%ISOlat1; %ISOlat2; %ISOnum; %ISOpub; ]> The Low=Country=Soldier: / OR, / His humble Petition at his Return into England, after his / bold Adventures in bloudy Battels. Parker, Martin University of California - Santa Barbara The Early Modern Center Director Patricia Fumerton 1692 Early Modern Center, University of California Santa Barbara Santa Barbara, CA 08/08/2008 20967

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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

2.348 R188509 1 an excellent new Tune An Excellent New Tune GOod your Worship cast an eye / Upon a Souldier's Misery; date from content; original text faces left, facsimile text faces right; author noted by Rollins as the author from whom this ballad derives Pepys 2.348 Rollins (1) VI:255-259; Wing L3297[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: 348 The Low=Country=Soldier: / OR, / His humble Petition at his Return into England, after his / bold Adventures in bloudy Battels. The Low-Country-Soldier: OR, His humble Petition at his Return into England, after his bold Adventures in bloudy Battels. The Low-Country Soldier: or, His Humble Petition at his Return into England, after His Bold Adventures in Bloody Battles. Parker, Martin 1/2 sheet oblong folio, 195 x 328 cropped left edge, uneven inking 1692 Printed for P. Brooksby, J. Deacon, J. Blare, and J. Back. P. Brooksby, J. Deacon, J. Blare, J. Back 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 8/8/2008 Santa Barbara, California, United States of America State & Times country/nation crime military/war violence 8/8/2008 Checker Jessica C. Murphy metadata checked, rexmled 8/8/2007 Checker Talya Meyers Transcription Checked, Metadata Added/Amended, Ballad Encoded 11/7/2006 Transcriber Eric Hogenson Original Transcription 8/30/2004 Bibliographer Maggie Sloan Bibliographic SQL Database Record Created
<seg n="1" rend="left">The Low-Country-Soldier:</seg> <seg n="2" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">OR,</hi> </seg> <seg n="3" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">His humble Petition at his Return into <hi rend="bold">England</hi> , after his</hi> </seg> <seg n="4" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">bold Adventures in bloudy Battels.</hi> </seg> <lb/> <seg n="5" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">To an excellent new Tune. <hi rend="bold">Licensed according to Order.</hi> </hi></seg>
G Ood your Worship cast an eye Upon a Souldier's Misery; Let not theses lean Cheeks, I pray, Your Worship's Bounty from me stay; But like a n[o]ble friend, Some Silver lend, And Jove shall pay you in the end, And I will pray that Fate, May make you fortunate, In H eaven, or in some Earthly State. To beg I ne'er was bred, kind Sir, Which makes me blush to keep this stir; Nor do I rove from Place to Place: For to make known my wofull Case: For I am none of those
that a roving goes, And in rambling show their drunken blows For all that they have got, Is by banging of the Pot, In wrangling who should pay the shot. Olympick Games I oft have seen, And in brave Battels have I been; The Cannons there aloud did roar, My Proffer high was evermore: For, out of a Bravado, When in a Barricado, By tossing of a hand Granadoe, Death then then was very near, When it took away this ear; But yet, thank God, I'm here, I'm here.
And at the Siege of Buda there, I was blown up into the Air, From whence I tumbl'd down again, And lay awhile among the slain; Yet rather than be beat, I got upon my Feet, And made the Enemy retreat; My self and seven more We fought Elevenscore; The Rogues was ne'er so thrash'd before. I have, at least, a dozen times, Been blown up by these roguish Mines; Twice through the Skull have I been shot, That my Brains do boil like any Pot: Such Dangers have I past, At first and at last, As would make your Worship sore aghast; And there I lay for dead, Till the Enemy was fled, And then they carry'd me home to Bed. At push of Pike I lost this Eye, And at Birgam Siege I broke this Thigh, At Oftend, like a warlike Lad, I laid about as I were mad; But little would you think, That e'er I had been Such a good Soldier of the Queen; But if Sir Francis Vere Were living now and here, H e would tell you how I slash'd them there. The Hollanders my Fury know, For oft with them I've dealt a Blow: Then did I take a warlike Dance, Quite through Spain and into France ; And there I spent a floud Of very noble Bloud, Yet all would do but little good; For now I home am come, With my Rags upon my Bum, And crave of your Worship one small Summe.
And now my Case you understand, Pray lend to me your helping hand; A little thing would pleasure me, To keep in mind your Charity: It is not Bread and Cheese, Nor Barley Lees, Or any such-like Scraps as these; But what I beg of you, Is a Shilling one or Two, Kind Sir, your Purse-string pray undo. EPILOGUE. HAve I spent all my days in bloudy Wars, Thus slash'd, carbonado'd, & cut out in scars? Have I danc'd o'er the Ice, march'd thro' the Dirt, Without either Hat, Hose, Shoe, or Shirt? And must I now beg, bow, troop, trudge and trot, To every Pagan, and poor Peasant Sot? No, by this Hand and Sword not I, That Man's not fit to live who fears to dye: I'll Purse it then, the Highway is my hope; His Heart's not big, that fears a little Rope, ------- Stand, and Deliver, Sir,----------- Here Boy, take my Horse, walk him if thou'rt able, Lead him a turn or two, and put him into th'Stable As for you Mrs. Minks, don't at me Jeer, To night for Supper let me have good Chear; My Pheasants, my Fowls, and choice of other Birds, I'll not be fed with Apple-pye, Cheese, and Curds: As for your Swine's flesh I'll eat none, Unless it be a roast Pig, and then I may pick a Bone.
The rest my Boy shall transport into his Snap- sack, and so we are prepar'd for the next Rendezvous. FINIS.
Printed for P. Brooksby, J. Deacon, J. Blare, and J. Back.