%ISOlat1; %ISOlat2; %ISOnum; %ISOpub; ]> Tis Money that makes a Man: / OR, The Good-Fellows Folly. / Here in this Song Good-Fellow thou mayst find, / How Money makes a Man, if thou’rt not blind? / Therefore return e’re that it be too late, / And don’t on Strumpets spend thy whole estate, / For when all is gone, no better thou wilt be: / But Laught to scorn in all they poverty. Wade, John University of California - Santa Barbara The Early Modern Center Director Patricia Fumerton 1678-1678 Early Modern Center, University of California Santa Barbara Santa Barbara, CA 04/21/2011 30415

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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

R216059 3 a pleasant new Tune UNKNOWN A Pleasant New Tune Bonny black Bess UNKNOWN Bonny Black Bess Digby UNKNOWN Digby OH what a madness 'tis to borrow or lend, / Or for strong Liquor thy Money to spend; Roxburghe Ballads Editor None None None None Information in this section of the Source Description refers to the original ballad manuscript. 3: 80 3: 81 Tis Money that makes a Man: / OR, The Good-Fellows Folly. / Here in this Song Good-Fellow thou mayst find, / How Money makes a Man, if thou’rt not blind? / Therefore return e’re that it be too late, / And don’t on Strumpets spend thy whole estate, / For when all is gone, no better thou wilt be: / But Laught to scorn in all they poverty. Wade, John 1678-1678 F. Coles, T. Vere, J. Wright, J. Clarke, W. Thackery, and T. Passinger

