" All you Lords in Scotland faire, and Ladies also bright of blee, 
There is a ladye amongst them all, of her report you shall heare [from] me,"etc. 

[Roxburghe Collection, II, 366 ; Huth, II, 45.] 

Cfie Jftotfolk Hass ; or, 

QHje tfHafo that foas Blorau laity ffifjtltr. 

Of a North -Country Lass I mean for to tell, 
"Who receiv'd such a Blast made her belly to swell. 

To the Tune of, The King and Northern-Man ; or, Tommy Potts. 

TT chanced of late, as I heard one tell, 
From Wessen to Maxel a Maid came to dwell. 
She thrived so well, and her body so great, 
Made all the Wives in the Town wonder thereat. 

It was at a Burial when it was done ; 
To talk with this maiden the good women came ; 
Then said the good Women, " Are we not beguil'd? 
We stand in great fear that thou art with-child." 

But then this Maid began for to swear, 
As if in an anger her self she would tear : 
" It were a great wonder as ever was known ! 
If I be with-child, into me it is blown. 

" For never no man had with me to do ; 
Therefore, good women, 'tis nothing so ! " 
She wish'd to the Lord, which you little think, 
That the ground might open, and in she might sink. 

" Why, [if you're] good women " — the[m] she did name, 
" Think you, good women, that I am [not] the same ? 

If I should swear, if that I did know 

That [ever] my body had got such a blow." \_t. oft to. 

656 The Norfolk Lass. 

In the Church-porch, hard by the Church-door, 

The women examin'd this maiden therefore ; 

She said 'twas a trouble, that griev'd her full sore : 

She had gotten the same of her Mother before. [Cf. p. G50. 

This passed on, while Tuesday came on ; [ = until. 

To be sick in stomack this Maiden begun ; 
She calls to one Goodman to make her a fire, 
For no other company she did desire. 

Up into her Chamber she went alone ; 
The women below did hear her to groan ; 
Up went a woman, but I heard no more, 
And there found a dainty Boy laid on the floor. 

She took up the pritty Bitbe, as 'tis a use, 

Telling the mother of this her abuse ,; 

Then said she, " Marry ! I told thee before 

That thou wert with-child, though you it forswore." 

But then for more of the Neighbours she sent, 
" And for to see this strange Accident ! " 
The strange ' accident ' to the women was shown, 
That into the body the Baby was blown. 

The sight of the Infant made the wives glad, 

Asking the mother who should be the Dad ? 

She view'd the pretty Babe, which was her Son, 

And said 'twas a dainty boy [brown as] a Bun. [text, like to. 

Next Thursday after to Church it was brought, 
For to have it Christ'ned, as it did ought : 
God-fathers, God-mothers, all that it had, 
They all did agree to the name of the Dad. 

All you fair Maids, have better care, 

And of your maidenheads stand more in fear : 

If that your bodies begin for to bown, [ =bend. 

Never forswear 't, for the truth will be known. 

Maids go no more to Weston to dance, 

But have a care of all such mischance ! 

For Weston young men such blasts they will blow, 

They '11 [crack] maids with [discredit], and they shall not know. 

And thus to end my Ditty so new, 

You may report it, for certain 'tis true : 

She would not believe it, till that it was known, 

But into her body the Baby was blown. JlVUS. 

Printed for P. Brooksby, at the Golden-Ball, near the Hospital- Gate, in 

West - Smith 'field. 

[Black-letter. Roxb. slightly mutilated. Four woodcuts : 1st, a fair-haired girl 
lying on the ground, exploding, surrounded by women who have disrobed her ; 
2nd, a lady holding a rose, p. 701; 3rd, a girl on a couch, p. 658; 
4th, man in large hat, p. 55. Date, cired 1672.] 

This cataclysmal 'Norfolk Lass' came "from Wessen [Weston] to MaxeV : 
localities unknown to fame. Her story is iudiscreetly told, and not worth telling. 

The unrestricted licence of a Lawyer's tongue. 657 

To complete our first sessional arraignment of these localized 
'Female Ramblers,' who trespassed on questionable borderlands, 
the Bench was forced to listen to the forensic bleatings of a 
hireling advocatus diaboli, the Crown-Prosecutor, one Heaviside 
Trismegistus, D.C.L., a Courtier of the Crooked Arches and of 
other shady neighbourhoods. He pleaded against the aforesaid 
' Female Ramblers,' most of whom were notoriously old offenders. 
He was never known to err on the side of mercy. Grim relentless 
hunger for punishment, to the utmost infliction of the law, inspired 
his professional eloquence. He avowedly disdained to pity the 
shivering wretches, who had ignominiously failed to elude detection. 
He declared that " Cloaked iniquity is the Palladium of English 
liberty." (Applause followed, but it was feeble.) Extenuating 
circumstances he deprecated, as a weakening of justice. Severe 
repression became a necessity of State. The knout should be our 
favourite plaything, if it were at once acclimatized. He himself 
was desirous of wielding it, coram publico. The nation had rapidly 
degenerated, in losing the robust enjoyment of legalized torture. 
Where are now the rack, the water-test, burning alive at the 
stake, even thumbikens, the Boots, and the Scavenger' s-daughter ? 
riot to mention the spiked barrel for culprits to be rolled downhill ; 
or the Nuremberg ' Baiser de la Vierge,' which prejudice forbade 
us to adopt! Shylock's " harmless necessary Cat," having tails 
in number corresponding with the Muses, Avas a tame substitute for 
such thrilling raptures. But it was still available, and conducive 
to harmonious melody. The rod-in-pickle could point a moral, and 
adorn, etc., in defiance of humanitarian sentiment. Pathetically he 
bewailed the innate depravity of the Sex, as being the cause of 
all mischances or masculine errors. (The Court was here observed 
to take notes, smilingly, being entirely in accord with its learned 
brother.) He denied, yes ! he emphatically denied, that anybody 
need to remember his having had a mother. In fact, it was 
irrelevant, even if it were true ; and no documentary evidence to 
that effect could be producible or credible. As for consideration 
of 'sweethearts,' or so-called 'Mistresses,' in the troubadour 
or trouvere sense of the word, he appealed confidently to an 
enlightened Jury of his countrymen, who knew better, in their 
commercial integrity, than to descend to such weakness. He 
quoted eruditely several leading cases, ex (/rat. Rigdum Funnidos 
v. Chrononhotonthologos : vide Aldibarontiphoscophormio, torn. I, iv, 
and the deliberate judgment of Juvenal (Sat. vi), who had 
established the legal decision that all women were bad, and 
incorrigible. The sooner they were exterminated the better it 
would be for the survival of the male fittest. He demanded 
a summary conviction of everybody, and exaction of penalties. 
The Court adjourned for luncheon. " The rest next time.'" 


VOL. VIII. 2 u 


The Unhappy Lady of Hackney. 

IT is left for Jurists to decide whether ' The Unhappy Lady 
of Hackney ' should be classed among these variously localized 
' Female Ramblers.' She finds no welcome or admittance elsewhere. 
Her misfortune and sin conjoin her with the hapless victim of 
Ford, Lord Grey of Werk, the false friend of Monmouth, and 
reputed writer of those ' Letters from a Nobleman to his Sister ' 
(i.e. to his undeceased wife's sister, ' Annabel ' ; Lady Henrietta 
Berkeley, his own victim) which were in 1683 notorious. (See 
vol. v, 333). The ballad, " You youthful charming Ladies fair" 
(Roxb. Coll., Ill, 800) is accordingly given here. Small though 
its merits may be, it better deserves a place than a few others, 
which are retained unwillingly. It scarcely needs further prelude 
than the words already written on pp. 616, 617, when we 
introduced the ' Miller's Recreation,' and reproved the incestuous 
and illicit intercourse with any undeceased or deceased wife's 
sister : death neither removes nor sanctifies the disqualification. 

[Roxburghe Collection, III, 800 ; Douce, IV, 34.] 

€J)c Onfmppp Laup of ^acitnep* 

To an Excellent New Tune. [See pp. 183, 617, Note.} 

YOu youthful charming Ladies fair, I pray, now give attention 
Unto this dismal tragedy, of which I now [make] mention : 
At Hackney liv'd a gentleman, who had three comely daughters ; 
And one was marry'd to a 'Squire, who caus'd this sad disaster. 

