%ISOlat1; %ISOlat2; %ISOnum; %ISOpub; ]> A Fayre Portion for a Fayre Mayd: / OR, / The thriftie Mayd of Worstersheere, / Who liues at London for a Marke a yeare; / This Marke was her old Mothers gift, / Shee teacheth all Mayds how to shift. Parker, Martin University of California - Santa Barbara The Early Modern Center Director Patricia Fumerton 1624-1624 Early Modern Center, University of California Santa Barbara Santa Barbara, CA 04/18/2011 30077

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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

S119368 2 Gramercy penny Gramercy Penny Gramercy Penny the same Tune Gramercy Penny The Same Tune NOw all my Friends are dead and gone, / alas what shall betide me, FRench gownes with sleeues like pudding-bags / I haue at my requesting: Though I haue but a Marke a yeare, / And that my mother gaue me. [with variation] Though I haue but a Marke a yeare, / And that my mother gaue me. [with variation] Roxburghe Ballads Editor None None None None Information in this section of the Source Description refers to the original ballad manuscript. 1: 122 1: 123 A Fayre Portion for a Fayre Mayd: / OR, / The thriftie Mayd of Worstersheere, / Who liues at London for a Marke a yeare; / This Marke was her old Mothers gift, / Shee teacheth all Mayds how to shift. A Fayre Portion for a Fayre Mayd: OR, The thriftie Mayd of Worstersheere, Who lives at London for a Marke a yeare; This Marke was her old Mothers gift, Shee teacheth all Mayds how to shift. A Fair Portion for a Fair Maid: OR, The thrifty Maid of Worcestershire, Who lives at London for a Mark a year; This Mark was her old Mother's gift, She teaches all Maids how to shift. Parker, Martin 1624-1624 F.G.

