%ISOlat1; %ISOlat2; %ISOnum; %ISOpub; ]> A NEW and OLD MEDLEY. 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 31116

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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

T39774 DOff with your clogs and cockers, / And don with your hose and shoon, Roxburghe Ballads Editor None None None None Information in this section of the Source Description refers to the original ballad manuscript. 3: 424 A NEW and OLD MEDLEY. A NEW and OLD MEDLEY. A NEW and OLD MEDLEY. ?-?

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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 12:30:57 PM XBallad Mellon, Gillian Created XML Version of Ballad 5/4/2011 12:30:57 PM Transcription Supervisor McAbee, Kristina, Nebeker, Eric Transcription of ballad manuscript 5/4/2011 12:30:57 PM Double-Key Comparison and Merging Becker, Charlotte Transcription of ballad manuscript 5/4/2011 12:30:57 PM Transcriptionist Two Meyer, Shannon Transcription of ballad manuscript 5/4/2011 12:30:57 PM Transcriptionist One Zusky, Catherine Transcription of ballad manuscript 1/18/2009 Bibliographer Meghan Fadel Initial Ballad Catalogue Record Created 1/12/2011 Checker Grafals Michael Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 1/12/2011 Checker Grafals Michael Edited Ballad Catalogue Record
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DOff with your clogs and cockers, And don with your hose and shoon, And away to John at the Cock at Pegham, And we will have a new tune, tol, lol. Says old Sir Simon the King. To young Sir Simon the Squire, Old father Jenkinson kist mother Wilkinson, Round about our coal fire. My father gave me a white horse, My mother gave me a brown c[o]w? My sister shes turnd whore, And what is that to you? As I went over the water, For want of company, I met with a lass a scratching her arse, Will you buy any milk for firmity? There was an old woman had nothing, And there came thieves to rob her, She cryd ot and sa[i]d nothing, And no body came to help her. There were threescore women run naked, And fourscore of them was blind, He run, she run, and I run, And so we run all of a mind. If a man should lie with my wife, Ill kill him if I can, Ill stick my nose in his arse, Zounds! a mans but a man. Somebody come light me a candle, My wife she will die in my arms, I dare not loek at her for laughing, Come somebody knock out her brains. My fathers a Lady of honour, My mothers a justice of peace, My arse is an apple-pie maker, And you may come to the feast. There was an old woman of Wigan She shit in a bottle of h[a]y, She run threescore miles to a meeting, And shit and pist all the way. My landlady roasted a whiting, And all the house stunk of the fish, She run about farting and shiting, The devil set fire to her arse. When I have got money Im merry, When I have got none I am sad, When I am sober Im civil, And when I am drunk I am mad. And hey for a pipe of tobacco, And hey for a bottle of wine, And hey for a pretty girl That will turn her bare belly to mire.
M[a]rjoram grows by thyme, Thyme [i]t grows by sag[e], Clap your belly to mine, And put the bird into the eage. The beginning of St Lege[r]s round, The cow leapt over the moon, The maid she shit in the cream pot, And well have a dumplin soon. Take an old whore and roast her, Baist her w[e]ll with cheese, Lay her out in a frosty night, L[i]sten to one but shell freeze. Take her in the next morning, Lay her in a b[e]d of straw, Then set fire to her arse, Ten to one but shell thaw. Coverlys cows in the corn, No body helps her out, Coverlys wife is beshit, And nobody lends her a cl[o]ut. The good-wife pist in the grass, And there sprung up a rose, The cobler bit his wife by the arse, And she beshit his nose. There was a maid, and she was sick, The doctors told her she must die, She got up to piss and shit, She was as well as you or I. Jo[a]n shall I see your coney? Jo[a]n shall I feel your coney? How the devil, said she, will you feel my coney, And my petticoats hang so low. There was an old woman, and she And me crept up in a tree, And when she came there, her arse it was b[a]re, And her conjuring cap you might see. Did not you know Tom Dod?And did not you know Tom Dod? His breeches was tore behind and before And his two-pence went niddity-nod. There was an old woman, cock-ram her. She livd at the sign of the hammer; She dyd of the col[i]ck, I l[a]ughd at the frolick, To see how the sexton did jam her. Will you buy any beer of me?? Will you buy any beer of me For I have a barrel to broach, A little above my knee. Tis eighteen-pence a quart, And half-a-crown to trust, Sixteen shillings a Gallon, And that makes twenty just.