The youngest Sister being fair, and of a comely feature, 
Her sister's husband night and day did tempt this lovely creature; 
Telling of her, it was no sin, if she let him embrace her; 
Besides, he 'd take a special care it never should disgrace her. 

This Innocent, unto his bow indeed he quickly brought her, 
Then took her from her father's house. With many tears they sought her, 
Crying, " Alas ! where is she gone ? my youthful child so tender ! " 
Thus in distraction night and day her parents did lament her. 

The Unhappy Lad// of Hackney. 659 

In all the news, both near and far, her father advertiz'd her ; 
Yet he no tidings of her heard, so secret did he hide her. 
At length she big with child did grow, while this her amorous lover 
Did oft frequent her company : none knew it was her brother. 

At length in travail strong she fell, so great it was her sorrow, 

That she could not deliver'd be ; so, sending for her brother, 

With wringing hands and weeping eyes, in dreadful lamentation, 

" worst of men ! " she then did say, " you 've wrought my desolation. 

" Your wife, my tender sister dear, does little know my sorrow ; 
My troubled soul will take its flight from hence before to-morrow. 

sister dear ! forgive the crime ; and heaven show some pity, 

For heinous was the fault of mine. You wretch, that did deceive me ! 

" Before my soul forsakes this world, and Death's cold arms enfold me, 

1 '11 write unto my Parents dear, who will no more behold me ; 
And you, vile traitor ! while you live, seek no more Virgin's ruin ; 
Repent, repent, I say, in time ! for Vengeance is pursuing. 

" See how the pains in ev'ry part do rend my heart asunder. 

Death ! now send thy piercing dart, I can't endure it longer : 
Seize ye the Infant's life also, whose name would be infamous, 
Because its parents wrong did do, by acting things incestuous." 

She being deliver'd of her child, her life did soon expire ; 

Likewise her tender infant dear, which thing she did desire. 

In Covent-Gardtn- Church, indeed, in private she was bury'd ; 

But Heaven did bring to light this thing : the lines she wrote were carry'd, 

Unto her tender parents dear, these words were then expressed : 
" My loving friends, all pity me, whose case is most distressed. 
With floods of tears these lines I write : it was my cruel brother, 
My loving sister's husband dear, whose fault I will not smother. 

" He overcome me once with wine, and us'd me at his pleasure ; 
Then took me from my parents' house ; in sorrow out of measure, 

1 lay surrounded night and day, with child then by my brother : 
Which struggling lay within my womb, and I the unhappy mother. 

" At length in travail I did fall, while many did lament me ; 

It was the cry of one and all, that there was none could help me, 

And I my precious life must loose : so before my life departed 

I wrote these lines, to let you know, the traitor proved false-hearted." 

When her dear Parents read the same, it scar'd their souls with terror ; 
Her father cry'd, " My daughter dear, would I had kuown thy [error]." 
Her corps[c] they quickly had took up, and surgeons for to view her, 
For fear that she had murder' d been, by him that did undo her. 

Her eldest brother, a hopeful youth, grief burst his heart asunder, 
And he this life did soon depart ; her sister raves like thunder, 
To think her husband was so base, to prove her sister's ruin ; 
Her parents said, " Alas ! my child, your death is our undoing." 

London : Printed and Sold at Sympson's, in Stone- cutter- Street, Fleet-Market. 

[White-letter broadside. Two small cuts: 1, a shepherdess; 2, a Court lady 
and a gallant. Eepiint of an earlier edition than 1720. Two words are 
transposed in tenth stanza, to read " loving sister's." The word error restored; 
misprinted sorrow in thirteenth stanza. The stor,y was suggested in 1G82.] 

660 A Young Mans Advice, and the Benefit of Marriage. 

One ballad tells of ' Edinburgh Lasses ; or, Their Progress to the Fark to May 
themselves, and what the event was.' Tune of, My Love and I'm a Maying gone. 

" Give eaT, kind friends and neighbours, strange news I have to tell, 
Of a heavy sad misfortune, which on May-day befell : 

A sort of pretty Damsels from Edinburgh took their way, [pron. Edinbro.'' 
Towards JJristo-town and the Sheen's wells, only to fetch in May," etc. 

On the same sheet was reprinted a song on ' The Benefit of Marriage ; or, 
The Married Man's good Fortune, with his Counsel to Young Batchelors. 
Tune is, A Young Man's Advice. (Earlier edition, Black-letter, four cuts, has 
London, Printed for E. Andreivs, at the White-Lion, near Eye-corner, c. 1667.) 

" A Man that had a pretty young wife, who closely unto him did cling, sir, 
J\ And lov'd him as dearly as her life, which to him much comfort did bring, 
They liv'd in love and true content, and oftentimes in merriment [sir. 

He us'd this song to sing, sir : 
' Once I lay with another man s wife, and I lay in a great deal of danger ; 
But noiv I have gotten a wife of my own 
I scorn to pick on another man's bone, 

For I lye at a Rack and a Manger.'' 

" ' T would not be unmarried again for all the world's rich treasure, 
For whilst I a Batchelor did remain, I never enjoy'd such pleasure ; 
But till such time as I was wed, a dumpish, heavy life I led, 
With sorrow beyond all measure. 

' ' ' Did men but know the worth of a Wife, they would no longer tarry ; 

But every one to better his life would quickly make haste and marry : [found 
Altho' with Creatures the world doth abound, yet for man's use there cannot be 
A help that is so necessary. Once L lay,'' " etc. 

The chorus of this lively ditty was quoted by Thomas Southern, in his comedy 
of 'The Maid's Last Prayer; or, Any, rather than Fail,' 1693. To the rakes 
of the town the song offered a wholesome moral. They despised warnings, until age 
and sickness came. Then, in arrest of sentence they pleaded : First — " Woman 
is quite as immoral and wanton as Man ; she is often the temptress, not the 
victim." (Examples are on pp. 691 to 695, and 703.) Sico)id— il Nature 
ensnnres poor humanity, alike in nis strength and in his weakness ; assailing him 
within by mutinous passions, and outwardly with 'creatures' to be coveted." 

" Thou, who did'st with pitfall and with gin 
Beset the road I was to wander in, 

Thou wilt not with Predestined Evil 'round 
Enmesh, and then impute my Fall to Sin ! " — Rubdidt, Ixxx. 


©orn*JFafc at C&adton, in 1685. 

You horned fumbling Cuckolds, in City, Court, or Town, 

You're summon d here, and must appear, your fine to render down ; 

With pickaxe, spade, and shovel, and basket, you must go, 

To join each horned brother : Cuckolds all a row" — Vol. vii, p. 195. 

THE unique ballad of ' Hey for Horn-Fair! ' was mentioned on 
p. 549, and is now given on p. 665. It relates the very 
curious custom, annually held at that date, 1685, and nearly to 
the present time, on the Thames shore at Charlton, in Kent. It 
is perhaps the most remarkable of all the Kentish ballads, and was 
never hitherto reprinted. In our vol. vii, pp. 194 to 196, 1890, 
we gave a full account of Charlton Horn-Fair ; anticipatory of this 
present reproduction of two citations or summonses, both ballads 
rare, and now preserved from the chance of the originals being 
destroyed. The small woodcuts help to illustrate the details, the 
husbands going with baskets, picks, and shovels, to dig gravel at 
the gravel-pit and prepare a path for their wives. Certainly they 
needed to ' mend their ways ' on S. Luke's Day. ' The Scolding- 
Wife's Vindication ' (vii, 197) boasted of her kicking and cuffing the 
hen-pecked husband. She thus ended her answer to his Complaint : 

" I solemnly do declare (believe me, this is true) 
He shall dig gravel at next Horn-Fair, and that he is like to do.'' 

The ' Carman's Wife ' in the present vol. viii, p. 704, announces — 

" Thy Master, I 'le swear, if once he should cavil, 

We'll send to dig gravel, with friends at Horn-Fair ! " 

Mischief enough : before ecclesiastical lawyers touted for divorces. 


