%ISOlat1; %ISOlat2; %ISOnum; %ISOpub; ]> The BURGOMASTER. University of California - Santa Barbara The Early Modern Center English Broadside Ballad Archive (EBBA) Director Patricia Fumerton Associate Director Carl G Stahmer ?-? Early Modern Center, University of California Santa Barbara Santa Barbara, CA 06/21/2014 32850

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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

HERE you may see the turns of faith, / From woe to joy, from grief to great, Information in this section of the Source Description refers to the original ballad manuscript. 1: 506 The BURGOMASTER. The BURGOMASTER. The BURGOMASTER. Printer J. TURNER ?-?

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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 Featured 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 6/21/2014 Santa Barbara, California, United States of America class clothing/ appearance economics/ commerce marriage military/ war servitude trickery/ deceit Ballads, English 17th century Broadsides, England 17th century 6/21/2014 12:07:01 PM XBallad Jaworski, Cheryl Created XML Version of Ballad 6/21/2014 12:07:01 PM Transcription Supervisor Meyer, Shannon Transcription of ballad manuscript 6/21/2014 12:07:01 PM Double-Key Comparison and Merging Meyer, Shannon Transcription of ballad manuscript 6/21/2014 12:07:01 PM Transcriptionist Two Yuen, Pui Transcription of ballad manuscript 6/21/2014 12:07:01 PM Transcriptionist One Becker, Charlotte Transcription of ballad manuscript 5/22/2013 Checker Shannon Meyer Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 2/6/2013 Checker William Hildalgo Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 11/19/2012 Checker Shannon Meyer Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 10/14/2012 Bibliographer Shannon Meyer Initial Ballad Catalogue Record Created
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HERE you may see the turns of faith, From woe to joy, from grief to great, A mark of fortune's special love, Who did a soldier's grief remove. One who in former days of old, Had trudg'd thro' weather, hot and cold, Till he was poor and pennyless, You'd have laugh'd to seen his dress. His shoes with trudging up and down, No soles they had, his hat no crown, His coat no sleeves, his shirt the same, But by his side a sword of fame. Without a scabbard, good or bad, Nor was there any to be had, His coat and breeches would not come, In depth to cover half his bum. Now being weary of his trade, One day he to his captain said, Pray now give me a full discharge, That I my fortune may enlarge, I am persuaded I shall be, A burgomaster, sir, said he, Of Venice, if you'll let me go, His captain laughing, answer'd no. With you, said he, I will not part, Then thought the soldier, he'd desert His colours, let what will befall, And soon he went for good and all. Now as he march'd with all his might, A coachman and his worthy knight, Upon the road by chance he found, And ask'd to borrow full five pounds. At this the knight laugh'd out amain. And said when will you pay't again, He answer'd sir, you shall be paid, When I am burgomaster made.
Of Venice, which will be my lot, The noble knight away he got, And laugh'd to see him in that trim, But yet the coachman lent it him. This being done, away he went, To Venice, where some time he spent, To view the palaces, rich and gay, And to the burgo's took his way. Who kept a house to entertain, All kinds of guests, he call'd amain, For wine and other liquors free, Tho' in a wretched garb was he. THIS soldier was a jovial blade, Whilst in pleasure there he stay'd, Behold, a squire living near, Courted the burgo's daughter dear. Now as he kept her company, One day the soldier sitting by, Feigning to sleep, he overheard, Their private talk as it appear'd. Part of their private talk was this, My dear sweet love, the charming bliss, Let me enjoy this self same night, The damsel told him that he might. If that he'd to her chamber creep, When all the house was fast asleep, About the hour of twelve o'clock, She would the door for him unlock. The soldier heard the whole design, Thought he the pleasure shall be mine, And thereupon he went before, To the young lady's chamber door. He knock'd, and strait she let him in, The pleasant game did soon begin, And 'ere an hour's space was past, Her love, the squire came at last.
