%ISOlat1; %ISOlat2; %ISOnum; %ISOpub; ]> A pleasant new Ditty: intituled, / Though rich golden Booties your luck was to catch, / Your last was the best, 'cause you met with your match. University of California - Santa Barbara The Early Modern Center Director Patricia Fumerton 1634-1634 Early Modern Center, University of California Santa Barbara Santa Barbara, CA 04/25/2011 30342

The University of California makes a claim of copyright only to original contributions made by Early Modern Center participants and other members of the university community. The University of California makes no claim of copyright to the original text. Permission is granted to download, transmit or otherwise reproduce, distribute or display the contributions to this work claimed by The University of California for non-profit educational purposes, provided that this header is included in its entirety. For inquiries about commercial uses, please contact:

Patricia Fumerton Early Modern Center - English Department University of California Santa Barbara, CA 93105 United States of America EMail: pfumer@english.ucsb.edu

S113525 2 I know what I know UNKNOWN I Know What I know the same tune UNKNOWN The Same Tune A Rich wealthy Batchelour thirty and odde, / Had now a new crotchet crept into his pate: THis Widdow seem'd not above fifty at most, / So spruce and so neat was her Carkas bedrest, Roxburghe Ballads Editor None None None None Information in this section of the Source Description refers to the original ballad manuscript. 1: 508 1: 509 A pleasant new Ditty: intituled, / Though rich golden Booties your luck was to catch, / Your last was the best, 'cause you met with your match. A pleasant new Ditty: intituled, Though rich golden Booties your luck was to catch, Your last was the best, 'cause you met with your match. A pleasant new Ditty: entitled, Though rich golden Booties your luck was to catch, Your last was the best, 'cause you met with your match. 1634-1634 J.Wright junior

This document follows the guidelines specified for TEI.

XML Generated Automatically at 4/25/2011 2:58:48 PM Using EMC

XBallad Parsing Engine developed by Carl Stahmer.

TEI Template developed by Gerald Egan and Modified by Carl Stahmer

All apostrophes are encoded as '.

Any dashs occurring in line breaks have been removed;

All dashs are encoded as ‐ and all em dashes as —.