662 Apocryphal Origin of Horn-Fair. 

A burlesque account of the foundation of Horn-Fair is given in 
an unprinted poem, of 1675 (Brit. Mus. Add. MS. 23904, f. 46t-o.). 
entitled ' Actaeon ; or, The Original of Horn-Fair.'' It begins : — 

lOme time about the month of July, 
Or else our ancient authors do lye, 
Diana — whom poetic noddies 
Would have us think to be some goddess, 
(Tho' in plain truth a witch she was 
Who sold grey pease at Ratcliffe-Qross) — 

Went to the Upsitting of a neighbour, [ = Gossips' Feast. 

Having before been at her labour. 
The Gossips had of punch a bowl-full, 
Which made them all sing, " be joyfull ! " 

Filled with mirth they take boat at Limehouse, and are sculled 
to Erith, " where Punchinello once was Sheriff," and, after drinking 
Nantz, go "to a stream which comes from Dartford." They 
disport therein after the fashion of * The Maids a Washing themselves'' 
(p. 548), but in broad daylight, until they are surprised by the 
hounds of Actaeon, " a country gent, who hard by lived, somewhere 
in Kent." At the ' JNegromantick spells' of Diana, the man becomes 
chased. His wife completes his punishment. 

And soon of Horns a pair most florid 
Were by her grafted on his forehead, .... 
And then his rage, which over-power'd him, 
Made Poets say his dogs devour'd him. 

At Cuckold's- Point he dy'd with sadness ; 
Few in his case now show such madness ! 
While Gossips, pleas' d at his sad case, 
Strait fix'd his Horns just on the place, 
Lest the memory on 't should be forgotten, 
When they, poor souls ! were dead and rotten. 
And then, from Qu n en Die, got a Patent, 
On Charlton-Green to set up a Tent, 
Where once a year, with friends from Wapping, 
They told how they were taken napping. 

The following Age improv'd the matter, 
And made two dishes of a platter : 
The tent where they us'd to repair 
Is now become a jolly Fair, 
Where, every eighteenth of October, 
Come citizens, demure and sober, 
With basket, sbovel, pickaxe stalking, 
To make a way for 's wife to walk in : [ =for wives. 

Where having laid out single money, 
In buying Horns for dearest Honey, 

O'er furmity, pork, pig, and ale, 

They cheer their souls and tell this tale. Jin 10. 

In simple fact, the association of bullocks' horns with Charlton 
Fair is more easily explained, it being held on S. Luke's Day, 1 8th 
October, and the horned ox was as closely symbolical for S. Luke as 
the eagle was for S. John, or the winged lion for S. Mark, and the 
angel for S. Matthew. " Very well: I hope here be truths." 

Candidates for Horn-Fair Celebrity. 663 

It would be wrong to imagine that among ' London Citizens,' 
whose wives played the wanton, none but tradesmen and carmen 
suffered as victims of female infidelity. Dean Overall of St. Paul's 
Cathedral (according to John Aubrey, MS. 8, fols. 93, 94) had 
a wife whose beauty and levity were equally conspicuous. " Among 
those who were charmed by her was Sir John Selby, of Yorkshire — 
1656; old Mistriss Tyndale [of the Priory, near Eadon-piers, see 
p. 569, ante], who knew her, remembers a song made on her and 
Sir John, part whereof was this, viz. : — 

' The deane of Pauleys did search for his wife, 
And where d 'ye thinke he found her ? 
Even upon Sir John Selby's bed, 
As flatt as any flounder.' Etc. 

" On these two lovers was made this following copie of pastorall 
verses — vide the ballad booke in Museo Sheldoniano, e.g. — : 

1 Downe lay the shepherd swaine, so sober and demure, 
Sighing for his love in vaine, so bonny and so pure. 
With his head on hillock lowe, and his arms akimboe, 
And all was for the losse of her : hye nonny nonny noe." 1 ' 

[The present Editor reprinted the eight stanzas, ' The Shepherd's Lamentation 
for the losse of his Love,' from a printed copy, dated 1656, viz. Choice Drolleri/, 
p. 65 ; perhaps the identical ' Ballad-Book' and exemplar mentioned by Aubrey. 
The true reading of the third half-line is, " Wishing for his wench again." 
but Aubrey substituted the line, " Sighing for his love in vaine." Cf. p. 691.] 

The ballad of the London Citizen and his wife (given on p. 604), 
mildly objectionable though it was, put the case clearly on behalf 
of the female Kespondent; and not on the part of the Plaintiff 
Petitioner. It explains the cause of ninety per cent, of such marital 
mischances ; particularly those of solemnly lugubrious tradesmen 
during the Restoration Mid-lent carnival, betwixt Civil War and 
Revolution days. Many prodigal sparks were idle and running 
wild, gaily attired, haunting the city, on pretence of negotiating 
loans on mortgages or post-obits, and invariably being fleeced 
mercilessly by usurers. They paid court to the traders' wives, 
and 'recovered their expenses,' half from a selfish policy and half 
from mere sensual wantonness. Sometimes the coruuto was a 
wittol, who had spread the net, not vainly, in sight of the doomed 
bird. If anyone deserved compassion, it was the misguided wife ; 
who had been neglected while her husband was absorbed in 
business. She believed the flatteries of a seducer, whom she had 
neither sense to distrust nor virtue to resist. No better example could 
be found than one offered by the healthy-minded Sir "Walter 
Scott, where a wronged husband, John Christie, shows pity to his 
deluded young wife on her repentance. He removes her from the 
crowd of revellers, disregards their 'flouts and jeers,' and bears 
his own humiliation with true dignity. 

6C4 The Final Suppression of Horn-Fair. 

" ' How often have I told thee, when thou wert at the gayest and the lightest, 
that pride goeth before destruction, and a haughty spirit before a fall? Vanity 
brought folly, and folly brought sin, and sin hath brought death, his original 
companion. Thou must needs leave duty, and decency, and domestic love, to 
revel it gaily with the wild and with the wicked ; and there thou liest like a 
crushed worm .... Thou hast done me much wrong— dishonoured me among 
friends — driven credit from my house, and peace from my fireside. But thou 
wert my first and only love, and I will not see thee an utter castaway, if it 
lies with me to prevent it. Bise up, woman, and follow me.' 

" He raised her up by the arm, while, with streaming eyes and bitter sobs, 
she endeavoured to express her penitence. 

" Lowest offe .... exclaimed: 'Ay, let them go! the kind-hearted, 
believing, forgiving husband — the liberal, accommodating spouse ! Oh what a 
generous creature is your true London husband ! Horns hath he, but, tame as 
a fatted ox, he goreth not.' " — Fortunes of Nigel, cap. xxxvi. 

This anticipates Arthur's arraignment of the guilty Guinevere. 

The notoriety of shrews and wantons, with the dastardly conduct 
of their henpecked husbands, such as Tom Farthing (pp. 671, 701), 
led them to bo mocked at the Charlton revels. 

" Horn Fair is happily placed in the almanack, so that people 
who live by shows, rope-dancing and the like, can go from Stepney 
Fair to Charlton, and so from Charlton to Croydon Fair." Thus 
wrote Sir Walter Besant, describing incidentally the Horn-Fair 
of 1756 in his novel, ' The World Went Very Well Then? The 
book is full of memorable studies of life and character. It displays 
the neighbourhood of Deptford and ' Redriff ' — that is, Rotherhithe. 

" The visitors, if the day is fine, begin to come down the river as early as 
eight in the morning, and for the most part they remain where they land, ;it 
Cuckold's Point, Bedriff, eating and drinking until the procession is formed, 
which starts at eleven or thereabouts, and by that time there is a vast crowd, 
indeed, gathered together about the stairs, and the river is crowded with boats 
carrying visitors from London Budge, or even from Chelsea. As for the 
quarrels of watermen and the splashing of the passengers, and the exchange of 
scurrilous jokes, abuse, and foul language, it passes belief .... Those who 
join in the procession array themselves in strange garments : some are dressed 
like wolves, some like bears, some like lions ; some, again, like wild savages, and 
some like Frenchmen, Spaniards, Bussians, or the lusty Turk, and some wear 
fearful masks ; but all are alike in this respect, that they wear horns tied upon 
their heads in various fashions. The women among them, however, who ought 
rather to be at home, do not wear horns upon their heads [ot course not : they 
are supposed to be the bestowers, not the wearers, of these excrescences], but 
masks and dominoes .... This magnificent procession, which is almost as 
good as the Lord Mayor's Show, leaves Botherhithe, headed by drum and fife, 
at eleven in the forenoon, and marches through Deptford, across the bridge by 
way of the London Koad, through Greenwich to Charlton Common." — The 
World Went Very Well Then, chapter xv, 1887. 

