%ISOlat1; %ISOlat2; %ISOnum; %ISOpub; ]> THE / Hunting of the Hare; / WITH / Her Last Will and Testament. / As it was perform'd on BANSTEAD DOWNS. / By CONEY-CATCHERS and their HOUNDS. University of California - Santa Barbara The Early Modern Center Director Patricia Fumerton 1730-1730 Early Modern Center, University of California Santa Barbara Santa Barbara, CA 04/29/2011 31312

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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

T36861 1 a most pleasant and delightful Tune UNKNOWN A Most Pleasant and Delightful Tune OF all delights that Earth doth yield, / Give me a pack of Hounds in field, Roxburghe Ballads Editor None None None None Information in this section of the Source Description refers to the original ballad manuscript. 3: 610 3: 611 THE / Hunting of the Hare; / WITH / Her Last Will and Testament. / As it was perform'd on BANSTEAD DOWNS. / By CONEY-CATCHERS and their HOUNDS. Printer JOHN WHITE 1730-1730

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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 4/29/2011 Santa Barbara, California, United States of America animals/ nature entertainments Ballads, English 17th century Broadsides, England 17th century 4/29/2011 11:48:27 AM XBallad Doss, MacKenzie Created XML Version of Ballad 4/29/2011 11:48:27 AM Transcription Supervisor McAbee, Kristina, Nebeker, Eric Transcription of ballad manuscript 4/29/2011 11:48:27 AM Double-Key Comparison and Merging Meyer, Shannon Transcription of ballad manuscript 4/29/2011 11:48:27 AM Transcriptionist Two Fadel, Meghan Transcription of ballad manuscript 4/29/2011 11:48:27 AM Transcriptionist One Foley, Christopher Transcription of ballad manuscript 11/1/2010 Checker Sue Hong Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 1/29/2009 Bibliographer Meghan Fadel Initial Ballad Catalogue Record Created
<seg n="1" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">THE</hi></seg> <seg n="2" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">Hunting of the Hare;</hi></seg> <seg n="3" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">WITH</hi></seg> <seg n="4" rend="left"><hi rend="italic"><hi rend="bold">Her</hi></hi> Last Will <hi rend="italic"><hi rend="bold">and</hi></hi> Testament.</seg> <lb/> <seg n="5" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">As it was performd on BANSTEAD DOWNS.</hi></seg> <seg n="6" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">By CONEY-CATCHERS and their HOUNDS.</hi></seg> <lb/> <seg n="7" rend="left"><hi rend="italic"><hi rend="bold">To a most pleasant and delightful Tune.</hi></hi></seg>
OF all Delights that Earth doth yield, Give me a Pack of Hounds in Field, Whose Eccho shall throughout the Sky, Make Jove admire our Harmony; And wish that he a Mortal were, To view the Pastime we have here. I will tell you of a rare Scent, Where many a gallant Horse was spent: O[n] Banstead Downs a Hare we found, Which led us all a smoking round; Oer Hedge and Ditch away she goes, Admiring her approaching Foes.
But when she found her Strength to waste, She parlyd with the Hounds at last; Kind Hounds, quoth she, forbear to kill A harmless Hare that neer thought ill: And if your Master Sport do crave, Ill lead a Scent as he would have. Hunts. Away! away! thou art alone, Make Haste, I say, and get thee gone; Well give thee Law for half a Mile, To see if thou canst us beguile: But then expect a thundring Cry, Made by us and our Harmony.
Hare. Now since you set my Life so light, Ill make a black Stone turn to White, And Yorkshire Grey that runs at all, Ill make him wish he was in Stall; And Sorrel, he that seemd to fly, Ill make him supple eer I die. And Barnards Bay, do what you can, Or Barons Bay, that now and then Did interrupt me, now they say, Ill make them neither Jest nor Play: Or constant Robin, though he lie At his Advantage, what care I. Will. Hutton he hath done me Wrong, He struck me as I run along; And with one Bat made me so sore, That I ran reeling to and fro: But if I die, his Master tell, That Fool shall ring my Passing Bell. Hounds. Alas! poor Hare, it is our Nature, To kill thee and no other Creature; For our Master he wants a Bit, And thou will well become the Spit: Hell eat thy Flesh, and pick thy Bone, This is thy Doom, so get thee gone. Hare. Your Master may have better Cheer, For I am dry, and Butters dear; But if he please to make a Friend, Hed better give a Puddings End: For being killd, he Sport will lack, And I must hang oer the Huntsmans Back. Hounds. Alas! poor Hare, we pity thee, If with our Nature twould agree: But all thy doubling Shifts, we fear, Will not prevail, thy Deaths so near: Then make thy Will, it may be that May save thee, or we know not what. Hare. Then I bequeath my Body free, Unto your Masters Courtesy; And if he please my Life to grant, Ill be his Game when Sport is scant: But if I die, each greedy Hound Divides my Entrals on the Ground. Imprimis, I bequeath my Head, To him that a fair Fool doth wed, Who hath before her Maidenhead lost; I would not have the Proverb crost, Which Ive heard among many Quiblets, Set the Hares Head gainst the Goose-giblets.
Item, I do give and bequeath To Men in Debt, (after my Death) My subtle Scent, that so they may Beware of such as would betray Them to a miserable Fate, By bloody Hounds from Compter-gate. Item, I to a Turncoat give, That he may more obscurely live, My swift and sudden Doublings, which Will make him politick and rich: Though at the last, with many Wounds, I wish him killd by his own Hounds. Item, I give it into their Hands, That purchase Dean and Chapter Lands, My wretched Jealousies and Fears, Mixd with the Salt of Orphans Tears; That long Vexations may prosper, To plague them and their Heirs for ever. Before I die, for Life is scant, I would supply their proper Want; And therefore I bequeath to you, The Scrivener, give the Devil his due, That forgeth, swears, and then forswears, To save his Credit, both my Ears. I give to some sequesterd Man, My Skin to make a Jacket on; And I bequeath my Feet to they That shortly mean to run away: When Truth is Speaker, Falshoods dumb, Foxes must fly when Lions come. To Fidlers, for all Trades must live, To serve for Strings, my Guts I give; For Gamesters that do play at Rut, And love the Sport, I give my Skut: But last of all in this sad Dump, To Tower-hill I bequeath my Rump: Hounds. Were ever Hounds so basely crost, Our Masters call us oft so fast, That we the Scent have almost lost, And they themselves must rule the Roast: Therefore, kind Hare, we pardon you. Hare. Thanks, gentle Hounds, and so adieu. And since your Master pardons me, Ill lead you all to Bunbury, Where John Turner hath a large Room, To entertain his Guests that come, To laugh and qu[a]ff in Wine or Beer, A full Carouse to your Career.
Newcastle upon Tyne: Printed and sold by JOHN WHITE.