%ISOlat1; %ISOlat2; %ISOnum; %ISOpub; ]> An excellent Medley, / Which you may admire at (without offence) / For every line speakes a contrary sence. Parker, Martin University of California - Santa Barbara The Early Modern Center Director Patricia Fumerton 1623-1623 Early Modern Center, University of California Santa Barbara Santa Barbara, CA 02/29/2012 31769

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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

S94598 1 Tarletons Medley Spanish Pavan, The Tarletons Medley IN Summer time when folks make Hay, / All is not true that people say, THe Surgeon thrives by fencing schooles, / Some for strong liquor pawn their tooles, Information in this section of the Source Description refers to the original ballad manuscript. 1: 86 An excellent Medley, / Which you may admire at (without offence) / For every line speakes a contrary sence. An excellent Medley, Which you may admire at (without offence) For every line speakes a contrary sence. An excellent Medley, Which you may admire at (without offense) For every line speaks a contrary sense. Parker, Martin 1623-1623 F. Grove

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 Early Modern Center Ballad Project Keyword Taxonomy advice affliction/ health alcohol Americas 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 groups royalty rural life servitude sex/ sexuality supernatural/ magic travel trickery/ deceit urban life vice violence virtue vulgar humor youth/ age Library of Congress Subject Heading Taxonomy 2/29/2012 Santa Barbara, California, United States of America advice economics/ commerce rural life urban life vice Ballads, English 17th century Broadsides, England 17th century 2/29/2012 12:43:36 PM XBallad Sander, Morgan Created XML Version of Ballad 2/29/2012 12:43:36 PM Transcription Supervisor Murphy, Jessica Transcription of ballad manuscript 2/29/2012 12:43:36 PM Double-Key Comparison and Merging Jiminez-Justiniano, Jose Transcription of ballad manuscript 2/29/2012 12:43:36 PM Transcriptionist Two Naler, Erin Transcription of ballad manuscript 2/29/2012 12:43:36 PM Transcriptionist One Reese, Ryan Transcription of ballad manuscript 3/8/2011 Checker Hillary Lester Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 1/26/2011 Bibliographer Shannon Meyer Initial Ballad Catalogue Record Created
<seg n="1" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">An excellent Medley,</hi></seg> <lb/> <seg n="2" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">Which you may admire at (without offence)</hi></seg> <seg n="3" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">For every line speakes a contrary sence.</hi></seg> <lb/> <seg n="4" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">The Tune is, <hi rend="bold">Tarletons Medley.</hi></hi></seg>
IN Summer time when folks make Hay, All is not true that people say, The Fools the wisest in the Play, tush take away your hand. The Fidlers boy hath broke his Base, Sirs is it not a pitteous case, Most gallants loath to smell the Mace, of Woodstreet. The City followes courtly pride, Jone sweares she cannot John abide, Dicke weares a Dagger by his side, come tell us whats to pay. The Lawyers thrives by others fall, The weakest alwayes goes to th wall, The Shoomaker commandeth all ats pleasure. The Weaver prayes for Huswives store, A pretty woman was Jane Shore, Kicke the base Rascall out o th doore, peace, peace, you brawling curres. A Couckolds band weares out behind, Tis easie to beguild the blind, All people are not of one mind, hold Carman. Our women cut their haire like men, The Cocks ore-mastred by the Hen. Theres hardly one good friend in ten, turne there on the right hand: But few regard the cryes oth poore, Will spendeth all upon a whore, The Souldier longeth to go ore, brave knocking.
What shall we doe in these sad dayes? Will not the wicked mend their wayes, Some loose their lives in drunken frayes, the pudding burnes to th pot: The Cooper sayes the Tubs be pist, The Cobler preaches what he list, Their knavery now is manifest, hold halter. When the fifth Henry saild to France, Let me alone for a Country dance, Nell doth bewaile her lucklesse chance, fie on false hearted men: Dicke Tarleton was a merry wagge, Harke how that prating Asse doth bragge. John Dorv sold his ambling Nagge, for Kick-shawes. The Saylor counts the Ship his house, Ile say no more but Duns the Mouse, He is no man that scornes a Louse, vaine pride undoes the Land: Hard-hearted men makes Corne so deare, Few French-men love well English Beere I hope ere long good newes to heare, hey Lustick, Now Hides are cheape, the Tanner thrives, Hang those base knaves that beat their wives He needs must go whom the Devill drives, God blesse us from a Gun: The Beades make the lame to runne, Vaunt not before the battels wonne, A Cloud sometimes may hide the sunne, chance medley.
<seg n="1" rend="left"><hi rend="bold"><hi rend="italic">T</hi></hi><hi rend="italic">he second part, To the same Tune.</hi></seg>
THe Surgeon thrives by fencing schooles, Some for strong liquor pawn their tooles, For one wise man theres twenty fooles, oh when shall we be married? In time of youth when I was wilde, Who toucheth pitch shall be defild, Mol is afraid that shes with child, peace Peter. The poore still hopes for better dayes, I doe not love these long delayes, All love and charity decayes, in the dayes of old: Ime very loath to pawn my cloak, Meere poverty doth me provoke, They say a scald head is soon broke, poore trading. Harke, mother harke, theres newes in town, What tell you me of halfe a Crowne, Now the Excise is going downe, thou pratest like an Asse: I scorne the coyne give me the man, Pray pledge the health Sir, I began, I love King Charles say what you can, God save him. The Dutch-men thrive by Sea and Land, Women are Ships and must be mand, Lets bravely to our colours stand, Courage my hearts of Gold: I read in modern Histories, The King of Swedens victories, At Islington theres Pudding Pyes, hot Custards. The Tapster is undon by Chalk, Tush tis in vaine to prate and talke, The Parrat prattles, walke knaves, walke Duke Humphery lies in Paules: The souldiers hath but small regard; Theres weekly newes in Pauls-Church Yard, The poore man cries the world grows hard, cold winter.
Heigh for New-England, hoyse upsaile, The truth is strong and will prevaile, Fill me a cup of nappy Ale, hang care, the Kings a comming, This Egge hath long a hatching bin, When you have done then weell begin, Oh what an age do we live in. hang pinching. From Long-lane cloath, & Turn-stile boots, O fie upon these scabbed Cootes, The cheapest meat is Reddish roots, come, all for a penny: Light my Tobacco quickly here, There lies a pretty woman neere, This Boy will come to naught I feare, proud Coxcombe. The world is full of odious sins, Tis ten to one but this Horse wins, Fools set stools to break wise mens shins, This mans more knave then foole, Jane oft in private meets with Tom, Husband thou art kindly welcome home, Hast any money? lend me some, Ime broken. In ancient times all things were cheap, Tis good to look before you leap, When Corn is ripe, tis time to reap, once waiking by the way. A jealous man the Cuckow loathes, The Gallant complements with Oathes. A wench will make you sell your cloathes, runne Broker. The Courtiers and the Countryman, Lets live as honest as we can, When Arthur first in Court began, his men wore hanging sleeves. In May when Grasse and Flowers green, The strangest sight that ere was seen, God send our graciou Kings and Queen to London.
FINIS. Printed at London for F. Grove.