So thoroughly sound a writer as Besant makes no display of 
the licentious folly that used to be flaunted by both sexes at 
Charlton's Horn-Fair. Nevertheless, at the date ascribed, 1756, 
wanton disorders were rife. The Fair lost its legal sanction and 
privileges in 1768, but continued to be held irregularly, until it 
was finally suppressed, so late as 1872. 


[Pepysian Collection, IV, 128. Probably unique.] 

i^eg for J^ortHfair; 


IRoom for CtickoIDss, Ijm comr0 a Companp! 

To the Tune of, The Winchester Wedding. [ = The King's Jig: vii, p. 208.] 
Tbis may be Printed. R[oger] L[e] S[trange]. 

AT Charlton tbere was a Fair, where lads and lasses did meet ; 
Young Johnny and Jenny came there, to dance to tbe fiddle so sweet. 
Brisk Sue, she led up a Dance, and called for Sellenger's Round ; 
And Nelly to Will did advance, and neatly tript o're the ground : 
Fair Frances, with her fine meen, and Dorothy, gay as a Queen, 
With Fanny and pritty-faced Nanny, the glory of all the Green. 

The Wives from their houses fled, and thither with joy did repair, 
Forsaking their Husbands' dull bed, to find out Gallants at Horn-Fair ; 
There kisses with glasses go round, upon the Maids' Marmalet check, 
And many sweet pleasures were found, which vainly their Husbands did seek. 

Poor Johnny to Betty did call, and pray'd her to keep her at home ; 

But Billy was silly to bawl, since Cuckolds must have their doom. 

666 Hey for Horn-Fair ! at Charlton. 

The Lantliorn they vainly expose, an honest man there for to find ; 

Their light and their labour they loose, for they'l with their Misses he kind. 

Although their Husbands them love, their wives they seldom do please ; 

This Kitty most kindly does prove, 'tis Christopher gives them their ease : 
Young Christopher must be their mate, their Gallant agen and agen, 
Sweet kissing must never be missing : no pleasures are like youug men. 

Close under the hedges they lye, and there they sweet Furmety eat ; 

And if their old Husbands stand by, the Wives will put on them the cheat : 

When Roger had found out fair Nell, he takes her a little aside, 

But what he did there I sha' nt tell, with playing at Whoope-all-hide ! 

'Tis then the sweet pleasure begius, the Lover enjoys with the Lass ; 

One Billing oft makes the Maid willing to dally upon the grass. 

The Fairings they give on this Morn obtain them a jolly renown, [p. 672. 

All sorts and all sizes of Horns, the A-la-mode Gifts of the Town ; 
The caps and the watches they give, to the Fine, and the Tatter' d, and Torn, 
They without distinction receive, for there they buy nothing but Horn : 

Let the Cuckolds assemble all here, and for their dooms patiently wait, [pate. 

Here's Horns for the brows of each Deer, guilded-Horns for the Rich-man's 

And thence to fair Greenwich they came, to drink a sweet Bumper of Wine, 
To raise up the hearts of each dame, and make them look briskly and fine : 
'Tis Wine that doth heighten Delight, and gives to Love's torments an ease; 
Like Love, [it] can shorten the night, and e'ry young pallat can please. 

Then Claret created Desire, within the soft breast of each Dame ; 

New kindled a lovely bright fire, until that Aurora came. 

Let Husbands take care of their Wives, if that they are mindful of Fame; 
And though they live troublesome lives, let 'em keep in the Buxom youug Dame : 
Their treasure may quickly be lost, and cause them to mourn and complain, 
And when the Wife's tumbl'd and tost, the sighs of a Husband are vain : 

When once the Thief findeth his prey, he presently seizeth his Game; 

And in the night all Nymphs will play, though they live to repent the same. 

Sib., — These are to warn you, now you are lawfully Summoned, 
that belong to the ffeti-peck't Frigat, to come to Cuckold' s-Point, 
not only Compleated, Bifronted, and Fortified, but also with a 
Basket, Pick- Axe, and Shovel, on the Nineteenth of October, 1685. 
By eight of the Clock in the Morning precisely, then to be ready, with 
the rest of your Brethren, to march to the Gravel-Pits to dig Gravel 
to make a Foot-Path for your Wives to go to Horn-Fair; and 
that Decency may be observed in such a numerous Assembly, you 
are hereby enjoy ned to respect Seniority, that the Ancientest of 
the Tribe may have Precedency, which cannot be so well discernable 
by their age as by the broad Palm of their Heads. Herein 
you are not to fail, under the Penalty of a Garret Correction, and 
forfeiture of all your Goods and Chattels, Except your Master's 
Joynture. Thomas Can't-be-quiet Beadle. 

Printed for C. Dennisson, at the Stationers' -Arms within Aldgate. 

[Black-letter. For the two woodcuts we substitute an appropriate one on p. 665, 
and two others on p. 661. Date, 1685 : 18 Oct. being Sunday.'] 


[Wood's Coll., 417, art. 12 ; Osterley Park Coll. ; Lindes, 502.] 

3 General &ummon$ foe rjjoge belonging to tljt 

Ea appear at (Euckolo's^omt on the 18th of tljt's instant ©ctoucr. 

Licensed according to Order. 

YOUR Presence is required and are hereby lawfully Summoned 
(as belonging to the Hen-Peck' 'd Frigate) to appear at 
Cuckold's Point (being the ancient place of our rendezvous) on the 
18th of this Instant October, precisely by Seven of the clock in the 
Morning, well fitted with a Basket, Pit-Axe, and Shovel, there to 
give your Attendance, till the List of your Brethren, the Knights 
of the Forked Order, is called over, and then, at the word of 
Command, to march in good order to the Gravel-Pits, there to dig 
Sand and Gravel for repairing the foot-ways, that your wives with 
their friends may have pleasure and delight in walking to Horn- 
Fair : whereof you are not to fail, under the Penalty of a Garret- 
Correction, and the forfeiture of all your Goods and Chattels, except 
your Master's Jointure. 

[Signed,] Thomas Cann't-Be-Quiet, Beadle. 

a jReto ^onrj on ©orn=jfatt\ 

Tune is, Ladies of London. [ByD'Urfey; date, 1685: vol.iii,p.369.] 

HEre is a summons for all honest Men 
Belonging to the Hen-peck'd Frigate ; 
And I will tell you the place where and when, 

Both Gravel and Sand for to dig it : 
To mend their ways, 'tis no idle tale, 

llemember your forehead's adorning, 
At Cuckold's Point you must meet without fail 
By seven o'clock in the morning. 

Shovels and Pit- Axes you must provide — [=pkk-axcs. 

It is but in vain for to cavil ; 
You must bring with you a Basket beside, 

In order to carry the Gravel, 
That your sweet Wives may walk to the Fair, 

With Gallants that dote on their beauty : 
See that you do it with diligent care, 

Consider it is but your duty. 

Taylors with Turners, and Coblers too, 

Also Barbers, Pipers, and Scrapers ; 
Nay, and besides there 's a notable Crew, 

A thousand or two of Ale-Drapers : 

668 Summons for the Hen-pecked, to attend at Horn-Fair. 

All must appear and patiently wait, 

While they have receiv'd their direction ; 

And if our Laws you shall here violate, 
Beware of a Garret-Correction. 

But if you do it with perfect delight, 

That Woman that finds you regard her, 
She to requite you will sure dub you knight, 

And one of the Forked Order ; [Gf. p. 698, iv, 36S. 

