%ISOlat1; %ISOlat2; %ISOnum; %ISOpub; ]> The King & Northern-man, / Shewing how a poor Northumberland-Man (Tennant to the King) being wronged by a / Lawyer (his Neighbour) went to the King himself to make known his grievance. Parker, Martin University of California - Santa Barbara The Early Modern Center Director Patricia Fumerton 1682-1682 Early Modern Center, University of California Santa Barbara Santa Barbara, CA 04/18/2011 30110

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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

R214271 1 Slut UNKNOWN Slut TO drive away the weary day, / a book I chanced to take in hand, Roxburghe Ballads Editor None None None None Information in this section of the Source Description refers to the original ballad manuscript. 1: 174 1: 175 The King & Northern-man, / Shewing how a poor Northumberland-Man (Tennant to the King) being wronged by a / Lawyer (his Neighbour) went to the King himself to make known his grievance. The King & Northern-man, Shewing how a poor Northumberland-Man (Tennant to the King) being wronged by a Lawyer (his Neighbour), went to the King himself to make known his grievance The King & Northern man, Showing how a poor Northumberland man (Tenant to the King) being wronged by a Lawyer (his Neighbor), went to the King himself to make known his grievance Parker, Martin Printer Alex. Milbourn 1682-1682 Alex. Milbourn

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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 law nobility/ court royalty trickery/ deceit Ballads, English 17th century Broadsides, England 17th century 4/18/2011 3:22:31 PM XBallad Doss, MacKenzie Created XML Version of Ballad 4/18/2011 3:22:31 PM Transcription Supervisor McAbee, Kristina, Nebeker, Eric Transcription of ballad manuscript 4/18/2011 3:22:31 PM Double-Key Comparison and Merging Zusky, Catherine Transcription of ballad manuscript 4/18/2011 3:22:31 PM Transcriptionist Two Meyer, Shannon Transcription of ballad manuscript 4/18/2011 3:22:31 PM Transcriptionist One Becker, Charlotte Transcription of ballad manuscript 9/13/2010 Checker Shannon Meyer Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 7/8/2008 Bibliographer Giles Bergel Initial Ballad Catalogue Record Created 4/15/2011 Transcriber Becker, Charlotte 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 10/23/2008 Checker Meghan Fadel Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 1/20/2011 Checker Bethany Wong Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 1/20/2011 Checker Bethany Wong Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 1/20/2011 Checker Bethany Wong Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 1/20/2011 Checker Bethany Wong Edited Ballad Catalogue Record
<seg n="1" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">The King & Northern-man,</hi></seg> <seg n="2" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">Shewing how a poor <hi rend="bold">Northumberland-Man</hi> (Tennant to the King) being wronged by a</hi></seg> <seg n="3" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">Lawyer (his Neighbour), went to the King himself to make known his grievance.</hi></seg> <lb/> <seg n="4" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">To the Tune of, Slut.</hi></seg>
TO drive away the weary day, a book I chanced to take in hand, And therein I read assuredly, a story as you shall understand: Perusing many a History over, amongst the Leaves I chancd to view: The Books name and Title is this, The second Lesson, too good to be true. There read I of a Northumberland-man, that was born & brought up in the Kings land, He paid twenty shillings Rent a year, to the King, as I do understand: By him there dwelt a Lawyer false, that with his Farm was not content, But over the poor man still hangd his nose, because he did gather the Kings Rent. He told him he his Lease had forfeit, and that he must there no longer abide: The King by such Lownes hath mickle wrong done and for you the world is broad and wide. The poor man prayd him for to cease, and content himself if he would be willing, And pick no vantage in my Lease, and I shall give thee forty shilling: Its neither forty Shilling, nor forty pound, ise warrant thee, so can agree thee and me, Unless thou yield me thy farm so round, and stand unto my courtesie. The Poor man said he might not do so, his wife and his Barns will make ill wark, If thou with my Farm wilt let me go, thou seemst a gude fellow ise give thee 5 mark. The Lawyer would not be so content, but further ith matter he means to smell: The neighbors bad the poor man provide his rent, and make a submission to the King himsel. He gat a humble staff on his back, a jerkin I wot that was of grey:
