%ISOlat1; %ISOlat2; %ISOnum; %ISOpub; ]> THE/ Good Fellows Frolick,/ Or, Kent Street Clubb./ Good people all come mind my merry tale./ And you shall hear the vertue of good Ale,/ Whose charming power some mens humors/ (hitts,/ It robs them of their money & their witts:/ For he in time will surely money lack/ that minds his belly better than his back. University of California - Santa Barbara The Early Modern Center Director Patricia Fumerton 1662-1689 Early Modern Center, University of California Santa Barbara Santa Barbara, CA 10/04/2007 21899

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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

4.239 R227194 3 Hey boys up go we Hey, Boys, Up Go We Hey Boys Up Go We Seamans mournful bride Jenny Gin Seaman's Mournful Bride the fair one let me in The Fair One Let Me In The Fair One Let Me In HEre is a crew of jovial Blades/ that lov'd the Nut=brown Ale: with Ale that was so brown. [with variations] Pepys 4.239 Wing G1050 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. 4: 239 THE/ Good Fellows Frolick,/ Or, Kent Street Clubb./ Good people all come mind my merry tale./ And you shall hear the vertue of good Ale,/ Whose charming power some mens humors/ (hitts,/ It robs them of their money & their witts:/ For he in time will surely money lack/ that minds his belly better than his back. THE Good Fellows Frolick, Or, Kent Street Clubb. Good people all come mind my merry tale, And you shall hear the vertue of good Ale, Whose charming power some mens humor hitts, It robs them of their money & their witts: For he in time will surely money lack that minds his belly better than his back. The Good Fellows' Frolic, or, Kent Street Club. Good People All Come Mind My Merry Tale. And You Shall Hear the Virtue of Good Ale, Whose Charming Power Some Men's Humors Hits, It Robs Them of Their Money and Their Wits: For He in Time Will Surely Money Lack, That Minds His Belly Better Than His Back. 1/2 sheet oblong folio, ?210 x 290 cropped top and left edges, uneven inking vertical rule and cast fleurons. 1662-1689 Printed for I. Coniers in Duck-Lane. I. Coniers 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 10/4/2007 Santa Barbara, California, United States of America Various Subjects advice alcohol class vice 10/4/2007 Checker Jessica C. Murphy metadata updated, estc ID entered from bl.uk, transcription rechecked 07/05/07 Checker Rachel Mann Ballad Checked 08/28/06 Transcriber Simone Chess Original Transcription 8/31/2004 Bibliographer Maggie Sloan Bibliographic SQL Database Record Created
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H Ere is a crew of jovial Blades that lov'd the Nut-brown Ale: They in an Alehouse chanc'd to meet, and told a merry Tale: A bonny Seaman was the first, but newly come to Town; And swore that he his guts could borst with Ale that was so brown. See how the jolly Carman he doth the strong Liquor prize, He so long in the Alehouse sate that he drank out his eyes:
And gropeing to get out of door (Sott like) he tumbled down, And there he like a mad-man swore he lov'd the Ale so brown. The nimble Weaver he came in, and swore he'd have a little, To drink good Ale it was no sin, though't made him pawn his Shittle: Quoth he, I am a Gentleman, no lusty Countrey-Clown, But yet I love with all my heart, the Ale that is so brown.
Then next the Black-smith he came in, and said 'twas mighty hot; He sitting down did thus begin, fair maid bring me a pot: Let it be of the very best, that none exceeds in Town; I tell you true and do not jest, I love the Ale so brown. The prick-louse Taylor he came in; whose Tongue did run so nimble, And said he would ingage for drink his Bodkin and his Thimble: For though with long thin Jaws I look, I value not a crown, So I can have my belly full of Ale that is so brown. The lusty Porter passing by with Basket on his back, He said that he was grievous dry, and needs would pawn his Sack: His angry wife he did not fear, he valued not her frown; So he had that he lov'd so dear, I mean the Ale so brown. The next that came was one of them was of the Gentle Craft ; And when that he was wet within most heartily he laugh'd: Crispin was ne'r so boon as he, tho' some Kinn to a Crown; And there he sate most merrily with Ale that was so brown.
But at the last a Barber he a mind had for to taste; He called for a pint of drink, and said he was in haste: The drink so pleas'd, he tarried there till he had spent a crown; 'Twas all the money he could spare for Ale that is so brown. A Broom-man as he passed by his mornings-draught did lack; Because that he no money had he pawn'd his shirt from's back: And said that he without a shirt would cry Brooms up and down; But yet, quoth he, I'le merry be with Ale that is so brown. But when all these together met oh what discourse was there! 'Twould make ones hair to stand an end to hear how they did swear One was a fool and puppy-dogg, the other was a clown; And there they sate and swill'd their gust with Ale that was so brown. The Landlady they did abuse, and call'd her nasty Whore; Quoth she do you your reckoning pay, and get you out of door: Of them she could no money get, which caused her to frown; But loath they were to leave behind the Ale that was so brown.
Printed for J. Coniers in Duck-Lane.