Fc" there w[ere] some last Year made so, 

And one was kind Robin my neighbour : 
This may encourage you freely to go, 

As knowing you sha'n't lose your labour. 

Doing of this you may lead a sweet life, 

As long as you flourish together : 
Can any man be too kind to his Wife? 

I pray you now do but consider. 
Therefore, I pray, be sure to attend, 

And be not of labour too sparing ; 
When they return, you will find in the end 

They '11 bring you a Hoax for a Fairing. 

Printed for J. Beacon. [Perhaps written by Abraham Miles?] 

[Mixed -letter. Woodcut, similar to that on p. 665, a stag-borned man offering 
to a toper a paper marked ' Prepare for Horn-Fair.' Behind sit two other 
horned men boozing and smoking at an open inn, with sign of the Stag's- Horns. 
Date, 1686, or later. Probably a year after 'Hey for Horn-Fair' (p. 665.)] 

Abraham Miles wrote ' The Dubbed Knight of the Forked Order,' bis favourite 
subject of jest (see vol. iv, p. 368) ; also, ' Hey boys, my father 's dead ! " 
which follows on p. 699. Another ballad (registered to Francis Grove, June 9, 
1637), was reissued in Wit and Drollery (" Jovial Poems " 1661), beginning thus : 

" Not long ago, as all alone I lay upon my bed, 

'Twixt sleeping and waking, a toy came in my head, 
Which caused me in mind to be my meaning for to show 
My skill and wit : and then I writ ' Cuckolds all a Row .'"' 

Cuckoldom and shrewishness were bantered incessantly in the literature of the 
sixteenth century. No malice poisoned the rough jests and horseplay at Charlton 
Jlorn-Fair. Eevellers spent money freely, drank to excess, and sang loudly, to 
drown the noise of the symbolical horns, or the cries of Ursula who sold roast 
pig;. No one complained of ill-usage. The rollicking fun passed harmlessly ; 
' Zeal-of-the-Land Busy' being absent. The sham saint provokes the sinner. 

Some writers made the sensual passion of ' Female llamblers ' their sole theme. 
R. Burton in 1655 printed Philo- Fancy's ' Maids, look about You ! ' (to the tune 
of, Wet and Weary) : 

" As I went forth one Evening tide, it was my chance to spy one, 
Was walking by a River side, but he would not come nie one. 
A maid was stoupin' hard by him, a gathering of Primroses; 
As she gathered by the spring, she made them up in posies. 

Hark how the Blade did coy, pretending he did wooe her ! 

But he within his heart did mock, on purpose to undoe her.'" Etc. 


a IBmtt of &natoe$> 

" A Brace of Sinners, for no good, 

Were order'd to the Virgin Mary's shrine, 
Who at Loretto dwelt in wax, stone, wood, 
And in a fair white wig look'd wondrous fine. 

" Fifty long miles had these sad rogues to travel, 

With something in their shoes much worse than gravel : 

In short, their toes so gently to amuse, 

The priest had order'd peas into their shoes." 

Dr.. AVolcot's Pilgrims and the Peas. 

THAT the worst women who were committed to the tender mercies 
of Bridewell and its "discipline" (see p. 569, ante), could 
always be matched with such "saucy companions" as this 'Tom 
Farthing ' or the ' Swaggering; Man/ is beyond dispute. 

' Tom Farthing' figured in A Perfect Collection of Songs a la Mode, 167-5. 
A ' charge' had been issued in the previous century by the renowned Dogberry 
to Seacoal, Oatecake, and others of tbe Messina Watch to " comprehend all 
vagroni men." Their successors in London might have fulfilled their office, 
according to their ability and discernment, by locking up Tom Farthing, the 
' Ingenious Braggadocio,' and the ' Swaggering Man.' As the Ancient Mariner 
acknowledged, without a blush, they " were a ghastly crew ! " Pilgrimage never 
led them to the shrine at Loretto, but to Tyburn, and gave them no "liberty 
to boil their peas." 

The Eoxb. Coll. exemplar is a late reprint. The original suggestion for 
it was an earlier ballad (see vol. iii, p. 576), of date 1662, entitled ' Your 
humble servant, Madam!' beginning, "I am a blade that from an old trade 
have taken out a new one : 'tis onely this, to court and kiss, swear oatbs, 
and ne're a true one." ' To a very fine Northern tune,' identified with Have 
at thy Coat, Old Woman (see Popular Music, p. 365). 

The recrudescence of this ' Cheating Lover ' as a ' Swaggering Man,' after 
having been described ' like a saucie rascall, Sirrah ! '" in 'The Ladye's Vindication' 
(vol. iii, p. 582), may be accounted for by disorderly taste and attraction toward 
"low life." In 1849, twenty-seven years after the 'Tom and Jerry' craze 
begotten by Pierce Egan, the leaders in literature, M.P.'s, rising barristers and 
medical students, listened delightedly at 'Paddy Green's' to J. W. Sharp 
singing, " My name it is Sam Hall, chimbley-sweep ; bis : I 've robbed both sjreat 
and small, and now I pays for all," etc., ending with his own forecast, " When 
I goes up Holborn-hill, in a cart— in a cart— and at Tyburn makes my will, 
d. your eyes!" — an oath closing each stanza. Vulgarity changes the outward 
garb only, varying disguises, now with music-hall ' Coster Ballads ' or Tara-ra- 
boom-de-aye fandangoes, as they did earlier with ' Willikins and his Dinah,' 
or ' The Rat-catcher's Daughter.' We still use the cant of ' Progress.' But Dr. 
Ponnoner's mummy knew how to bit the nail on the head — rem acu tangere : 
he " merely said that ' Great Movements ' were awfully common things in bis 
day [four or five thousand years ago] ; and as for Progress, it vvas at one time quite 
a nuisance, but it never progressed." (E. A. Poe's Some Words with a Mummy.) 
The mummy also records the consolidation of certain Provincial States — whose 
" habit of bragging was enormous — into the most odious and insupportable 
despotism that ever was heard of upon the face of the earth." When asked tbe 
name of the usurping tyrant, he replies, as well as he could recollect — " It was 
Mob." But this anglicism of ' Mob ' scarcely ranges back earlier than 1679. 
We must evidently read, 6 Arjfxos, or ?j ArjfxoKpaTid. 


[Roxburghe Collection, II, 447 ; Jersey, II, 67=Lindes, 1205.] 

Com jfartFnng;; 

©r, W$t JHatrt'rti OToman's Complaint. 

To a New Tune, well known by the same Name [Tom Farthing]. 

[He belongs to p. 622. She is Mrs. Farthing.'] 

TOm Farthing, Tom Farthing, where hast thou bin, Tom Farthing ? 
Twelve a clock ere thou come in ; tour or five ere thou begin. 
Lye all night and do nothing : 'twould make a woman weary, weary ; 
' Twoidd make a woman weary. 

ITad'st thou bin a lively Lad, and giv'n me part of what thou'st had, 
It would have made my heart full glad, and made me wondrous merry, merry ; 
And made me wondrous merry. 

Put thou art a Country clown, sometimes up and sometimes down ; 
Still doing what was never yet done : 'twould make a woman sorry, sorry ; 
' Twould make a woman sorry. Etc. 

2Tf)e .Second |3art. To the same Tune. 

Tom Farthing, Tom Farthing, thou mak'st me mad, Tom Farthing ! 
'Twas not for this I did thee wed, nor brought thee to my marriage-bed, 
But 'twas to loose my maiden-head, of which I 'm wondrous weary ; 
Of which I am wondrous weary. 

Could' st thou once but do [what 's meet], and show thy self to be no cheat, 

My very heart with joy would beat, And 'twould make me ivondrous merry. Etc. 

A Brace of Knaves for 'Female Ramblers.' 671 

But by thy side, thou idle drone ! I lie like one that lies alone ; 

Aud remedy I can get none, ivhich makes me wondrous sorry, sorry. Etc. 

And 'though a Woman's such' (you cry), 'that no one can her wants supply,' 
I 'le find out one shall satisfie ; and make me wondrous merry. Etc. 

For since thou never yet has done 't, I'le hide no more (a pox upon 't !), 
But venture, let what will come on 't, and never more be sorry, sorry. 