With a good blew Bonnet he thought it no lack to the King he is ganging as fast as he may: He had not gone a mile out oth town, but one of his Neighbors he did espy: How far ist toth King, for thither im boun, as fast as ever I can hye. I am sorry for you neighbour he said, for your simplicity I make moan, Ire warrant you, you may ask for the King, when nine or ten days journey you have gone. Had I wist the King had wond so far, ise never a sought him a mile out oth town, Hes either had sought me, or wed nere a come near, at home I had rather ha spent a Crown. But when he came to the City of London, of every man he for the King did call: They told him, that him he need not to fear, for the King he lies now at the White-Hall. And with spying of Farlies in the City, because he had never been there beforn, He lee so long a bed the next day, the Court was removd to Winsor that morn. You ha lay too long, then said his Host, you ha lay too long by a great while? The King is now to Winsor gone, hes further gone by twenty mile. I think I was curst, then said the poor man, if I had been wise I might ha consider, Belike the King of me has gotten some weet, he had ner gone away, had not I come hither He fled not for you, then said his Host, but hye you to Winsor as fast as you may: Besure it will requite your cost, for look what is past the King will pay? But when he came to Winsor Castle, with his humble staff on his back, Although the Gates wide open stood, he laid on them till he made um crack.
Why stay, pray friend, art mad quod the Porter, what makes thee keep this stir to day? Why I am a Tennant of the Kings, who have a Message to him to say: The King hath men enough, said the Porter, your Message well that they can say: Why, thers ner a Knave the King doth keep, shalt ken my secret mind to day. I were told ere I came from home, ere I got hither it would be dear bought, Let me in, ise give thee a single Penny, I see, thou wilt ha small, ere thou do it for nought. Gramercy, said the Porter then, thy reward is so great I cannot say nay: Yonders a Noble Man within the Court, Ile first hear what he doth say. When the Porter came to the Noble man, he said he would shew him pretty sport, Theres sike a Clown come to the gate, as came not these seven years to the Court. He calls all Knaves the King doth keep, he raps at the Gates, and makes great din; Hes passing liberal of reward, hed give a good single Penny to be let in. Let him in, then said the Noble man, come in Fellow, the Porter gan say; If thou come within thy self, he said, thy staff behind the Gate must stay. And this Cuckolds Cur must lig behind, what a Deel what a Cur hast got with thee? The King will take him up for his own sell, Ise warrant when as he doth him see. Beshrew thy Limbs, then said the poor man, then maist thou count me a fool or worse, I wot not what Bankrupt lies by the King, for want of Money he may pick my purse. Let him in with his Staff and Dog said the Lord he gave a nod withs head, & a beck withs knee If you be Sir King, then said the poor man, as I can very well think ye be: For as I was told ere I came from home, your goodliest man that ere I saw beforn, With so many jingles jangles about one neck, as is about yours, I never saw none. I am not the King, said the Noble man, fellow, though I have a proud Coat: If you be not the King, help me to the speech of him. you seem a gude fellow, ise give you a Groat. Gramercy said the Noble man, thy reward is so great, I cannot say nay; Ile go know the Kings pleasure, if I can, till I come again besure you stay. Heres sike a staying, then said the poor man, [be]like the kings better than any in our country I might a gane to the farthest Nuke ith house, neither Lad nor Town to trouble me. When the Noble man came to the King, he said he could shew his Grace good sport, Heres such a Clown come to the gate, as came not this seven years to the Court. He calls all knaves your Highness keeps, and more than that, he terms them worse, [Hel] not come in without his Staff and Dog for fear some Bankrupt will pick his purse. Let him in with his staff, then said our King, that of [his] sport [we] may see some: Wel see how [hel] handle every thing, as soon as o[ur] match of Bowls is done.
