%ISOlat1; %ISOlat2; %ISOnum; %ISOpub; ]> A Fooles Bolt is soone shot./ Good Friends beware, I'me like to hit yee,/ What ere you be heer's that will fit yee;/ Which way soeuer that you goe,/ At you I ayme my Bolt and rowe. University of California - Santa Barbara The Early Modern Center Director Patricia Fumerton 1630 Early Modern Center, University of California Santa Barbara Santa Barbara, CA 08/07/2007 20079

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Patricia Fumerton Early Modern Center - English Department University of California Santa Barbara, CA 93105 United States of America EMail: pfumer@english.ucsb.edu

1.178-179 S114658 1 O no, no, no, not yet I'll Never Love Thee More O No, No, No, Not Yet STand wide my Masters, and take heed,/ for feare the Foole doth hit yee, for now I make a shot. {with variations; not final stanza} THe Miser that gets wealth great store,/ and wretchedly doth liue, Pepys 1.178-179 STC 10654 [E. Allde?] for J. G[rismond, c.1630]; Rollins (2) 902 (June 20, 1629, IV, 216, Fran. Coles & partners). Woodblock 3: 1st 1/2 sheet folio, under title and tune, above column 2: A small cut shows a man standing in a wide stance. He gestures with his right hand, toward his right side (in this case, toward the large cut to his right). He has short hair, light colored pantaloons, a black jerkin, and holds his brimmed hat at his hip in his left hand.: 35 x 25 Woodblock 4: 2nd 1/2 sheet folio, under title, above column 1: A small cut depicts a portly bearded man in a decorated jerkin and short slops. He wears a hat with a brim, and may carry an object in his right hand. In his left hand, he holds a walking stick or staff. : 36 x 25 Woodblock 5: 2nd 1/2 sheet folio, under title, above column 1: A small cut shows a woman in an embroidered black dress with wide hips and a white apron. Her hair is pulled back, and she has a hat or bonnet with many points. Her right hand is extended, and her left hand is at her waist. In her left hand, she holds a feather fan.: 38 x 29 Woodblock 1: 1st 1/2 sheet folio, under title and tune, above column 1: A small cut shows a woman in a plain black dress with a white apron, a ruff, and a black brimmed hat with a plume. With her left hand, she points away from herself (in this case, toward the large cut to her left). She has her right hand on her hip, and holds something (a glove?) in that hand.: 38 x 24 Woodblock 2: 1st 1/2 sheet folio, centered under title and tune, above column 1 and 2: A man (presumably the fool?)kneels on his left knee and aims a crossbow at the reader, directly forward. On his head, he wears a hat shaped like a chicken. He has a realistic face, and closes his left eye for better aim with his bow. He wears a short buttoned tunic with decorative balls at the elbow. Several arrows are tucked into his bely and under his left arm. He wears hose and balck shoes.: 101 x 96 Woodblock 6: 2nd 1/2 sheet folio, under title, above column 1: A small cut shows a bearded man walking toward the rigth of the cut with his hand extended in front of him. he wears a short cloak, pantaloons, a ruff and a hat. His second hand rests on a sword at his waist.: 38 x 22 Pepys Library The Pepys ballads : facsimile volume Editor W.G. Day D.S. Brewer Cambridge [England] 1987 Information in this section of the Source Description refers to the original ballad manuscript. 1: 178 1: 179 A Fooles Bolt is soone shot./ Good Friends beware, I'me like to hit yee,/ What ere you be heer's that will fit yee;/ Which way soeuer that you goe,/ At you I ayme my Bolt and rowe. A Fooles Bolt is soone shot. Good Friends beware, I'me like to hit yee, What ere you be heer's that will fit yee; Which way soever that you goe, At you I ayme my Bolt and Bowe. A Fool's Bolt Is Soon Shot. Good Friends Beware, I'm like to Hit Ye, Whatever You Be here Is that Will Fit Ye; Which Way Soever that You Go, at You I Aim My Bolt and Bow. The Second Part. The Second Part. The Second Part. 1/2 sheet folio, originally left part, 272 x 157 1/2 sheet folio, originally right part, 277 x 157 uneven inking creased, damaged surface, uneven inking cast fleurons borders: 122 x 16, 76 x 14, and cast fleurons Printer 1630 Printed at London for I. G. I. G. Weinstein: STC, licensing info Registered to F. Coules and partners. Watt includes Grismond as a partner, but I haven't personally seen his name included on any imprint lists.