Tom Farthing, Tom Farthing ! a warning be, Tom Farthing ! 
Henceforward that no woman take a fumbler, for Tom Farthing's sake, 
Unless she will him Cuckold make, for he '11 make her doubly tceary, weary. 

But if a Husband must be had, try him first, or else you 're mad ; 
Then should he prove a capering Lad, he '11 make you wondrous merry, merry, 
And of him you'' I ne'r be iveary. Jlttis. 

Printed for P. Brooksby, at the Golden-ball, near the Hospital-gale, in West 


[Black-letter. Four woodcuts: 1st, the man in a tessellated alcove, vi, 7G ; 
2nd, woman, p. 670 ; 3rd and 4th, both on p. 460. Date, 1675.] 

^ ^r^t . - 

[Eoxburghe Collection, III, 484.] 

Cf)e Staggering e^an* 

[Tune of, Have at thy Coat, Old Woman. See p. 669.] 

I Am a blade that hath no trade, most people do adore me ; 
And I can Hector, swagger, and lie, and drive a town before me. 
I have a Wife of wanton life ; she strives me to trappan, Sir ; 

I nothing say, but hike my w ay : ' There goes the Swaggering Man, Sir! ' 

With my red silk hose, and square-toed shoes, I Hector, swear, and swagger ; 
And every coxcomb that I meet, I push him with my dagger. 
At cards and dice I am the man, the noted gamester's plan, Sir ; 

1 love my pelf, and cock my felt : ' There goes the Swaggering Man, Sir ! ' 

then I go to the Royal Exchange, where merchants they are walking ; 
All this seems something odd to me, they are [so] idly talking. 

But if a purse, or a gold watch, come by the sleight of han', Sir, 

/ nothing say, but hike my way : ' There goes the Swaggering Man, Sir ! ' 

From thence I to the [Hose'] Tavern go, where a waiter does attend me ; 

1 call for Liquor of the best, the Ladies do commend me. 

Behind the door there stands ray score, the shot they do demand, Sir, 

I nothing say, but hike my way : ' There goes the Swaggering Man, Sir /' 

From thence I go to Pater-noster-roiv, where they deal in silk and sattin ; 
I pay for one and hike off three : all this is no false-latin. 
But if I am catch'd, then I 'm snatch' d, and obliged to give an answer ; 
I'm guilty found, and must come down, from being a Swaggering Man, Sir. 

But now I have spent all my means among those rakish fellows ; 
And am at last condemn'd, and cast, to hang upon you gallows : 
I sail to Tyburn in a cart, my body to advance, Sir ; 

The ladies cry, as I pass by, "Don't hang the Swaggering Man, Sir ! " 

[White-letter, with one cut, but no colophon. Date, circd 1697.] 


Ctoo TMlans of JFairing*. 

" Sweet hearts, we shall be rich ere we depart, 
If Fairings comes thus plentifully in." 

Love's Labour Lost, Act v, sc. 2. 

SHAKESPEARE, in The Winter's Tale, Act iv, sc. 4, shows us 
the country lasses Mopsa and Dorcas being treated by their 
swain to purchases from the pedlar Autolycus, already promised to 
them as 'Fairings.' When there are 'Two Maids wooing a Man, 1 
even a golden apple brings discord among jealous goddesses. 

Mopsa. — T was promised them against the feast ; but they come not too late now. 

Dorcas. — He hath promised you more than that, or there be liars. 

Mopsa. — He hath paid you all he promised you : may be, he has paid you more, 

which will shame you to give him again. 
Clown. — Is there no manners left among maids? Is there not milking- 

time, when you are going to bed ... to whistle off these secrets ? 
Mopsa. — I have done. Come, you promised me a tawdry-lace and a pair of 

sweet gloves. — Winter' s Tale, loc. cit. 

Thomas Bowne's ' Fairing for Young Men and Maids,' beginning, " As 
Thomas and Mary did meet," was reprinted in our vol. vii, p. 111. Another 
ballad, printed for John Trundle (who died between July 1626 and June 1627) 
was 'The Lover's Gift; or, A Fairing for Maids,' beginning, "My Love she 
is faire, surpassing compare." She is Edmund's Priscilla (Pepys Coll., I, 250). 

Another bears title of ' Kissin? Goes by Favour ; or, A new[ly] composed merry 
disposed Ditty, showing how kissing began when the world began, and is like 
to [go on while the world lasts].' The tune is our accommodating Lass of 
Lynn's Aye, marry and thank you too ! (see vol. vii, p. 421, etc.). Printed for 
Thomas Yere, at the Angel, in Guiltspur-street, without Newgate. It begins — 
" To complement and kisse some holds to be a sin, 
But I can tell you, first of all, how kissing did begin : 
First Adam he kist Eve,, and so he got a sonne ; 
'Tis above five thousand years agoe since kissing first begun : 
Since kissing first begun, brave boyes ! since kissitig first begun ; 
'Tis above five thousand years agoe since kissing first begun.'''' 

' He that has the most money, he is the best man ' (words of a lost ditty), is 
the tune named for our two next ballads. They were written and published as 
a pair. One is by C. IL, the other by J. P., whom we identify as Charles 
Hammond and John Playford. They are unique, and remained hidden, until 
a recent year, when we met them. Both were printed for Francis Grove circd 1655. 
This date is printed on the same C. H.'s broadside ballad of ' The Birds' Noats 
on May-day last, wherein many passages were discovered about London in the 
fields between young men and maids, Lovers and their Sweet-hearts, Lords and 
Ladies, Men and their Mistresses.' It begins, " In the merry month of May, 
Avhen pretty birds do sing, with chirping and with sugared noats to welcome in 
the Spring." (See vol. vi, pp. 323 and 309, where three stanzas are quoted.) 
Printed for Eichard Burton in Smithfield, dated 1655. The tune here named, 
' Doivn in a tneadow[, the river running clear],' is ' The Haymarket Mask,' in 
Laur. Price's ' Country People's Felicity ; or, A brief Description of Pleasure.' 

" 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 leasure." 


[Trowbesh Transcripts from ' Book of Fortune ' Coll. of broadsides.] 

2L jf airing for Qoun$*S®tn ; 

%U Carrier ILofjcr* 

"Who is resolved in his mind, upon a merry strain, 
To love, but not long, uulesse his Love loves him againe ; 
He wishes all Batchelors to be rul'd by this Song, 
And then their Sweet-hearts should not foole them so long. 
To the Tune of, He that hath the most Money, he is the best Man. 

[ The man belongs to this ballad ; 
and the woman top. 193, ante.~\ 

J 1st, you brave youngsters that live in the City, 
J And likewise you Countrey-lads hearken a while, 
Here are some verses, I hope they will fit ye, 

Which when you have heard may cause you to smile. 
I loved a Maid once, but she did deceive me, 

And for the losse of her I 'le not complaine : 
No beauties of Freedom shall ever bereave me, 
For I cannot love if not loved againe. 

My Love, for beauty, I needs must commend her, 

And for her carriage it seem'd very faire ; 
But such a politick Wit did attend her, 

That I had like to be caught in fooles' snare : 
For, by experience be sure I can tell thee, 

False love will puzzell and trouble thy braine ; 
Then let not fond smiles and glances compel! thee 

To love, and \_yef\ not be beloved againe. 

vox,, vni. 

2 x 

674 A Fairing for Young Men. 

She in my company often consented 

For to be merry and passe time away, 
And for a "while I rested contented, 

Though in her carriage she seem'd very coy. 
But when I perceived her subtle delusion, 

Her humours no longer I then would maintaine, 
For 'tis a madness, and breeds a confusion, 

To love and not be beloved againe. [text, not to be. 

The more you seeke to a Maid, she will slight you, 

Strive for to please her as well as you can ; 
The more you intreate her, the less she '1 requite you : 

Such fooles some maidens do make of a Man ! 
Then they '1 fly from you, thinking to prove you, 

But for their absence never complaine ; 
The more then you slight them, the better they '1 love you, 

For Fie never love if not loved againe. 

3H)e .Scccmti ^art, to the same Tune. 

