%ISOlat1; %ISOlat2; %ISOnum; %ISOpub; ]> Dunkirk's Lamentation: Written in French by Monsier de Lo[o]n, and after Translated into Irish by Patrick Agraw, for the benefit of the Teagues, and now done into English by a Gentleman who receiv'd it from a Prisoner which they took on the Coast of Flanders, and set to the Tune of The French Dancing-master: or, The Soldiers Departure. de Leon University of California - Santa Barbara The Early Modern Center Director Patricia Fumerton 1692 Early Modern Center, University of California Santa Barbara Santa Barbara, CA 08/27/2007 20932

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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

2.314 R174880 2 The French Dancing-master The French Dancing Master The Soldiers Departure The Doubting Virgin The Soldier's Departure BEgar, what we have long been doing,/ will come to nothing now we find, imprint unclear: London: Printed for P. Brooksby in Pye-corne[r]; date from content; Barclay's Plot; Bombardment of Dunkirk Pepys 2.314 Rollins (1) VII: 185-188; Wing D2612[A] 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. 2: 314 Dunkirk's Lamentation: Written in French by Monsier de Lo[o]n, and after Translated into Irish by Patrick Agraw, for the benefit of the Teagues, and now done into English by a Gentleman who receiv'd it from a Prisoner which they took on the Coast of Flanders, and set to the Tune of The French Dancing-master: or, The Soldiers Departure. Dunkirk's Lamentation: Written in French by Monsier de Lo[o]n, and after Translated into Irish by Patrick Agraw, for the benefit of the Teagues, and now done into English by a Gentleman who receiv'd it from a Prisoner which they took on the Coast of Flanders, and set to the Tune of The French Dancing-master: or, The Soldiers Departure. Dunkirk's Lamentation: Written in French by Monsieur de Leon, and after Translated into Irish by Patrick Agraw, for the Benefit of the Teagues, and Now Done into English by a Gentleman Who Received It from a Prisoner Which They Took on the Coast of Flanders, and Set to the Tune of the French Dancing Master: or, the Soldier's Departure. de Leon 1/2 sheet oblong folio 198x 250 cropped ritht and bottom edges 1692 London: Printed for P. Brooksby in Pye-corner P. Brooksby Weinstein

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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 8/27/2007 Santa Barbara, California, United States of America State & Times country/nation historicalfigures&events military/war politics/government Ballads, English 17th century Broadsides, England 17th century 8/27/2007 Checker Talya Meyers Transcription Checked, Metadata Added, Ballad Encoded 11/7/2006 Transcriber Catherine Zusky Original Transcription 8/27/2004 Bibliographer Maggie Smith Bibliographic SQL Database Record Created
<seg n="1" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">Dunkirk's Lamentation:</hi></seg> <seg n="2" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">Written in <hi rend="bold">French</hi> by <hi rend="bold">Monsier de Lo</hi></hi>[<hi rend="italic"><hi rend="bold">o</hi></hi>]<hi rend="italic"><hi rend="bold">n,</hi></hi> <hi rend="italic">and after Translated into <hi rend="bold">Irish</hi> by <hi rend="bold">Patrick</hi></hi></seg> <seg n="3" rend="left"><hi rend="bold"><hi rend="italic">Agraw</hi>, for the benefit of the <hi rend="bold">Teagues</hi>, and now done into <hi rend="bold">English</hi> by a Gentleman</hi></seg> <seg n="4" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">who receiv'd it from a Prisoner which they took on the Coast of <hi rend="bold">Flanders</hi>, and set to</hi></seg> <seg n="5" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">the Tune of <hi rend="bold">The</hi> French <hi rend="bold">Dancing-master:</hi> or, <hi rend="bold">The Soldiers Departure.</hi></hi></seg>
BEgar, what we have long been doing, will come to nothing now we find, Fortune has prov'd the dismal ruine, of the Intreague which we design'd; Russel he lies now with a Navy, ready to send us Bomb and Ball, Therefore, Begar, we cry, Per cave, our Devil has deceiv'd us all. Here we have made vast Preparation, to lay the Protestants in gore, Who guards the famous British-Nation, yet now at last we can't get o'er, For the whole Plot is quite disjoynted, we shall to dismal Ruine fall; Was ever Men so disappointed? our Devil has deceiv'd us all.
Their Prince was likewise to been Murther'd, just at the time we were to land, This would our great Designs have further'd, for with our potent armed Band, We could have march'd away for London, but now I find we never shall, Well may we cry, We are clearly undone, our Devil has deceiv'd us all. There are some Protestants deducted from their own Land-sosciety, Who by our friends was so instructed, that they'll cut throats as well as we: First they were to observe our Motion, then to that Work they were to fall, But Russel lies now upon the Ocean, our Devil has deceiv'd us all.
'Tis but in vain for us to venter over the roaring Seas at last, For if their Kingdom we should enter, they'll soon our Pride and Glory blast; For the whole Plot is rent assunder, and our dear friends to Ruine fall, Quoth T[e]ague, By Crist, [s]trange and wonder, our Devil has deceiv'd us all. Berwick, it seems, he told your Master, that he might soon obtain that Throne, And need not fear the least Disaster, in making all the Realm his own; Both the Exchequer and the Tower, into his hands he said would fall, But they will ne're be in his power, our Devil has deceiv'd us all. We were incourag'd to go over, with many Promises of Gold, Which we were to receive at Dover, to make us valiant, stout and bold, Every one of us consented to fallow the French General, But we are fatally prevented, our Devil has deceiv'd us all. Sad dreadful fears we now lye under, for if our Troops should go on board, Russel will rend our Ships assunder, no kind of Quarter he'll afford: Our Rising-Sun, you know he fix'd, with other Ships both great and small, In sad confusion we retir'd, and once again our fleet he'll maul. Quoth Teague, By Crist, I'd rather tarry, in the Confines of famous France, Then to go forth and to miscarry, by some unhappy fatal Chance; De English has a Fleet that bears not any thing less then Bomb and Ball, And by my shoul, there's Russel cares not if he consumes and burns all.
London: Printed for P. Brooksby in Pye-corner