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 Taxonomy used by Pepys to Organize Ballads in Albums A Small Promiscuous Supplement Devotion & Morality Drinking & Good Fellowship History - True & Fabulous Humour, Frollicks &c Love Pleasant Love Pleasant and Unfortunate Love Unfortunate Marriage Sea State & Times Tragedy Various Subjects Early Modern Center Ballad Project Keyword Taxonomy advice affliction/health alcohol animals/nature appearance Bible/biblical figures buildings/architecture catastrophe children class clothing/fashion country/nation crime death economics/trade entertainment family/procreation folklore gender historical figures & events holidays/seasons infidelity law London love maritime marriage military/war monstrosity mythology/Classical world news nobility/court politics/government punishment religious concepts religious figures religious types & sects royalty rural life servitude sex/sexuality supernatural/magic The New World travel trickery/deceit urban life vice violence virtue vulgarities/crass humor Library of Congress Subject Heading Taxonomy 8/7/2007 Santa Barbara, California, United States of America State & Times advice vice virtue Ballads, English 17th century Broadsides, England 17th century 8/7/2007 Checker Gordon Batchelor 6/3/2005 Transcriber Apri Medina 7/17/2004 Bibliographer Simone Chess Bibliographic SQL Database Record Created
<seg n="1" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">A Fooles Bolt is soone shot.</hi></seg> <seg n="2" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">Good Friends beware, I'me like to hit yee,</hi></seg> <seg n="3" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">What ere you be heer's that will fit yee;</hi></seg> <seg n="4" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">Which way soever that you goe,</hi></seg> <seg n="5" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">At you I ayme my Bolt and Bowe.</hi></seg> <seg n="6" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">To the Tune of, Oh no no no not yet.</hi></seg>
STand wide my Masters, and take heed, for feare the Foole doth hit yee, If that you thinke you shall be shot, Id'e wish you hence to get yee; My Bowe you see stands ready bent, to give each one their lot, Then have amongst you with my Bolts, for now I make a shot. He that doth take delight in Lawe, and ever to be brangling, Would he like to the Bells were hang'd, that loves still to be jangling; His Lawyers purse he fills with Coine, himselfe hath nothing got, And proves a begger at the last, at him I make a shot. Who all the weeke doth worke full hard, and moyle both night and day, Will in a trice spend all his coine, and foole his meanes away, In drinking and in rioting, at pipe and at the pot, Whose braines are like an adled egge, at him I make a shot.
The Prodigall that is left rich, that wastes his state away, In wantones and surfeting, in gaming and in play, And spends his meanes on Whores and Queanes, doth make himselfe a sot, May in a Spittle chance to dye, at him I make a shot. He that is apt to come in bands for every common friend, May shake a begger by the hand, and pay the debt it'h end, By selling Goods and Lands away, or in a Prison rot, Where none will pitty his poore case, at him I make a shot. The Man that wedds for greedy wealth, he goes a fishing faire, But often times he gets a Frog, or very little share; And he that is both young and free, and marries an old Trot, When he might live at libertie, at him I make a shot.
<seg n="1" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">The Second Part. To the same Tune.</hi></seg>
THe Miser that gets wealth great store, and wretchedly doth live, In's life is like to starve himselfe, at's death he all doth give Unto some Prodigall, or Foole, that spends all he hath got, With griping usury and paine, at him I make a shot. He that doth early rise each morne, and worketh hard all day, When he comes home can not come in, his Wife is gone to play; And lets her to drinke and spend all the moneys which he got, Shall weare my Coxcombe and my Bell, and at him heers a shot. An Old-man for to dote in age upon a Wench thats young, Who hath a nimble wit and eye, with them a pleasing tongue, Acteons plume I greatly feare will fall unto his lot, That stoutely in his crest he'le beare, at him I make a shot. A Widow that is richly left, that will be Ladifide, And to some Gull or Roaring-boy she must be made a Bride, His Cloathes at Broakers he hath hir'd himselfe not worth a groat, That basts her hide and spends her meanes at her I make a shot. A Mayden that is faire, and rich, and young, yet is so proud, That favour unto honest men by no meanes can be low'd; And thus she spends her chiefest prime, refusing her good lot, In youth doth scorne in age is scornd, at her I make a shot. But she that wanton is and fond, that fast and loose will play, When that her reconings are cast up, must for it soundly pay, And may the Father chance to seeke of that which she hath got, Besides her standing in a sheete, at her I make a shot.
Who spends his time in youth away, to be a Serving-man, Dotd seldome grow for to be rich, doe he the best he can; And then when age doth come, God knows this Man hath nothing got, But is turnd out amongst the dogges, at him I make a shot. He that doth sell his Lands away, an Office for to buy, May keepe a quarter for a time, but will a begger dye; For he hath sold his Lambes good man, and younger Sheepe hath got, Although he thinke himselfe so wise, at him I make a shot. He that will goe unto the Sea, and may live well on shore, Although he venture life and goods, may hap to come home poore, Or by the Foe be made a Slave, with all that he hath got, Whose Limbes in peeces are all torne, at him I make a shot. Those that their Parents doe reject, and makes of them a scorne, Who wishes then with griefe and woe they never had been borne; For portion they may Twelve-pence have beside a heavy lot, For disobedience ordaind, at them I make a shot. The Parents which their Child brings up to have their owne free will, The wise and antient Salomon doth say they them will spill: And when correction comes too late, they wish they'd nere been got: But for their folly which is past, at them I make a shot. They that continue still in sinne, and thinke they nere shall dye, Defereing off repentance still, and lives in jollitie, Death quickly comes and ceases them, and then it is their lot In hells hot flame for to remaine, at them I make a shot. And so farewell my Masters all, God send's a merry meeting; Pray be not angry with the Foole that thus to you sends greeting: And if that any have escap'd, and saies I did not hit them, It is because my Bolts are spent, but Ile have more to fit them.
FINIS. T.F.
Printed at London for I.G.