80me, like tbe wind, will be always changing, 
And yet with fancies will lead you along : 
"When that their minds on others are ranging, 

Thinking to charm you with their false tongue, 
They '1 kisse you, they '1 clip you, they '1 tell you a story, 

When all your time will prove labour in vain ; 
At last they will leave you, and [count] that a glory : [t. take. 
But Fie never love if not loved again. 

Batchelors all, that heare this my Ditty, 

Take my advise, and be ruled by me ; 
Slight your coy Lasses in Countrey and Citty, 

Then to your humours they '1 quickly agree. 
The more you creep to them, the sooner they '1 leave you ; 

Keep a while from them you '1 hear them complain ; 
Tell them you '1 leave them, if once they deceive you ; 

Then if you '11 love them they 7 love you again. 

Lasses there be, too, that will fawn upon you, 

And make you believe they do love you so deare, 
When 'tis to try what they can get on you, [=from you. 

To feast their chops with wine and good cheare. 
One, shall be namelesse, did serve them all finely, 

For to a Tavern he led them away, 
Call'd for good Cheere, and welcom'd them kindly, 

And left those Lasses the reckoning to pay. [Qf. p. c-18. 

A Fairing for Young Men. 675 

Have a care ! have a care ! Young men, be carefull ! 

Maids are too cunning for you now-a-dayes ; 
Some will be sullen and some will be cbeerefull, 

Some are too nimble, and some have delayes. 
Some Maids are wanton, and some Maids are civil, 

But I 'le chuse a Maid that means honest and plain : 
For some are too cunning, I think, for the Devil, 

But Fie love that Maid that will love me again. 

She that loves truly, be sure, will ne're leave thee, 

But faithful and constant will alwayes remaine, 
And of thy Estate she '1 never deceive thee, 

But give thee good counsel the same to maintain. 
She '11 ne're put you off with so many denyals, 

As some there be that delights in that straine, 
To waste your means and your time upon trialls, 

But if you love her she 7 love you againe. 

Tou Young-men all, I have sent you a Fairing ; 

They that are honest hearts beare it away ; 
And for to give it your loves be not sparing, 

For 'tis good counsell and truth, I dare say. 
Young men be carefull, but be not deceitfull, 

Let not your Sweet-hearts have cause to complain : 
If they prove constant, then prove not ungrateful, 

But if they love you, then love them again. 

C[harles] H[ammond]. 

London, Printed for Francis Grove, dwelling on Snow-hill. 

[Black-letter. Four cuts : 1st, reverse of woman, p. 542 ; 2nd, man, p. 542 ; 
3rd, astonished man, p. 673 ; 4th, lady, vii, 138. Date, circd 1655.] 

IT This is honest guidance to a happy wedding. Young men were counselled 
to celibacy, in ' The Batchelor's Delight ' (vol. iii, p. 723 : compare iv, 74, etc.), 
of which we quote one stanza, showing that hanging was chosen in preference 
to the matrimonial noose; except by ' Le Yieulx-par-Chemins' in Honore de 
Balzac's delightful mediaeval burlesque, Les Contes Drolatiques. 

" A thief once rode up Holborn-JHW, towards Oliver Cromwell's palace ; 

A maid that bore him some good will had begg'd him from the gallows : 
' no ! ' (quoth he), ' I 'le go to the gibb, and not be a slave to my own ribb : 
Drive on the cart, good fellows ! ' " — The Batchelor's Delight. 

By Edward "Wade, probably a brother of our John Wade, was written ' The 
Country Lasse's Good Counsel to all her Fellow-Maids : 
Wherein she doth make it plain appear 
That, of all living, a single life she loves most dear, 
And wishes [you] maidens all-a-row 
To take heed of false tongues where ever you go.' 

It begins, " Come, all you young damsels, where ever you dwell " (compare vii, 
526). We reprinted a different ' Maidens' Counsellor,' with its own burrien of 
A single life is free from care (vol. iv, p. 77) ; and another, with a burden of 
The Maid is the best that lies alone (in our Bag ford Ballads, p. 1020). 

J. P.'s ' Fairing ' (p. 676), warns maidens against the perils of marriage. 


[Trowbesh Transcripts of the unique ' Book of Fortune." 1 b.-l. Ballads.] 

a jFairing foe a2aitJS> 

Being the honest Maid's Councel to all other, 
Better than she had given her by her Mother : 
She wishes M aides in time for to be wary, 
And with what Young-men they intend to marry : 

A single life is gallant, she doth say ; 

For being bound perforce they must obey. 

To the Tune of, He that has the most money [he is the best man']. 

A LI you brave Damsels, come lend your attention, 
I a brave Fairing unto you will send ; 
The councel is honest of which I make mention, 
The verses are witty which here I have pen'd. 
Some young-men are honest, and some are deceitful, 
And soone with faire speeches will lead you away : 
Then chuse not a young-man the which is ungrateful, 
For when you, are bound, then you needs must obey. 

First I advise you, all that hear this Ditty, 

"With due admonition in time to be rul'd ; 

For young-men are cunning in Country and City, 

Then see that by policy you be not fool'd. 

Some will speak you most fair, thinking to insnare you, 

And many cunning baits [they] for you will lay ; 

But I wish all Maidens in time to be wary, 

For when you are bound, then you needs must obey. 

You that are single, and in haste would marry, 
Thinking you have stai'd your time over-long, 
Let me advise you forthwith to be wary, 

For hasty marriages oft produce wrong. [t. produceth. 

When you are wedded then comes care and trouble, 
Then farewel single life and Maidens' joy ; 
If Husbands be dogged, then woes do redouble, 
For when you are bound, then you needs must obey. 

What if they ' promise and vow, ' they do love you ! 
Yet ne'r the sooner do you them believe ; 
For it is but policy, some waies to prove you, 
Or by some flattering waies you to deceive. 
Some are so skilful and crafty in wooing, 
That they will follow you, both night and day ; 
But when they have gain'd you it proves your undoing : 
For when you are botmd, you needs must obey. 

Some young-men are civil, and wooe so demure, 
Butter would not melt in their mouth, you would think ; \N.B. 
But, when they have won you, they are crab[b]ed and sowre, 
And from their old promises straight they will shrink. 
He that looks most civill, as often is spoken, 
When he weds a Maiden her bones he will pay : 
Then let this to maidens be still a true token, 
For when you are bound, then you needs must obey. 

A Fairing for Maids: By J. P. 677 

Cf)e Seconti ^art. To the same Tune. 

THere 's many will promise you shall live most gallant, 
Until they have brought you unto their own Bow ; 
But when they have gain'd you, they will spend your talent : 
This by experience some maidens do know. 
Some do not wooe for love, nor for beauty, 
But seek after riches as much as they may : 
Then, maidens, ne'er yield unto such men in duty, 
For when you are bound, then you needs must obey. 

"Whilst you are single, there 's none to curb you : 

Go to bed quietly and take your ease. 

Early or late there 's none to disturb you, 

Walk abroad where you [will], and when you please. 

A single life is free from all danger ; 

Then, maids, embrace it, as long as you may, 

And never yeeld to neighbour or stranger, 

For when you are bound, then you needs must obey. 

When you are wedded, then farewel all pleasure ! 
[Unless] your Husband be loving and kind ; [t. And lest. 

M arrie in haste, you will repent at leasure, 
This by experience too many doe find. 
Children proceeding must have cloath[e] and diet, 
And Nurses' wages oft times you must pay : 
When Maids from such cares do stil' live in quiet, 
For when you are bound, then you needs must obey . 

Yet I will not any Maiden disparage, 

If she a constant Youth chance for to find ; 

Then let her joyn with him in lawful marriage, 

If he unto her be loving and kind. 

Where Love remaineth it is a great blessing ; 

But if men be froward and sullen, I say, 

There the women's woe is alwaies increasing, 

For when they are bound, then they needs must obey. 

Now in love I wish all Maids to consider 
These witty Verses which here I have pen'd ; 
Though the gift be small, yet [ac]cept of the giver [t. exc. 
This Fairing through all Parts to maidens I send. 
And so for to end with my old Resolution, 
The which is both honest and true, I dare saie, 
All Maidens be rul'd by this Song in conclusion, 
For when you are bound, then you needs must obey. 

