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EBBA 20202

Magdalene College - Pepys
Ballad XSLT Template
No body loves mee.
To the tune of Philliday.

N Ow all my mony is gone, how should I swagger?
Now may I sit alone with wooden Dagger,
Robert and honest John with mine Host Kester ,
Could drinke a dozen Cans out of a Tester:
If now I wash my throat
Needs must I pawne my coat,
And sing this heavy note,
Nobody loves me.

I [flouris]ht w[ith my friends while my] quoyne lasted,
Now that my sudd[? ends ?]eir love's blasted,
Hee and hee with his pot [don't treat me kindly],
Whilst I could pay my shot [lovin]g me blindly:
Now that I have no C[hink]e,
With the Duckes may I [dr]inke,
All my friends from me shrinke,
Nobody loves me.

My Hostis with a smile would entertaine me,
Now like a varlet vile doth she disdaine me
I had the Parlor before at [my co]mmanding,
Now in the kitchin I take up my standing:
Now all my revell ruffe,
Is turnd to kitchin stuffe,
And I sing, Marry muffe,
Nobody loves me.

When as I had no want, each one would lend me,
Now that my mony is skant, they say, God send yee:
They leave Pearce-penniles, with high disdaining,
And all are pittiles, to my complaining:
Their words are guilded faire,
Their deedes bace copper ware,
Now I am waxen bare,
Nobody loves me.

Faire Mayds would follow me fast for a Fayring,
I was good company, Purse was not sparing:
The finest froe in this towne, I might have kist her,
And perhaps layd her downe, now I must misse her.
Now that my money is lost,
They bid me kisse the post,
Was ever man thus crost,
Nobody loves me.

Top of my kin I thought, would not deny me,
When I do aske them ought, strait they passe by me
Nought but old proverbs on me they venter,
Save nought in summer and starve in winter.
Old Proverbs flye about,
No money pull they out,
Their hands have got the gout,
Nobody loves me.

Faith Ile goe dig for more and if I find it,
Like rich Cobs hand and foot, fast will I bind it.
And hide it in the hay untill it canker,
Then farewell thriftlesse play, and good Ale Tanker:
Ile drinke plaine whig and whay,
Untill my dying day,
Black pots brings all away,
Nobody loves me.

Ile save my money I, to make a purchase
Or else before I dye, for to build Churches:
Like worldlings every hower will I be scraping,
Or like hel stil for more wil I be gaping:
Ere I doe spend my coyne,
Ile let my Carcas pine,
And eate beanes from the suine.
no body loves mee.

If I be once rich againe, I wil be wiser,
And learne of money-men to be a Miser:
Rather then lend a groat to one or other,
Ile helpe to cut his throat, were he my brother.
I will shut up my doore,
Alwaies against the poore:
So Karls doe get their store.
No body loves mee.

FINIS.
Printed at London for E.W.
The Second part of No body loves me.
A new Ballad that praiseth good company, sent unto Peter Ply-pot, and Cutbert
Empty-can. To the tune of Dainty come thou to me.

T Heres no comparison,
of folly to be made,
To the meaner sort of men,
such as live by their trade:
Vaine pleasure so doth lead,
their light-braine wits awry,
That spend and bring themselves,
to open beggery.
Company asketh cost,
Company wasteth gaine:
Let him that meanes to thrive,
Much company refraine.

Such as so wary be,
to spare and not to spend:
Thy wastfull quality,
he shall mock in the end.
For such as have no care,
a penny for to keepe:
Shall never be worth a pound,
but live in danger deepe.
Company asketh cost, etc.

In a torne ragged coat.
commonly shall he goe:
His wife with sorrow fild,
his children full of woe.
Their stomack seldome shall
be fild with flesh or fish:
On his bord shall be seene,
alwayes an empty dish,
Company, etc.

To the Wine Taverne sure,
and victling house likewise:
You seeme to bee good friends,
but your owne enemies:
For all that you doe spend,
no thanke they doe you give:
But in your beggery,
they laugh to see you live.
Company, etc.

Be male content with sin,
for once a day will come,
When you that laugh shall weepe,
this is Christs dreadfull doome:
Before Lent fast and pray,
your death you doe not know,
Thus ere you doe depart,
starve not your soules with woe.
Company, etc.

Though thought will pay no debt.
yet every honest man,

To pay each debt is due,
will doe the best he can:
For when a man for debt
in prison fast doth lie:
Small helpe then shall he have
of merry company.
Company, etc.

The merriest man on earth,
is overcome of death:
Repenting with much paine,
his mirth that was so vaine.
Blest may he be and glad,
that for his sinne is sad:
Great joy shall he obtaine,
in heaven where Christ doth raigne.
Company, etc.

Sith vaine all pleasures are,
then voyd leud company:
Good company there is none,
but in Gods Church alone.
Silver and gold will rust,
and friends will prove unjust:
Let then thy pleasure be,
to sing Christs veritie
C ompany, etc.

The best fellowship I say,
is for to spend the day
Among thy familie,
at thy worke merrilie.
Then happily shalt thou speed,
having coine at thy need:
Full well then maist thou fare.
thy purse shall nere be bare.
Company asketh cost, etc.

The world may justly then
teach all such foolish men,
To provide while they may,
against their sicknes day
And cease their Ale-house songs,
the which their credit wrongs,
Leading more civill lives,
with these true wedded wives.

FINIS.
Imprinted at London for E. W.

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