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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 4/21/2011 Santa Barbara, California, United States of America advice alcohol class family vice Ballads, English 17th century Broadsides, England 17th century 4/21/2011 11:51:27 AM XBallad Mellon, Gillian Created XML Version of Ballad 4/21/2011 11:51:27 AM Transcription Supervisor McAbee, Kristina, Nebeker, Eric Transcription of ballad manuscript 4/21/2011 11:51:27 AM Double-Key Comparison and Merging Nebeker, Eric Transcription of ballad manuscript 4/21/2011 11:51:27 AM Transcriptionist Two Hehmeyer, Paxton Transcription of ballad manuscript 4/21/2011 11:51:27 AM Transcriptionist One Becker, Charlotte Transcription of ballad manuscript 7/24/2008 Bibliographer Giles Bergel Initial Ballad Catalogue Record Created 10/29/2010 Checker Grafals Michael Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 10/15/2008 Checker Shannon Meyer Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 10/15/2008 Checker Shannon Meyer Edited Ballad Catalogue Record
<seg n="1" rend="left">Money that makes a Man:</seg> <seg n="2" rend="left"><hi rend="bold"><hi rend="italic">OR,</hi></hi> <hi rend="italic">The Good-Fellows Folly.</hi></seg> <lb/> <seg n="3" rend="left"><hi rend="italic"><hi rend="bold">Here in this Song Good-Fellow thou mayst find,</hi></hi></seg> <seg n="4" rend="left"><hi rend="bold"><hi rend="italic">How Money makes a Man, if thourt not blind?</hi></hi></seg> <seg n="5" rend="left"><hi rend="bold"><hi rend="italic">Therefore return ere that it be too late,</hi></hi></seg> <lb/> <seg n="6" rend="left"><hi rend="bold"><hi rend="italic">And dont on Strumpets spend thy whole estate,</hi></hi></seg> <seg n="7" rend="left"><hi rend="bold"><hi rend="italic">For when all is gone, no better thou wilt be:</hi></hi></seg> <seg n="8" rend="left"><hi rend="bold"><hi rend="italic">But Laught to scorn in all thy poverty.</hi></hi></seg> <lb/> <seg n="9" rend="left"><hi rend="bold"><hi rend="italic">To a pleasant new Tune:</hi> Bonny black Bess: Or, Digby.</hi></seg> <lb/> <seg n="10" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">By <hi rend="bold">J. Wade.</hi></hi></seg>
OH what a madness tis to borrow or lend, Or for strong Liquor thy Money to spend; For when that is wanting thy courage is cool, Thou must stand Cap in hand to every fool: but if thy pockets can jingle, they will take thy word Oh then thou art company for Knight or yet Lord: Then make much of a Penny as near as you can, For if that be wanting thourt counted no man. Then listen a while and ile tell you in brief, The most of my sorrow, my care, and my grief; I had an estate Ile make it appear, Besides all my stock, was worth fifty a year: But so soon as I to drinking then fell, My Land I then Morgaged, my Cattle did sell; No sooner the money I for them had took, But it went to the Ale-house ile swear on a book. Thus in a short time my money did waste, And I found my self not a pin better at last, Whilst other Tradesmen were working full hard, I from an Ale-house could not be debar[]d:
There would I sit tipling day after day, And my Wife she unto me full often would say, Make much of a Penny as near as you can, For if that be wanting thoult be counted no man. But the words that she spoke id regard not a straw But would kick her, & beat her, & keep her in awe; My children at home might eat the bare wall, Whilst I in an Ale-house for strong liquor did call: And my Hostis forsooth must needs sit on my knee though my wife she hath twice more beauty then she Yet that would not please my letcherous mind, Because for my Money my Hostis was kind. But in the conclusion here comes all my care, My back it grew thin, and my pockets grew bare; Then I told my Hostis my pittiful tale, In hopes that my sorrows she would bewail: But she turnd up her nose; and she looked as quoy, You might have been wiser she straight did reply; This was all the comfort that I got from she, That always pretended my friend for to be.
THerefore all young-men that loves the Ale-bench Some counsel ile give them before they go hence; If thou sitst day an night, & drinkst never so fast Yet thoult find thy own home is the best at last: It is but for your money they wait you upon, And when that is wanting your lightly lookt on; If she sees but two-pence you run on the score, She[]l swear by her troth she will trust you no moe Then have a care young-men, be ruled in time, Lest drink overcome thee, in old days you pine: For you see Good-fellows how thread-bare they go And what good-husbandry brings a man to; For some lives most bravely tho means they have small, An some that has hun[d]reds do quickly spend all; Then make much of a Penny as near as you can, For if that be wanting thourt counted no man. Tis money you see makes a Lord, or yet Earl, Tis money you see that sets out a young Girl; Likewise tis money makes the Lawyer to prate, & tis money doth make the man love his wife Kate And tis money breeds love where never was none, Although she be old, yet money makes her young: A Knight or a Begger, whatever they be If they have but money theyr welcome to me. Thus money you see, and do well understand, If a poor man can but get it, he buys house and land But it must not be those that works hard all day, And at night in an Ale house doth throw it away.
Nay, that will not serve, but twice as much more If his word it will pass, he runs on the score; Then all the week after, though then he dont heed He wanteth bread-corn his poor children to feed. Therefore he advised boon Companions all, For you see the worlds so they laugh at a mans fall With speed your old haunts pray begin for to shun Take warning by others the which are undone: Youl say a good-fellow it is a brave name, But many a man doth pay dear for the same: The which hath all spent, now in Goal he doth lye, And none will relieve him in his poverty. But some men have got such a spark in their throat That I would not be him that should quencht for a groat; All the fair words his wife can him give, Yet hel not be ruled though poor he doth live: Hang money he crys, till all ont is gone, As for house and Land I mean to buy none; I must see my Hostis to go neat and fine, Although that my family doth starve and pine. And thus have I told you the conditions of some, That all long of strong liquor will never keep home His stock it decays, although his wife cries, And in the conclusion a begger he dies: but a good husbands means you see doth increase He maintains his houshold in joy and in peace; Then make much of a penny as near as you can, For if that be wanting, thoult be counted no man
FINIS. With Allowance, Ro. LESrange. Printed for F. Coles, T. Vere, [J.] Wright, J. Clarke, W. Thackery, and T. Passinger.