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 Early Modern Center Ballad Project Keyword Taxonomy advice affliction/ health alcohol animals/ nature Bible/ biblical figures buildings/ architecture catastrophe children class clothing/ appearance country/ nation crime death economics/ commerce entertainments family folklore gender holidays/ seasons infidelity labor/ craft law London love maritime marriage military/ war monstrosity mythology/ Classical news nobility/ court politics/ government procreation punishment race/ ethnicity 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 youth/ age Library of Congress Subject Heading Taxonomy 4/18/2011 Santa Barbara, California, United States of America class country/ nation London Ballads, English 17th century Broadsides, England 17th century 4/18/2011 2:19:39 PM XBallad Doss, MacKenzie Created XML Version of Ballad 4/18/2011 2:19:39 PM Transcription Supervisor McAbee, Kristina, Nebeker, Eric Transcription of ballad manuscript 4/18/2011 2:19:39 PM Double-Key Comparison and Merging Zusky, Catherine Transcription of ballad manuscript 4/18/2011 2:19:39 PM Transcriptionist Two Meyer, Shannon Transcription of ballad manuscript 4/18/2011 2:19:39 PM Transcriptionist One Becker, Charlotte Transcription of ballad manuscript 9/1/2010 Checker Shannon Meyer Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 7/7/2008 Bibliographer Giles Bergel Initial Ballad Catalogue Record Created 4/15/2011 Transcriber Fadel, Meghan Created Ballad XML 4/15/2011 Transcriber Meyer, Shannon Created Ballad XML 4/15/2011 Double-Key Transcription Merger Zusky, Catherine Created Ballad XML 4/15/2011 Transcription Supervisor McAbee, Kristina, Nebeker, Eric Created Ballad XML 4/15/2011 XBallad Doss, MacKenzie Created Ballad XML 10/31/2008 Checker Shannon Meyer Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 1/18/2011 Checker Bethany Wong Edited Ballad Catalogue Record
<seg n="1" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">A Fayre Portion for a Fayre Mayd:</hi></seg> <seg n="2" rend="left"><hi rend="italic"><hi rend="bold">OR,</hi></hi></seg> <seg n="3" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">The thriftie Mayd of <hi rend="bold">Worstersheere,</hi></hi></seg> <seg n="4" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">Who lives at London for a Marke a yeare;</hi></seg> <seg n="5" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">This Marke was her old Mothers gift,</hi></seg> <seg n="6" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">Shee teacheth all Mayds how to shift.</hi></seg> <lb/> <seg n="7" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">To the tune of, <hi rend="bold">Gramercy penny.</hi></hi></seg>
NOw all my Friends are dead and gone, alas what shall betide me, For I poore maid am left alone without a house to hide me: Yet still Ile be of merry cheere, and have kind welcome every where Though I have but a Marke a yeare, And that my mother gave me. I scorne to thinke of poverty, or wanting food or cloathing, Ile be maintayned gallantly, and all my life want nothing; A frolicke minde Ile alwayes beare, my poverty shall not appeare, Though I have but a marke a yeare, And that my mother gave me. Though I am but a silly Wench of countrey education, Yet I am wood by Dutch and French, and almost every nation: Both Spaniards and Italians sweare that with their hearts they love me deare, Yet I have but a Marke a yeare, And that my mother gave me. The Welch the Irish and the Scot, since I came to the Citie, In love to me are wondrous hot, they tell me I am pretty:
Therefore to live I will not feare, for I am sought with many a teare, Yet I have but a Marke a yeare, And that my mother gave me. This London is a gallant place to raise a Lasses fortune; For I that came of simple race, brave Roarers doe importune: I little thought in Wostersheere to find such high preferment here, For I have but a Marke a yeare, and that my mother gave me. One gives to me perfumed Gloves, the best that he can buy me, Live where I will I have the loves of all that doe live nigh me: If any new toyes I will weare. I have them cost they nere so deare, And this is for a marke a yeare, And that my mother gave me. My fashions with the Moone I change, as though I were a Lady; All quaint conceits, both new and strange, Ile have as soone as may be; Your courtly Ladies I can leere, In cloaths but few to me come neare, Yet I have but a Marke a yeare, And that my mother gave me.
<seg n="1" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">The second Part To the same Tune.</hi></seg>
FRench gownes with sleeves like pudding-bags I have at my requesting: Now I forget my countrey rags, and scorne such plaine investing: My old acquaintance I casheere, and of my kin I hate to heare, Though I have but a marke a yeare, And that my mother gave me. My Petty-coats of Scarlet brave, of Velvet, silke and Sattine: Some students oft my love doe crave, that speake both Greeke and Latine, The Souldiers for me domineere, and put the rest into great feare, All this is for a marke a yeare, And that my mother gave me. The Precisian sincerely woes, and doth protest he loves me, He tires me out with Ies and noes, and to impatience moves me: Although an oath he will not sweare, to lye at no time he doth feare, All this is for a Marke a yeare, And that my mother gave me My Coach drawne with foure Flanders mares each day attends my pleasure, The Water-men will leave their fares to waite upon my leasure: Two Lackies labour every where, and at my word run farre and neere, Though I have but a marke a yeare, And that my mother gave me. Ith pleasantst place the Suburbs yeelds, my lodging is prepared: I can walke forth into the fields, where beauties oft are aired;
When Gentlemen doe spy me there, some complements Ime sure to heare, Though I have but a marke a yeare, And that my mother gave me. Now if my friends were living still, I would them all abandon, Though I confesse they lovd me well, yet I so like of London, That farewell Dad and Mammy deare, and all my friends in Worstershire: I live well with a Marke a yeare, Which my old mother gave me. I would my sister Sue at home, knew how I live in fashion, That she might up to London come to learne this occupation: For I live like a Lady here, I weare good cloaths and eate good cheare Yet I have but a Marke a yeare, And that my mother gave me. Now blessed be that happy day that I came to the Citie; And for the Carrier will I pray, before I end my Ditty. You Maidens that this Ditty heare, though meanes be short, yet never feare, For I live with a Marke a yeare, Which my old mother gave me.
FINIS. M.P. London Printed for F.G.