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EBBA 20094

Magdalene College - Pepys
Ballad XSLT Template
Newes good and new
To the tune of Twenty pound a yeere.

John N Ow welcome neighbour Rowland ,
From London welcome home,
What newes is there I pray you?
From thence I heare you come.
Row. The best that ere you heard,
Youle say't when I you shew.
John. I hardly can beleeve it,
Tis too good to be true.

Row. The Lawyer in his pleading
to gaine gives no [res]pect,
Though Cli[e]nts have no mony,
he doth not them neglect:
But truly pleades their cause,
of these there be not few.
John. I never will beleeve it,
Tis too good to be true.

In Lords there's no ambition,
in Ladies theres no pride,
The Clergie loves no monie
no woman's wanton-eyde,
Each one that wicked liv'd,
doth strive to live anew.
John. I never will bele[i]ve it,
Tis too good to be true.

Row I there did know an Usurer,
ith hundred tooke threescore:
But he is now repented,
and gave all to the poore,
And daily fasts and prayes,
and hates that damned Crew,
John. I never will beleeve it,
Tis too good to be true.

Row. Your Tradesmen hate short measures
false lights, and falser waights:
Nor will they in their bargaines,
use oathes as cunning baites,
To fetch the simple ore,
theres no such cunning Jew.
John . I never will beleeve it,
Tis too good to be true.

Row. No Vintner there doth mingle,
his wine with water pure:
And then doth sweare tis neatest:
in London's no such Brewer.
Of that they all are cleare,
they can, but will not brew.
John. I never will beleeve it.
Tis too good to be true.

Row. No Ostler there will rob you,
of either oates or hay:
No Tapster nickes the pot there,
but fils it as he may:
No hoast will there be drunke,
no hostesse proves untrue.
John. I never will beleeve it,
Tis too good to be true.

Row. Your Brokers there are honest
and are not ranckt with knaves,
They lend their coine for conscience,
which makes them ore their graves
To have their good deeds writ,
whose number is but few.
John. I never will beleeve it,
Tis too good to be true.

Too good to be true
The Second Part.

Row. A Sergeant late turn'd honest,
and not abus'd his place:
A Baily became pitifull,
and wail'[d] his prisoners case:
And both to goodnesse fram'd
their former course anew.
John. I never will beleeve this,
Tis too good to be true.

Row. The Landlords there are pitiful
and racke not poore mens rents,
The tenant there is dutifull,
and payes what he indents.
The rich the poore doe love:
of these there are but few.
John. I never will beleeve this,
Tis too good to be true.

Row. Jailors are tender hearted,
that doe their prisons keepe:
To thinke on poore mens miseries,
their yron hearts doe weepe:
The poore men they relieve,
and give the rich their due.
John. I never will beleeve this,
tis too good to be true.

Ro. You there shall see no drunkards,
in walking through the street:
The stockes stand ever emptie,
all's sober that you meet.
He's hated that's but seene,
amidst a drunken crew.
John. I never will beleeve this,
Tis too good to be true.

Row. Picthatch, and garden Allies,
Turnebull, and Mutton lane,
Of truth are now turn'd honest,
and hate unlawfull gaine.
Bridewell did them convert,
and clad their backes in blew.
John. I never will beleeve this,
tis too good to be true.

Row. Fleetstreet ha's nere a cheater,
White-fryers ne're a whore:
Tiburne is now delivered,
and beareth theeves no more.
And S[mith]field now is rid,
of those horse-cheating crew.
John. I never will beleeve this,
tis too good to be true.

Row. Ludgate ha's nere a bankrupt
that can, but will not pay:
The Counter nere a Prodigall,
that turnes the night to day,
By vile disordered life,
which age doth after rue.
John. I never will beleeve this,
tis too good to be true.

This newes doth much amaze me,
the which you have me told,
And truely to beleeve it,
I dare not be too bold.
I would [not] true it were,
as it to me is new.
But I will not beleeve it,
tis too good to be true.


Printed for J.Trundle.

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