%ISOlat1; %ISOlat2; %ISOnum; %ISOpub; ]> The King of Good-Fellows: / OR, / The Merry Toper's Advice. / Being a Pleasant New Song much in Request. / This is the Man whose Company once had, / Will make Men Cheearful, though of late but sad: / He hates Curmudgeons, but does Court the Blade, / That will spend free, for Drinking is a Trade; / By it long Nights flye swift, and seem but short, / No Pastime's like unto true Tippling sport. University of California - Santa Barbara The Early Modern Center Director Patricia Fumerton 1680-1680 Early Modern Center, University of California Santa Barbara Santa Barbara, CA 04/19/2011 31335

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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

R229066 2 a Pleasant New Tune UNKNOWN A Pleasant New Tune the same Tune UNKNOWN The Same Tune I Am the King and Prince of Drunkards, / Hectoring roaring tipling Boys: All the night I do tipple good Wine, / which resists both heat and cold: Roxburghe Ballads Editor None None None None Information in this section of the Source Description refers to the original ballad manuscript. 4: 52 The King of Good-Fellows: / OR, / The Merry Toper's Advice. / Being a Pleasant New Song much in Request. / This is the Man whose Company once had, / Will make Men Cheearful, though of late but sad: / He hates Curmudgeons, but does Court the Blade, / That will spend free, for Drinking is a Trade; / By it long Nights flye swift, and seem but short, / No Pastime's like unto true Tippling sport. The King of Good-Fellows: OR, The Merry Toper's Advice. Being a Pleasant New Song much in Request. This is the Man whose Company once had, Will make Men Cheearful, though of late but sad: He hates Curmudgeons, but does Court the Blade, That will spend free, for Drinking is a Trade; By it long Nights flye swift, and seem but short, No Pastime's like unto true Tippling sport. The King of Good Fellows: OR, The Merry Topper's Advice. Being a Pleasant New Song much in Request. This is the Man whose Company once had, Will make Men Cheerful, though of late but sad: He hates Curmudgeons, but does Court the Blade, That will spend free, for Drinking is a Trade; By it long Nights fly swift, and seem but short, No Pastime's like unto true Tippling sport. 1680-1680 J. Jordan

