%ISOlat1; %ISOlat2; %ISOnum; %ISOpub; ]> An Excellent New SONG, Called,/ Rare News for the Female Sex./ Or, Good Luck at last. University of California - Santa Barbara The Early Modern Center Director Patricia Fumerton 1664-1696 Early Modern Center, University of California Santa Barbara Santa Barbara, CA 08/30/2007 21197

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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

3.184 R187989 1 The Scotch Hay-makers The Scotch Haymakers The Scotch Haymakers AS I of late was walking by a Country Bakers door/ I heard some women talking, near 17 or more, Now e'ery Lass that means to pass must all be puncht/ (this Year. [with variations; not final stanza] 1st woodcut caption:'The Punching-Office.', and 2nd and 3rd cuts sharing caption: 'Hey, Maids, Make Haste to the Punching-Office.' Pepys 3.184 Wing E3814[D] 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. 3: 184 An Excellent New SONG, Called,/ Rare News for the Female Sex./ Or, Good Luck at last. An Excellent New SONG, Called, Rare News for the Female Sex. Or, Good Luck at last. An Excellent New Song, Called, Rare News for the Female Sex. Or, Good Luck at Last. 1/2 sheet oblong folio, 202 x 310 cropped right edge, damaged surface, uneven inking horizontal and vertical rules 1664-1696 Printed for P. Brooksby in Pye=Corner. P. Brooksby BBTI

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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 8/30/2007 Santa Barbara, California, United States of America Love Pleasant 8/30/07 Checker Cat Zusky Added to notes section 8/30/07 Checker Cat Zusky Checked transcription and metadata, created XML 8/21/06 Transcriber Pavneet Aulakh Original transcription 8/25/04 Bibliographer Simone Chess Bibliographic SQL Database Record Created
<seg n="1" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">An Excellent New SONG, Called,</hi> </seg> <seg n="2" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">Rare News for the Female Sex.</hi> </seg> <seg n="3" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">Or, Good Luck at last.</hi> </seg> <lb/> <seg n="4" rend="left">To the Tune of, <hi rend="italic">The Scotch <hi rend="bold">H</hi> ay-makers.</hi> </seg>
A S I of late was walking by a Country Bakers door I heard some women talking, near 17 or more, Then one among the rest, cryed out, I do protest, Of all the news I ever heard I think this is the best, I long'd to hear what this good news might be, She scarce could speak for laughing, but at the last quod she, Come maids be of good chear, for joyful news I hear, Now e'ery Lass that means to pass must all be puncht this Year. O this is joyful news, said the Bakers daughter Nan , I lived have fifteen years, yet never any man,
Would be so kind to me, to punch me well, said she, Or from the torment which I bear would ever set me free, For what's a greater plague than a heavy maidenhead And must I still endure it, I'd rather sure be dead, Since this good news I hear, my heart is void of fear, Neither Friend nor Foe, shall say me no, for ile be puncht this year. The farmers daughter Jone stood moulding of her bread, Said she, good neighbour Nancy no more words to be said You complain in 15 year of the torment which you [bear], I'm almost 30, is this not dirty, men should mock & jeer
And ask us when we'll marry, alas how do we know, When they are pleas'd to call us, then we are free to go. And since this news I hear, I'll send to Dick , my dear, And once again Ile tell him plain, I must be puncht this year The Taylors daughter Betty cry'd, it is a burning shame Tho' I am young & pritty my sorrow is the same, My father keeps 5 men, but what if he kept ten, Such silly fools with pointless tools, can never punch me then Unto some lusty farmer with speed I must Repair, And tell to him the cause of my sorrow, grief, and care, Then he with merry cheer, will banish all my fear, And I as well as other Maids shall be well puncht this year. Then in came lusty Sarah , who lived at the Crown, Saying, I'm as brisk and airy as any Lass in town, My friends was at great charge in breeding me so large, To pass away my youthful day I think it dont me urge I'm Punchable 'tis known, my Marygold is blown, Come souldier or come sailor, and take me for your own, Let mother draw the beer, and father in his chair, For ile no longer be their slave if i'm not puncht this year. And then said aged Gillian , tho' I am old and weak, Yet Neighbours I am willing a word or two to speak, My [beaut]y is deca[y]'d by living long a maid, [And] to lead [a]pes in Hell at last indeed I am afraid, Accept of my petition, and let me have a share, I'm forced with submission my sorrow to declare, Then do not flout nor jear, for since this news I hear, My maiden head will strike me dead if i'm not puncht this year. The Bakers daughter Nancy , and all the rest reply'd, What man alive can fancy to make of [y]ou a bride, A nd therefore pray forbear your sorrow to declare, Yet if there's any rusty Punch that we can freely spare, We'll see what we can do, and be a Friend to you. I hope you will said she; so my neighbours all adieu, And thereupon each one departed & went home, With joint consent to be content till punching time does come. But one there was among 'em that they did think too young And as they all went dancing, she likewise had her Song, What tho' you flout at me cause that I am young you see, For all you hunch, yet I'll be punch'd, that currant I may be. For I am thirteen it is well known, And why maint I, good Sirs, then be punch'd as well as Joan . I am resolv'd, I say, that I'll not loose a day, But straight to John my Fathers man, & be punch'd as well as the[y.]
Printed for P. Brooksby in Pye-Corner.