He knock'd, who's that? the lady cry'd The soldier lying by her side. Said, 'tis that ragged fellow sure, Who seem'd as if he slept secure, He heard us, and is come to have, The pleasure that thy love did crave, But 'tis in vain, for I will rise, And with the piss-pot blind his eyes. According, in a woeful case, He dash'd it in the squires face, Away he goes and nothing said, Supposing that it was the maid. She laughed at the pleasant jest, And gave him then (amongst the rest, A diamond ring, with kisses sweet, But did not understand the cheat. Then he arose and went his way, Behold, on the succeeding day, Upon his hand the ring she spy'd, Pray where had you the same, she cry'd. He answer'd her, and thus he said, Pray be not in the least dismay'd, For you was loving, kind, and free, Last night, and gave the same to me. Oh, bless me, did I lie with you, Since it is so I pray be true, And do not let the same be told, So you shall never want for gold. He vow'd he would conceal the same, Soon after that the squire came, Saying, why was you so unkind, The piss-pot made me almost blind. She answer'd with a hearty curse, 'Twas good enough, if it were worse, Because you thought to ruin me, My honour and my chastity. IN part the third we must return, Unto a mighty great concern, Concerning of some thousand pounds, Which the poor soldier's fortune crowns, Behold her wealthy father he, Did send four mighty ships to sea, Laden with glorious merchandize, Rich silks and other wares likewise. They had been gone full seven years, No tale or tidings could be heard, Of them, at length he gave them o'er, And never thought to see them more, At length there was a letter brought, The ships was safe, with riches fraught, Near to the borders of the land, The news came to his daughter's hand. Then having view'd & read the same, She to the ragged soldier came, Saying, he true, my dear, to me, Thou shalt a Burgomaster be.
My father thinks his ships are lost, Which are now on the Venice coast, Then e'er he doth the tidings hear, Go buy his right in them, my dear. And when thou hast the bargain bou't Of four large ships so richly fraught, Be what it will, of me you shall, Have money for to pay for all. Then on her father he did wait, And struck a bargain with him straight, For the four ships four hundred pounds, Whether the same were lost or found. No sooner were the writings made, And that small sum of money paid, But strait he heard the ships were come, Their burthen was a mighty sum. Then did the burgomaster fret, That he with such a loss had met, But since it could no better be, He with the soldier did agree, To take his daughter for his bride, With all my heart then he reply'd, Then out of hand they married were. The soldier and the lady fair. No sooner were they man and wife, But strait her father left this life, And when he in the grave was laid, The son was burgomaster made. He that had travell'd many a mile, Was now by fortune's special smile, Made mighty, powerful, and great, And knew no end of his estate. NOW mind the latter part, I pray, I make no question but you'll say, Still as you read this story out, These things was strangely brought about While he was burgomaster there, His former captain did repair, Unto his house, and chanc'd to dine, With other brave commanders fine. The burgomaster seeing that, He straight put on his crownless hat, With all his other ragged cloaths, And so into the room he goes, The captain then begun to swear, Lieutenant! pray see who is there, My ragged burgomaster, who In private from his colours flew. Then from the presence of his guest, He stept away---himself he drest, In sumptuous robes he drest amain, And then retir'd to them again. The captain said right worthy sir, Here is a foolish ragged cur, Endow'd with neither wit nor sense, I'll hang him e're I go from hence.
He from his colours did desert, Says the burgomaster be not so tart, In presence of these gentlemen, Write his discharge here's guineas ten. He wrote the same and took the gold, The burgomaster said behold, I am the man, and now alas, What once I said is come to pass. The captain then began to fume, And told his gallants in the room, If that he'd known as much before, It should have cost him ten times more. At length within a month or less, The knight which once he did address, To lend him five pounds on the road, Come there to take up his abode. The burgomaster as before, Put on his robes both rent and tore, That so the knight might know him strait As he did on his worship wait. He to his coachman turn'd him round, And said here's one owes you five pound When do you think the same to get, He is no burgomaster yet. The coachman said as I do live, I freely do the same forgive, Because I to my sorrow see, He still remains in poverty. For some short time he went away, And dress'd himself in rich array, In feathers fine, and rich perfume, And so return'd into the room. Having discours'd with them a while, He told the coachman with a smile, As he'd help'd him in time of need, He would return it now indeed. He gave him five thousand pounds, Likewise a match for him he found, A sweet young lady fair and clear, Daughter of a renowned peer. The knight was vexed to the heart, That he must with his servant part, But let him grieve, it must be so, Whether his lordship will or no. Thus he who once was mean & poor, At length enjoy'd a happy store, Which fortune unto him did send, And he prov'd grateful to his friend.
J. TURNER, PRINTER, HIGH STREET, COVENTRY, Supplies Shopkeepers & Travellers with all sorts of Histories; New and Old Ballads; Godly and other Patters, Carols; Cock Robin, Tom Thumb, London Cries; and various other Play Books for Children, on reasonable terms.