The Noble man led him through many a room, and through many a Galleray gay, What a deel doth the King with so many houses that he gets them not filld with Corn & Hay? At last they spied the King in a Garden, yet from his game he did not start, The day was so hot, he cast off his Doublet, he had nothing from the wast but his shirt. Lo yonders the King, said the Noble-man, behold follow, lo where he goes: Believt hes some unthrift, says the poor man, that has lost his money, and pawnd his cloths. But when he came before the King, the Noble-man did his courtesie: The poor man followed after him, And gave a nod withs head, and a beck withs knee. And if you be Sir King then said the poor man, as I can hardly think ye be: Here is a gude fellow that brought me hither, is liker to be the king than ye. I am the king his Grace now said, fellow let me thy case understand: If you be Sir king ime a Tenant of yours, that was born & up brought in your own land. There dwells a Lawyer hard by me. and a fault in my Lease he saith he hath found, And all was for selling five poor Ashes, to build an house upon your own ground. Hast thou a Lease here, said our king? or canst thou she to me the Deed? He gave it into the kings own hand, and said, Sir, here tis if that you can read. Lets see thy Lease, then said the king: then from his Black Box he pulld it out, He gave it into the kings own hand, with four or five knots tyd fast in a clout. West never unlose these knots, said the king, he gave it to one that behind him did stay. It is a proud Horse then said the poor man, will not carrys own Provinder along the high way Pay me forty shillings as ise pay you, I will not think much to unloose a knot; I would I were so occupied every day, id unloose a score on um for a groat. When the king had gotten these Letters read, and found the truth wak very so, I warrent thee, thou hast not forfeit thy Lease, if thou hadst feld five Ashes mo. I, every one can warrant me, but all your warrants are not worth a flee, For he that troubles me and will not let me go, neither cares for warrant of you nor me. Thoust have an Injunction, said our king from troubling of thee he will ceas Hel either shew thee good cause why, or else hel let thee live in peace. Whats that Injunction, said the poor man? good Sir to me I pray you say, Why, it is a Letter ile cause to be written, but art thou so simple as thou showst to day? Why ift be a Letter ime never the better, keep it to thy self and trouble not me, I could ha had a letter written cheaper at home, and nere a come out of my own country. Thoust have an Atachment, said our King, charge all that thou seest take thy part, Till he pay thee an hundred pound, [be] sure thou never let him start:
If any seem against thee to stand, besure thou come hither straightway, I marry, is that all ise get for my labour, then I may come trotting every day, Thou art hard of belief, then said our King, to please him with Letters he was willing, I see you have taken great pains in writing, with all my heart ise give a Shilling Ile have none of thy shilling said our King, man with thy money God give theee win, He threw it into the Kings bosome, the money lay cold next to his skin. Beshrew thy heart, then said our King, thou art an Earl something too bold: Dost thou not see I am hot with Bowling, and the money next to my skin lies cold. I never wist that before said the poor man, before sike time as I came hither. If the Lawers in our Country thought twas cold, they would not heap up so much together, The King called up his Treasurer, and bad him fetch him twenty Pound; If ever thy Errand lye here away, ile bear thy Charges up and down. When the poor man saw the Gold down tendred for to receive it he was willing: If I had thought the King had had so mickle gold, beshrew my heart ide ha kept my shilling, The poor man got home the next Sunday, the Lawer soon did him espy; O Sir, you have been a stranger long, I think from me you have kept you by. It was for you indeed, said the poor man, the matter to the King, as I have tell: I did as my neighbour put into my head, and made a submission to him my sell. What a deel didst thou with the King quod the lawyer could not neighbors and friends agree thee & me, The deel a neighbor or friend that I had, that would ha been such a days man as he: He has gin me a Letter, but I know not what they calt but if the kings words be true to me When you have read and perused it over, I hope youl leave and let me be. He has gin me another, but I know not what too but I charge you all to hold him fast, Till he pay me an hundred pound, I will go tye him fast tull a Post. Marry God forbid, the Lawyer said, then the Tachment was red before them there, Thou must needs something credit me, till I go home and fetch some mear. Credit, nay thats it the king forbad, he bade it I got thee I should thee stay, The Lawyer paid him an hundred pound in ready money ere he went away. Would every Lawyer were served thus, from troubling poor men they would cease: Theyd either shew him good cause why, or else theyd let him live in peace. And thus I end my merry song, which shews the plain mens simpleness, And the kings great mercy in Righting wrongs and the Lawyers fraud and wickedness.
Printed by and for Alex. Milbourn, at the Stationers-Arms in Green-Arbor-Court, in the Little Old-Baily.