%ISOlat1; %ISOlat2; %ISOnum; %ISOpub; ]> A Pleasant New Ballad, / On Sir / JOHN BARLEY-CORN University of California - Santa Barbara The Early Modern Center Director Patricia Fumerton 1700-? Early Modern Center, University of California Santa Barbara Santa Barbara, CA 03/07/2012 31897

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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

R181871 1 Shall I ly beyond thee Lie Lulling Beyond Thee Shall I lie beyond thee AS I went through the North Countrie, / I heard a merry meeting, Information in this section of the Source Description refers to the original ballad manuscript. 1: 283 A Pleasant New Ballad, / On Sir / JOHN BARLEY-CORN A Pleasant New Ballad, On Sir JOHN BARLEY-CORN A Pleasant New Ballad, On Sir JOHN BARLEYCORN 1700-?

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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 3/7/2012 Santa Barbara, California, United States of America alcohol class entertainments labor/ craft violence Ballads, English 17th century Broadsides, England 17th century 3/7/2012 10:34:31 AM XBallad Kroeze, Kathryn Created XML Version of Ballad 3/7/2012 10:34:31 AM Transcription Supervisor Becker, Charlotte Transcription of ballad manuscript 3/7/2012 10:34:31 AM Double-Key Comparison and Merging Palmer Browne, Megan Transcription of ballad manuscript 3/7/2012 10:34:31 AM Transcriptionist Two Lee, Jennifer J Transcription of ballad manuscript 3/7/2012 10:34:31 AM Transcriptionist One Persico, Eryn Transcription of ballad manuscript 3/8/2011 Checker Victoria Hernandez Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 2/3/2011 Bibliographer Charlotte Becker Initial Ballad Catalogue Record Created 2/23/2011 Checker Grafals Michael Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 2/22/2011 Checker Grafals Michael Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 2/22/2011 Checker Grafals Michael Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 2/22/2011 Checker Grafals Michael Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 2/22/2011 Checker Grafals Michael Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 2/22/2011 Checker Grafals Michael Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 2/22/2011 Checker Grafals Michael Edited Ballad Catalogue Record
<seg n="1" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">A Pleasant New Ballad,</hi></seg> <seg n="2" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">On Sir</hi></seg> <seg n="3" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">JOHN BARLEY-CORN</hi></seg> <lb/> <seg n="4" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">The Tune is: <hi rend="bold">Shall I ly beyond thee.</hi></hi></seg>
AS I went through the North Countrie, I heard a merry meeting, A pleasant Toy and full of joy, two Noble-men were greeting; And as they walked forth to sport, upon a Summers Day, They met another Noble-man, with whom they had a fray. His Name was Sir John Barley-Corn, he dwelt down in a Vale, And had a kinsman dwelt with him, they calld him Tom Good Ale, Another named Sir Richard Beer, was ready at that time: And likewise came a busie Peer, called Sir William White-Wine. Some of them fought in a black jack, some of them in a Can, But yet the chiefest in a black Pot, fought like a Nobleman. Sir Barley-Corn fought in a bowl, who wan the Victory, Which made them all to curse and swear, that Barley-Corn must die. Some said kill him, some said him drown some wisht to hang him high. For those that followed Barley-Corn, they said would Beggers die. Then with a Plow they Plowd him up, and thus they did devise To bury him within the Earth, and swore he should not rise. With Harrows strong they came to him and burst Clods on his head, A joyful Banquet then was made, when Barley-Corn was dead. He rested still upon the Earth, till rain from Sky did fall. Then he grew up in branches green, which sore amazed them all. Increasing then till midsummer, he made them all afraid: For then he did spring up on high, and had a goodly beard. When riping at St. Jamess time, his countenance waxd wan. Yet now full grown in part of strength, and thus became a man. Wherefore with hooks and sickles keen, unto the fields they hyd, They cut his Legs off by the knees, and Limb from Limb divide, Then bloodily they cut him down, from place where he did stand. And like a Thief for treacherie, they bound him in a band. So then they took him up again, according to his kind, And placd him up in several stacks, to wither with the wind. Then with a Pitchfork sharp and lang, they rent him to the heart, And Traitor like for Treason vile, they bound him in a Cart. And tending him with Weapons strong, unto the Town they hie, Whereas they movd him a mow, and so they let him ly.
They left him groaning by the walls, till all his bones were sore, And having took him up again, they cast him on the floor. And hired two with hollin Clubs, and beat at him at once Who thwackt so hard on Barley-Corn, the flesh fell from his bones. Then after took him up again, to please some womens minds, Yea, dusted, fandd, and sifted him, till he was almost blind. Full fast they knit him in a Sack, which grievd him very sore, And soundly steept him in a Fat, for three days space and m[o]re. From whence again they took him out, and laid him forth to dry, Then cast him on the Chamber floor, and swore that he should dy. They rubd and stird him up and down and oft did toil and ture, The Mault-Man likewise woos his death his body should be sure. They puld and hald him up in spight, and threw him on a Kill, Yea, dryd him ore a fire hote, the more to work their will. Then to the Mill they forcd him straight, whereas they bruisd his bones, The Miller swore to murder him, betwixt a pair of stones, The last time that they took him up, they servd him worse than that, For with hot scalding liquor store, they washt him in a Fat. But not content with this well wot, they wrought him so much harm, With cruel threats they promise next to beat him into barm, And lying thus in danger deep, for fear that he should quarrel, They heavd him straight out of the Fat, and turnd into the barrel. They goard and broachd it with a Tap, so this his death began, And drew out every drop of blood, while any drop would run. Some brought in sacks upon their backs, some brought in bowls and pail, Yea, every man some weapon had, poor Barley-Corn to Kill. When Sir John Good-Ale heard of this, he came with meikle might, And took by strength their tongues away their Legs and eke their Sight. Sir John at last in this respect, so paid them all their hyre, That some lay bleeding by the walls, some tumbling in the Myre Some lay groaning by the walls, some fell ith street down right, The wisest of them scarcely knew, what he had done ore night, All you good wives that brews good Ale, God keep you from all teen. But if you put too much water in, the Crows pick out your Eyne.
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