J. P. [probably John Playford]. 


London, Printed for Fra[ncis~\ Grove, on Snow-hill. 

[Black-letter. Four woodcuts: 1st, man with twisted cloak, vii, 138; 2nd, 
hooded woman, vi, 178; 3rd, young Squire, vii, 279; 4th, Lady, p. 542. 
Date, circA 1655.] 

If The burden of this Fairing is proverbial ; answered by the ballad ' She is 
Bound, but won't Obey ; or, The Married Man's Complaint in choosing a Wife : 
Desiring other young men to have a care and to look before they leap.* Tune of, 
The West-Country Delight, or, Hey for Zommer set shire I [Popular Music, p. 542). 
It begins, " I am a married man truly " (see vol. vii, p. 429). Compare p. 696. 

678 The Original of ' What can a Young Lassie.' 

Popular as a Country Fairing, and at seaport towns, must have been the 
b.-l. ballad, now restricted to a unique exemplar, with title and burden of 
' A Kiss of a Seaman is worth two of Another; or, The Maiden's Loyalty.' 
Written by S. S., to the tune of Leave thee, leave thee (iii, 561). Printed 
for John Andrews at the White Lyon, in the Old Bayly, 1656-66. It begins, 

"When Venus did my heart inspire, 

And set my love-sick heart on tire. 

Young Cupid, with a strict commission, 

Did curse me with his own tuition. 
Love 's grown so hot that I can't it smother, 
A kiss of a Sea-man 's worth two of another.'''' 

Thirteen stanzas follow. S. S. was probably Sam Shepherd. He wrote 
' Love's Keturn; or, The Maiden's Joy : being a compendious Dialogue between 
two constant loyal-hearted Lovers.' It begins, " Arise from thy bed, my Turtle 
and Dear! " Tune of, [iWw] the Tyrant, or, The Maidens Sigh. Printed for 
F. Grove, on Snow-hill, 1654. This antecedent 'Maiden's Sigh ' has not yet 
been recovered, in time to be recorded in these final pages of Roxburghe Ballads. 

Another 'Fairing' celebrated the Origin of kissing, in eleven stanzas (seep. 672j. 

Cfce gcimfj Roman's Complaint 

" "\T7HAT can a young Lassie, what shall a young Lassie, 
V Y What can a young Lassie do wi' an auld man ? 

Bud luck on the pennie that tempted my minnie 
To sell her puir Jenny for siller an' Ian'. 

He 's always compleenin frae mornin to e'enin, 

He boasts an he hirples the weary day lang ; [coughs ; totters. 

He 's doyl 't and he 's dozin, his blude it is frozen : [_=doited; sleepy. 

dreary 's the night wi a crazy auld man ! 

" He hums and he hankers, he frets and he cankers, 

1 never can please him, do a' that 1 can ; 

He 's peevish an' jealous o' a' the young fellows, — 

dool on the day I met wi' an auld man ! 
My auld auntie Katie upon me taks pity ! 

1 '11 do my endeavour to follow her plan ; 

I'll cr^ss him, and wrack him, untill I heart-break him, 
And then his auld brass will buy me a new pan." 

Bukns, 1792, Scots' 1 Musical Museum, iv, 327. 

WHAT should a Young Woman do with an Old Man ? has been 
mentioned as a tune on p. 626 ; and previously on pp. 
195, 244, 245. We preserve from oblivion the unique original 
of this racy Black-letter ballad : one that is probably unknown to 
all the unqualified ' editors ' and commentators on Robert Burns. 
He had himself adapted either Jean Allardyce's or the traditionary 
Scottish version floating in Ayrshire, after it was forgotten in 
England, and composed on this theme one of his most delightful 
songs, signed B. in Johnson's Museum. The tune is cited (instead 
of Packing ton's Pound, which is inapplicable), in Wood's Coll., E. 25, 
fol. 29 : printed for Wm. Thackeray at the Sugar Loaf: the earliest 
known exemplar of ' The West- Country Crafty Maid'' (see p. 626). 


€l)e goung Wioman's Complaint ; 


SI Cafccat to all £paxt)gf to gate a cate goto tgep be 
^parried to £DIo flpen. 

The Tune is, 7F7«ff£ should a young Woman do ivith an old Man ? or, [iVbw] the 
Tyrant [hath stolen my dearest away : see vol. vi, p. 67]. 

COme, all you young damsels both beauteous and free, 
I 'le summon you all to listen to me : 
" A song of misguiding concerning my marriage ; 
Sorrow 's the cause of this my ill carriage." 
A Maiden of fifteene, as it may appear, 
She married an Old Man of Seventy-two year ; 
And by her misfortune, well prove it I can, 
That she is sore troubled ivith an Old Man. 

" When he sits down by me, he '11 presently blame me ; 
He often doth chide me, and threatens to lame me ; 
And fain would I hide me, but cannot tell where : 
He calls me ' young Giglet,' and sometimes ' bold whore ! ' 
But hold thy tongue, man, for I am none such; 
I dare not call ' Cuckold ! ' though I think as much." 
She throws by her bracelet, her hat, and her fan ; 
Sings, " Cursed be the time that I saw this Old Man ! " 

" To speak of his Livings, his land, and his fee, 
Or of his Relations, too tedious 'twill be ; 
His humping, his grumping, his cursing and swearing. 
He's almost quite blind, and hard of his hearing; 
His pate it is bauld, and his beard it is thin ; 
His breath it doth stink, [for he's canker'd within] : 
And now let him do what ever he can, 
Judge if it befitting to love this Old Man ? 

" In bed as I lye, he groaneth, he cryeth ; 
Like one that is dying in sorrow he lyeth : 
Instead of Love's blisses, he scratches and grumbles, 
And all the night long he tosses and tumbles. 
And [I] lying and dying, and telling the clock, 
Weeping and wailing, expecting a knock, 

And wiping away the tears as they ran : 
What shall a young woman do with an Old Man ? 

680 The Young Woman's Complaint. 

2The Second $3art, To the Same Tune. 

HE stoopes in the shoulders, and goes almost double, 
He is alwaies to me a continual trouble ; 
His breast it sticks forth, even almost with's snout, 
He seldom goes far without letting a rout. 
His hands they do shake, and he 's very lame, 
And all his whole body is quite out of frame ; 

His nose it is long, and his face pale and wan, 
With all the ill properties of an Old Man. 


"When he walks abroad with me, sometimes, in the street 
He limps and he stumbles — the boys they do see 't, 
And laugh him to scorn ; he creeps and he grumbles, 
He coughs and he spits, and at last he down tumbles. 
Then I cry and lament that e 're I was born ; 
But to 'quite his love, I 'le make him wear the horn. 
For let me do what ever I may, or can, 
I still shall be plagu'd with this doting Old Man. 

" If I with some young men do chance for to meet, 
And do but them friendly and courteously greet, 
Then he begins preseutly to scould and brawl, 
And a thousand base names he then will me call : 
Which makes me with grief and sorrow lament; 
And now it's too late, I fear, to repent. 

But I 'le get a youngster, that please me well can ; 
Then a fig for this doting, [this'] feeble Old Man ! 

" I forc'd was to marry him 'cause of his wealth, 
But I 'le have another now and then by stealth ; 
For with him I must never expect any joy ; 
"Which vexes me worse, I shall ne'r have a boy. 
Therefore I 'm resolved to live merry and jolly, 
And take the best course to quit melancholly : 

For what should a young woman do with this Old Man, 
But make him a Cuckold, as soon as she can ? 

" There's young-men enough which will make much of me, 
And I unto them will be gallant and free; 
They '11 court me, and kiss me, and please me full well, 
And I will not want it, the truth I you tell. 
His chests I '11 set open, his money let fly ; 
For I 'le lead a merry life, untill I dye. 

What should a young woman do with this Old Man, 
But make him a Cuckold, as soon as she can ? 

What should a Young Woman do with an Old Man ? 681 

" My Advice is to you, all Maids that are young, 
That you get you Husbands that will not you wrong. 
For sure youth with age will never agree, 
As by this Ditty you plainly may see. 
Therefore, take you warning all b