%ISOlat1; %ISOlat2; %ISOnum; %ISOpub; ]> The merry Hoastess: / OR, / A pretty new Ditty, compos'd by an Hoastess that lives in the City: / To wrong such an Hoastess it were a great pitty, / By reason she caused this pretty new Ditty. Robins, Thomas University of California - Santa Barbara The Early Modern Center Director Patricia Fumerton 1654-1654 Early Modern Center, University of California Santa Barbara Santa Barbara, CA 04/25/2011 30356

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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

R215949 18 UNKNOWN UNKNOWN UNKNOWN UNKNOWN UNKNOWN UNKNOWN UNKNOWN UNKNOWN UNKNOWN UNKNOWN UNKNOWN UNKNOWN UNKNOWN UNKNOWN UNKNOWN UNKNOWN Buff Coat has no Fellow Buff Coat Buff Coat Has No Fellow the same Tune Buff Coat The Same Tune COme all that loves good company, / and hearken to my Ditty; THe bonny Scot will lay a plot, / to get a handsom tutch My Ale was tunn'd when I was young, / and a little above my knee. My Ale was tunn'd when I was young, / and a little above my knee. Roxburghe Ballads Editor None None None None Information in this section of the Source Description refers to the original ballad manuscript. 1: 536 1: 537 The merry Hoastess: / OR, / A pretty new Ditty, compos'd by an Hoastess that lives in the City: / To wrong such an Hoastess it were a great pitty, / By reason she caused this pretty new Ditty. The merry Hoastess: OR, A pretty new Ditty, compos'd by an Hoastess that lives in the City: To wrong such an Hoastess it were a great pitty, By reason she caused this pretty new Ditty. The merry Hostess: OR, A pretty new Ditty, composed by an Hostess that lives in the City: To wrong such an Hostess it were a great pity, By reason she caused this pretty new Ditty. Robins, Thomas 1654-1654 John Andrews

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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 4/25/2011 Santa Barbara, California, United States of America alcohol country/ nation London Ballads, English 17th century Broadsides, England 17th century 4/25/2011 3:41:30 PM XBallad Doss, MacKenzie Created XML Version of Ballad 4/25/2011 3:41:30 PM Transcription Supervisor McAbee, Kristina, Nebeker, Eric Transcription of ballad manuscript 4/25/2011 3:41:30 PM Double-Key Comparison and Merging Meyer, Shannon Transcription of ballad manuscript 4/25/2011 3:41:30 PM Transcriptionist Two Nebeker, Eric Transcription of ballad manuscript 4/25/2011 3:41:30 PM Transcriptionist One Becker, Charlotte Transcription of ballad manuscript 7/22/2008 Bibliographer Giles Bergel Initial Ballad Catalogue Record Created 2/19/2011 Checker Bethany Wong Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 11/7/2008 Checker Shannon Meyer Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 11/29/2010 Checker Shannon Meyer Edited Ballad Catalogue Record
<seg n="1" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">The merry Hoastess:</hi></seg> <seg n="2" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">OR,</hi></seg> <lb/> <seg n="3" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">A pretty new Ditty, composd by an Hoastess that lives in the City:</hi></seg> <seg n="4" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">To wrong such an Hoastess it were a great pitty,</hi></seg> <seg n="5" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">By reason she caused this pretty new Ditty.</hi></seg> <lb/> <seg n="6" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">To the Tune of, <hi rend="bold">Buff Coat has no Fellow.</hi></hi></seg>
COme all that loves good company, and hearken to my Ditty; Tis of a lovely Hoastess fine, that lives in London City: Which sells good Ale, nappy and stale, and alwayes thus sings she, My Ale was tunnd when I was young, and a little above my knee. Her Ale is lively strong and stout, if you please but to taste; It is well brewd you need not fear, but I pray you make no waste: It is lovely brown, the best in Town, and alwayes thus sings she, My Ale was tunnd when I was young, and a little above my knee. The gayest Lady with her Fan, doth love such nappy Ale; Both City Maids, and Countrey Girles that carries the milking Pail: Will take a touch, and not think much, to sing so merrily, My Ale was tunnd when I was young, and a little above my knee.
Both Lord and Esquire hath a desire unto it night and day; For a quart or two, be it old or new, and for it they will pay: With Pipe in hand they may her command to sing most merrily, My Ale was tunnd when I was young, and a little above my knee. Your welcome all brave Gentlemen, if you please to come in; To take a cup I do intend, and a health for to begin: To all the merry joval Blades, that will sing for company, My Ale was tunnd when I was young, and a little above my knee. Heres a Health to all brave English men that loves this cup of Ale; Let every man fill up his Can, and see that none do fail, Tis very good to nourish the blood, and make you sing with me, My Ale was tunnd when I was young, and a little above my knee.
<seg n="1" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">The second Part, to the same Tune.</hi></seg>
THe bonny Scot will lay a plot, to get a handsom tutch Of this my Ale so good and stale; so will the cunning Dutch: They will take a part with all their heart, to sing this tune with me, My Ale was tunnd when I was young, and a little above my knee. It will make the Irish cry a hone, If they but take their fill; And put them all quite out of tune, let them use their chiefest skill: So strong and stout it will hold out in any company: For my Ale was tunnd when I was young, and a little above my knee. The Welch-man on Saint Davids Day will cry, Cots Plutter a nail, Hur will hur ferry quite away, from off that nappy Ale: It makes hur foes with hur red Nose, hur seldom can agree. But my Ale was tunnd when I was young, and a little above my knee. The Spaniard stout will have about, cause he hath store of gold; Till at the last hs is laid fast, my Ale doth him so hold: His Ponyard strong is laid along, yet he is good company. For my Ale was tunnd when I was young, and a little above my knee.
Theres never a Tradesman in England, that can my Ale deny; The Weaver, Taylor, and Glover, delights it for to buy: Small money they do take away, if that they drink with me. For my Ale was tunnd when I was young, and a little above my knee. There is Smug the honest Blacksmith, he seldom can pass by; Because a spark lies in his throat, which makes him very dry: But my old Ale tells him his tale, so finely we agree. For my Ale was tunnd when I was young, and a little above my knee. The Brewer, Baker, and Butcher, as well as all the rest, Both night and day will watch where they may finde Ale of the best: And the Gentle Craft will come full oft to drink a cup with me. For my Ale was tunnd when I was young, and a little above my knee. So to conclude, good Fellows all, I bid you all adieu; If that you love a cup of Ale, take rather old then new: For if you come where I do dwell, and chance to drink with me: My Ale was tunnd when I was young, and a little above my knee.
FINIS. T.R. London, Printed for John Andrews, at the White Lion near Pye-Corner.