%ISOlat1; %ISOlat2; %ISOnum; %ISOpub; ]> TWO Excellent NEW SONGS. / The Rakes of Stony Batter. University of California - Santa Barbara The Early Modern Center Director Patricia Fumerton ?-? Early Modern Center, University of California Santa Barbara Santa Barbara, CA 05/04/2011 31089

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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

T52069 COME all you roving Blades, / That ramble thro' the City, Roxburghe Ballads Editor None None None None Information in this section of the Source Description refers to the original ballad manuscript. 3: 386 TWO Excellent NEW SONGS. / The Rakes of Stony Batter. The Rakes of Stony Batter. The Rakes of Stony Batter. ?-?

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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 5/4/2011 Santa Barbara, California, United States of America alcohol entertainments sex/ sexuality vulgarities/ crass humor Ballads, English 17th century Broadsides, England 17th century 5/4/2011 11:41:57 AM XBallad Mellon, Gillian Created XML Version of Ballad 5/4/2011 11:41:57 AM Transcription Supervisor McAbee, Kristina, Nebeker, Eric Transcription of ballad manuscript 5/4/2011 11:41:57 AM Double-Key Comparison and Merging Becker, Charlotte Transcription of ballad manuscript 5/4/2011 11:41:57 AM Transcriptionist Two Meyer, Shannon Transcription of ballad manuscript 5/4/2011 11:41:57 AM Transcriptionist One Zusky, Catherine Transcription of ballad manuscript 1/18/2009 Bibliographer Meghan Fadel Initial Ballad Catalogue Record Created 1/10/2011 Checker Grafals Michael Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 1/10/2011 Checker Grafals Michael Edited Ballad Catalogue Record
<seg n="1" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">Two Excellent NEW SONGS.</hi></seg> <lb/> <seg n="2" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">The Rakes of Stony Batter.</hi></seg>
COME all you roving Blades, That ramble thro the City, Kissing pretty Maids, Listen to my Ditty, Our Time is coming on, When we will be merry Cato, Poll, and Nan. Will give us Sack and Sherry, Hey for Bobbin Joan, Hey for Stony Batter, Keep your Wife at Home, Or I will have at her. Theres Bridget, Peg, and Nell, With Nancy, Doll, and Susan, To please their Sweethearts well, Sometimes will go a boozing, When their Cash is gone, Theyll hunt for a Cully, And bring their Splinter Home, To their beloved Bully. In Summer Lasses go, To the Fields a maying, Thro the Meadows gay, With their Sweethearts playing; Their smiling winning Ways, Shews for game their willing, Tho Jenny she cries, nay She would not for a Shilling. Graft your Apple Trees, Keep them clean of Water, Keep your Wife at Home, Or else I will be at her. Is your Apples ripe, Are they fit for plucking, Wheres your Daughter Jane, Is she fit for humping. Have you sawn your Wheat, Is it ready put it, Is it almost ripe, Or is it fit for cutting; Is your Corn dry, Is it fit for threshing, You may come and try, Kissings all in Fashion. Go you cunning Knave, No more of Coax and Wheedle, By those Buttons in my Sleeve, Ill prick you with my Needle: What will you still be bold, Mammy call to this Man, For Shame, my Hands dont hold, I vow my Breath is just gone. Come all you Country Blades, And listen to my Ditty, I make no doubt at all, But this will make you merry: Is broke a fair Maids Pawn, The Laws he has offended, All the Tinkers he can find, He cannot get it mended.
Theres Jenny Ling and Diver, Went to the Town a Walking, They went to a bowring Ken, To spend their Time in Courting; Theres Bobbing Joan and Dye, Went to Bed together, All the Sport we had Was kissing one another. Theres Joan a buxom Lass, Met wtih lusty Johnny, They went to take a Glass, He calld her Dear and Honey; She said you silly Clown, Take me round the Middle, Play me Bobbing Joan, Or else Ill break your Fiddle. He gently laid her down, And he pulld out his Scraper, He playd her such a Tune, As made her dance and caper: She said my dearest John, Your such a jolly Rover, My Gown and Cloak Id pawn, That you would neer give over. Come let us take a Roam, Up to Stony Batter, Keep your Wife at Home, Else I will be at her, Hey for Cakes and Ale, And hey for Pretty Misses, That will never fail, For to crown our Wishes. Hey for Bobbing Joan. etc. The Jolly Sailor. YOU jolly young Sailors that loves to delight In Whoring and Drinking both Day and Night; Come listen to me and to you Ill unfold, As merry a Joke as ever was told. Poor Jack, in the Town, as I heard them say, Got very much drunk the other Day; And so for his Pleasure as he thought to crown, He must ramble to pick up a Whore in Town. Poor Jack he was travelling thro Drury Lane, At length to a painted Whore he came; She finding him drunk and willing for Sport, Led him to a House, Boys, in Middlesex Court. This impudent Whore for Brandy did call, But alas! poor Jack he must pay for it all; For he fell fast a sleep in the Arms of his Punk, And he fell on the Ground being dead drunk. She finding him drunk and not like to awake, His Watch and his Money, she from him did take? She strippd him Stark naked, and put him to Bed, And laid his Face close to a Whore that was dead. This Whore that was dead she had had the French Pox, She was twice salivated end died in the Flux; Poor Jacky did lie in a poor lousy Bed, Nothing to embrace but a Whore that was dead. When he awaked and found this Surprize, He jumpd out of Bed, to his Neighbours he cries, My Watch, my Money, and Clothes they are gone, The Whore she is fled, I have no more to put on. With an old lousy Blanket that lay on the Bed, He wrapt it about him to cover his Head: Down into Wapping away he did go, With his Blanket about him, he cast a fine Show.