%ISOlat1; %ISOlat2; %ISOnum; %ISOpub; ]> The Hunting of the Hare. / With her last Will and Testament. / As 'twas perform'd on Bamstead-Downs, / By Conny-Catchers, and their Hounds. University of California - Santa Barbara The Early Modern Center Director Patricia Fumerton 1686-1688 Early Modern Center, University of California Santa Barbara Santa Barbara, CA 04/14/2008 21931

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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

4.270 R178322 1 a pleasant new Tune A Pleasant New Tune OF all delights that Earth doth yield, / Give me a pack of Hounds in field, Pepys 4.270 Wing H3770C; Rollins (2) 1180 (Mch. 1, 1675, ii, 499). 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: 270 The Hunting of the Hare. / With her last Will and Testament. / As 'twas perform'd on Bamstead-Downs, / By Conny-Catchers, and their Hounds. The Hunting of the Hare. With her last Will and Testament. As 'twas perform'd on Bamstead-Downs, By Conny-Catchers, and their Hounds. The Hunting of the Hare. With Her Last Will and Testamant. As It Was Performed on Bamstead Downs, by Cony-catchers, and Their Hounds. 1/2 sheet oblong folio, 205 x 325 cropped left, right and top edges, uneven inking 1686-1688 Printed for W. Thackeray, and T. Passinger. W. Thackeray, T. Passinger Blagden

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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 4/14/2008 Santa Barbara, California, United States of America Various Subjects animals/nature death entertainment law violence 04/14/08 Checker Rachel Mann Metadata updated, xml created 07/10/07 Checker Rachel Mann Ballad checked 09/07/06 Transcriber Simone Chess Original transcription 9/1/2004 Bibliographer Maggie Sloan Bibliographic SQL Database Record Created
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OF all delights that Earth doth yield, Give me a pack of hounds in the field, Whose Eccho shall (throughout the Sky) Make Jove admire our Harmony; And wish that he a Mortal were, To view the pastime we have here. I will tell you of a rare Scent, Where many a gallant Horse was spent, On Bamsted-Downs a Hare we found, Which led us all a smoaking round; O're Hedge and Ditch away she goes, Admiring her approaching foes. But when she found her strength to waste, She Parley'd with the Hounds at last; Kind Hounds (quoth she) forbear to kill A harmless Hare that ne'r thought ill; And if your Master sport do crave, I'll lead a Scent as he would have. Huntsman. Away, away, thou art alone, Make haste, I say, and get thee gone, We'll give thee Law for half a mile, To see if thou canst us beguile; But then expect a thundring cry, Made by us and our Harmony. Hare. Now since you set my life to flight, I'll make black-Sloven turn to white, And Yorkshire-Gary that runs at all, I'll make him wish he were in Stall; And Sorrel (he) that seems to flye, I'll make him supple e're he dye. And Barnard-Boy, do what he can, Or Barons-Bay, that now and than Did interrupt me in the way, I'll make him neither jet nor play, Or constant Robin, though he lye At his advantage, what care I.
Will. Hatton he hath done me wrong, He struck me as I ran along; And with one pat made me so sore, That I ran reeling too and fro: But if I dye, his Master tell, That fool shall ring my Passing-Bell. Hounds. Alas, poor Hare, it is our Nature, To kill thee, and no other Creature; For our Master wants a bit, And thou wilt well become the Spit, He'll eat thy flesh, we'll pick thy bone, This is thy doom, so get thee gone. Hare. Your Master may have better Chear, For I am dry, and Butter's dear; But if he please to make a Friend, He'd better give a Puddings-end, For, I being kill'd, he sport will lack, And I must hang on th' Huntsmans back, Hounds. Alas, poor Hare, we pitty thee, If with our nature 'twould agree, But all thy doubling shift, I fear, Will not prevail, thy Death's so near; Then make thy Will; it may be that May save thee, or I know not what. Hare. Then I bequeath my Body free, Unto your Masters Courtesie; And if he please my Life to grant, I'll be his Game, when sport is scant; But if I dye, each greedy Hound Divides my Intrails on the ground. Imprimis, I bequeath my Head To him that a fair fool doth wed, Who hath before her Maiden-head lost, I would not have the Proverb crost Which I've heard 'mongst many quiblets, set the Harts-head 'ginst the goose-giblets.
Item, I do give and bequeath To men in Debt (after my Death) My subtile Scent, so that they may Beware of such as would betray Them to a miserable fate, By blood-hounds from the Counter-gate Item, I to a Turn-Coat give (That he may more obscurely live) My swift and sudden Doublens, which Will make him politick and rich: Though at the last, with many wounds, I wish him kill'd by his own Hounds. Item, I give into their hands, That purchase Deans and Chapters lands My wretched jealousies and fears, Mix'd with the Salt of Orphans tears, That long vexations may persever To plague them and their heirs for ever Before I dye, for life is scant, I would supply mens proper want, And therefore I bequeath unto The Scrivener (give the Devil his due) That forgeth, swears, and then forswears (To save his credit) both my ears.
I give to some Sequestered Man My Skin, to make a Jacket on; And I bequeath my feet to they That shortly mean to run away, When truth is speaker, falshoods dumb, Foxes must flye, when Lyons come. To Fidlers (for all trades must live) To serve for strings, my Guts I give; For Gamesters that do play at Rut, And love the sport, I give my Skut. But last of all, in this sad dump, To Tower-Hill I bequeath my Rump. Hounds. Was ever Hounds so basely crost, Our Masters calls us home so fast, That we the scent have almost lost, And they themselves must rule the roast? Therefore, kind Hare, we'll pardon you, Thanks, gentle Hounds, and so adieu. Hare. And since your Master hath pardon'd me, I'll lead you all to Banbury; Where John Turner hath a large Room To entertain all Guests that come, To laugh and quaff in Wine and Beer, A full Carrouse to your Galleer.
Printed for W. Thackeray, and T. Passinger.