 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 4/25/2011 Santa Barbara, California, United States of America death marriage vulgarities/ crass humor Ballads, English 17th century Broadsides, England 17th century 4/25/2011 2:58:48 PM XBallad Doss, MacKenzie Created XML Version of Ballad 4/25/2011 2:58:48 PM Transcription Supervisor McAbee, Kristina, Nebeker, Eric Transcription of ballad manuscript 4/25/2011 2:58:48 PM Double-Key Comparison and Merging Meyer, Shannon Transcription of ballad manuscript 4/25/2011 2:58:48 PM Transcriptionist Two Hehmeyer, Paxton Transcription of ballad manuscript 4/25/2011 2:58:48 PM Transcriptionist One Becker, Charlotte Transcription of ballad manuscript 7/21/2008 Bibliographer Giles Bergel Initial Ballad Catalogue Record Created 2/19/2011 Checker Bethany Wong Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 11/6/2008 Checker Shannon Meyer Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 11/29/2010 Checker Shannon Meyer Edited Ballad Catalogue Record
<seg n="1" rend="left"><hi rend="bold"><hi rend="italic">A pleasant new Ditty: intituled,</hi></hi></seg> <seg n="2" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">Though rich golden Booties your luck was to catch,</hi></seg> <seg n="3" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">Your last was the best, cause you met with your match.</hi></seg> <lb/> <seg n="4" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">To the tune of, <hi rend="bold">I know what I know.</hi></hi></seg>
A Rich wealthy Batchelour thirty and odde, Had now a new crotchet crept into his pate: A wife he must have, what-soever betide, And well linde with Rubbish to inrich his state. Faire Maidens were offerd him, two, three, and foure, Sufficient Mens Daughters, with money to boote, Yet his greedy mind did still gape after more, For he said twas too little for him to goe tote. His meanes did affoord him three hundred a yeere, And three bonny Lasses had thousands apeece, Yet for it and them hee a pin did not care, Though one of them was to a Gentleman Neece. Shall I for a paltery poore thousand pound, A young wench goe marry with nothing but breed, Consume me in longings, in fashions, and toyes, No, yet it is time, and I now will take heed. There is a brisk Widdow that dwelleth hard by, In money hath ten thousand pounds at the least, Ile spruce my selfe up then incontinently, And to her Ile goe as a shutering Gest. This Batchelour soone did attaine his desire, The day was appointed when they should be wed, His youthfull faire Bride was but threescore and ten, For shee had but a tooth and a halfe in her head.
Some three or foure yeeres did this bonny Lasse live, Then grim goodman death tooke her life cleane away, And griefe for her losse had the man almost sped, But that a new Widdow his journey did stay. His wife being buried, next morning he went, Another spruce Widdow agen for to see, Where mounted on Crutches he straight one espide, Who in state of riches was better than shee. His Mothers smock sure did this Widdower weare, For no sooner wood but he presently sped, A Licence he fetcht, and he marrid her straight, Then she threw downe her Stilts, & she hobbld to bed. Not full ten yeeres older then was his last wife, Was this same dryd mummey that lay by his side, With snorting and grunting she aird so the Bed, That never had Groome such a night by a Bride. But still did her money perfume all againe, And in a moneth after she bed-rid did lye. Seven Winters and Summers she lay at small ease, And then she departed because she must dye. Five hundred a yeere she augmented his state; Ten thousand pound cleare by the other he got, Meane time of another spruce Widdow he heard, Then he praid unto Jove that she might be his lot.
<seg n="1" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">The second part, To the same tune.</hi></seg>
THis Widdow seemd not above fifty at most, So spruce and so neat was her Carkas bedrest, She wanted no meanes for to set her to sale, They likt and were marrid, now marke well the rest. She seemd so compleate and so comely of shape, That he doted on her more than both the rest. She said then sweet husband, be not you dismaid, For the truth must be knowne when you see me undrest. Two rowes of white teeth she tooke out of her mouth, And put em straight into a little round Boxe, A Glasse eye likewise she pulld out of her head, Which made the man fear that his wife had got knocks Her pouldred curld Locks that so faire did appeare, Came off with more ease than a new scalded Pigge, I wonder her Husband could laughing forbeare, When he saw his wife looke like an Ostridge egge. Then strait way down stooped this comely sweet Bride, Unlact, and ungirded, her neat woodden legge, The Bridegroome was like to runne out of his wits, For his eyes ner before did behold such a Hagge. Then for to revive him, unto him she flung, Her Keyes that did lead him to treasure great store, This made him to love her, so both went to bed, Where he did imbrace her, what would you have more. Such luck had this husband to tumble them ore, That ere one moneth ended she changed her life. A rich wealthy miser invited him home, And said, if you please Sir, Ile show you a wife.
He showd him his Daughter a Girle of fifteene, But she would no liking nor favour him show, Her friends made the match, & they marrid with speed, But she ner endurd him, I tell you but so. This young marrid wife to such cunning was grown, That she fell a longing his quine for to waste: French Kickshaws of ten pound a dish she would have, With other deare meats for to fit her fine taste. No Physick, no Doctors, no cost did she spare, On pride and new fangles she set her delight, Her Husband began for to savour of feare, And to wish that she ner had beene seene in his sight. No love nor no liking this young wife ere had, Because she was forct to be wed to her hate, He sickned and dyde, and was laid in his grave, So she did enjoy his three Widdowes estate. A young man that first was this Maidens true love, With all expedition they made their dispatch, For wedding and bedding they both were agreed, And the three widows husband did meet with his match.
FINIS. Printed at London for J. Wright junior, dwelling at the upper end of the Old Baily.