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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 4/19/2011 Santa Barbara, California, United States of America alcohol Ballads, English 17th century Broadsides, England 17th century 4/19/2011 11:01:10 AM XBallad Meyer, Shannon Created XML Version of Ballad 4/19/2011 11:01:10 AM Transcription Supervisor McAbee, Kristina, Nebeker, Eric Transcription of ballad manuscript 4/19/2011 11:01:10 AM Double-Key Comparison and Merging Meyer, Shannon Transcription of ballad manuscript 4/19/2011 11:01:10 AM Transcriptionist Two Nebeker, Eric Transcription of ballad manuscript 4/19/2011 11:01:10 AM Transcriptionist One Becker, Charlotte Transcription of ballad manuscript 9/1/2010 Checker Shannon Meyer Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 7/27/2010 Checker Shannon Meyer Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 4/16/2011 Checker Shannon Meyer Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 4/16/2011 Checker Shannon Meyer Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 4/14/2011 Transcriber Becker, Charlotte Created Ballad XML 4/14/2011 Transcriber Nebeker, Eric Created Ballad XML 4/14/2011 Double-Key Transcription Merger Meyer, Shannon Created Ballad XML 4/14/2011 Transcription Supervisor McAbee, Kristina, Nebeker, Eric Created Ballad XML 4/14/2011 XBallad Meyer, Shannon Created Ballad XML 1/30/2009 Bibliographer Eric Nebeker Initial Ballad Catalogue Record Created 1/30/2009 Checker Eric Nebeker Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 1/30/2009 Checker Eric Nebeker Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 1/30/2009 Checker Eric Nebeker Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 1/30/2009 Checker Eric Nebeker Edited Ballad Catalogue Record
<seg n="1" rend="left">King of Good-Fellows:</seg> <seg n="2" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">OR,</hi></seg> <seg n="3" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">The Merry Topers Advice.</hi></seg> <seg n="4" rend="left">Being a Pleasant New Song much in Request.</seg> <lb/> <seg n="5" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">This is the Man whose Company once had,</hi></seg> <seg n="6" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">Will make Men Cheearful, though of late but sad:</hi></seg> <seg n="7" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">He hates Curmudgeons, but does Court the Blade,</hi></seg> <seg n="8" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">That will spend free, for Drinking is a Trade;</hi></seg> <seg n="9" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">By it long Nights flye swift, and seem but short,</hi></seg> <seg n="10" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">No Pastimes like unto true Tippling sport.</hi></seg> <lb/> <seg n="11" rend="left"><hi rend="italic"><hi rend="bold">To a Pleasant New Tune.</hi></hi></seg>
I Am the King and Prince of Drunkards, Hectoring roaring tipling Boys: I always use to drink whole Bumpers, and the Ale-house fill with noise: In the Tavern I do rant and roar, I drink more Wine then any can: Therefore am I both far and nigh, calld a Hogshead, not a Man. I rant and roar, and I call for more, I practice drinking night and day: I always boast that I drink most, yet never a Farthing do I pay.
But if any falls asleep, to their pockets I do creep, and out their Purses I do draw, The Reckoning I do pay, & so go my way, and I leave them a sighing, Ye, ho. Some says Drinking does disguise Men, and their wits turns out of doors: Fools they are, & I am sure no wise Men, for they lye like Sons of Whores. For when a mans in drink, he speaks what he thinks hes not drunk, but frank & free, It is not with them, so theyr a cup too low for they are disguizd with modesty.
<seg n="1" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">The Second part, to the same Tune.</hi></seg>
All the night I do tipple good Wine, which resists both heat and cold: And pay devotion at Bacchus his shrine, whilst the Hogshead it does hold. For the meanest slave, by drinking grows brave, & all cares they are layd aside: The Prisoner is free, if drunk he be, and no longer does grief abide. Twas I that lately drank a Piss-pot filld with Sack unto the brim, And to my Friend, and he drank his Pot, so merrily went about the Whim: two gaspins at a draught I pourd down my throat but hang such trifling things as these, I laid me all along, put my nose unto the Bung, and drank out a Hogs-head full with ease: I heard of a man that drank whole Tankards, called himself the Prince of Sots, Dam such idle Puny Drunkards, melt their Tankards, break their Pots: A friend and I did joyn for a Seller full of Wine, and we drank the Vintner out of door,
We drank it all up, in a morning at a sup, and greedily stared about for more: With that my friend he made a motion, said, lets not part with such dry Lips, And straight we went unto the Ocean, where we met with a fleet of Ships; They were laden all with Wine, and they swore twas super-fine, And they said they had ten thousand Tun: we drank it all at Sea, not a drop suckt the Key And the Vintners swore they were all undone. For a Man that can stoutly tipple, need not fear the World goes well: It will make caper, though a Cripple, and bid sorrows all farewel. Then tother round is still the sound, come fill us more wine boys with speed: We ner ought shall lack, whilst we hand sack tis that which our spirits does feed. Come bring in twenty Gallons more, let us drink till the world it runs round, And twenty to that wel set oth score, we can but be put in the Pound. but catch me if they can, for I will be gone, and find out fresh quarters next night: Ile drink the Town dry, and what care I, Ile dot if it be but for spight. Come wash the Glass, fill a bumper, heres a health to each honest Lad: And a confusion to each Rumper, lets drink while tis to be had: whilst the Stars they look blew, & day again we view for theres nothing thats sober found: The sun sucks the Ocean, the stars in their motion all do carrouse it round.
FINIS. Printed for J. Jordan, at the Sign of the Angel, in Guiltspur-street, without Newgate.