%ISOlat1; %ISOlat2; %ISOnum; %ISOpub; ]> The wonderfull example of God shewed vpon Iasper Coningham, a Gentleman borne in / Scotland, who was of oppinion that there was neither God nor Diuell, Heauen nor Hell. 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 06/24/2014 33239

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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

S91498 1 O neighbour Robert. Lord Willoughby O neighbour Robert. IT was a Scotchman, / a Scotchman lewd of life: Information in this section of the Source Description refers to the original ballad manuscript. 1: 714 The wonderfull example of God shewed vpon Iasper Coningham, a Gentleman borne in / Scotland, who was of oppinion that there was neither God nor Diuell, Heauen nor Hell. The wonderfull example of God shewed upon Jasper Coningham, a Gentleman borne in Scotland, who was of oppinion that there was neither God nor Divell, Heaven nor Hell. The wonderful example of God shewed upon Jasper Coningham, a Gentleman born in Scotland, who was of opinion that there was neither God nor Devil, Heaven nor Hell. ?-? Thomas Millington

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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 6/24/2014 Santa Barbara, California, United States of America death family punishment religious figures sex/ sexuality vice violence Ballads, English 17th century Broadsides, England 17th century 6/24/2014 11:52:15 AM XBallad Chow, Jeremy Created XML Version of Ballad 6/24/2014 11:52:15 AM Transcription Supervisor Meyer, Shannon Transcription of ballad manuscript 6/24/2014 11:52:15 AM Double-Key Comparison and Merging Meyer, Shannon Transcription of ballad manuscript 6/24/2014 11:52:15 AM Transcriptionist Two Moss, Benjamin Transcription of ballad manuscript 6/24/2014 11:52:15 AM Transcriptionist One Yuen, Pui Transcription of ballad manuscript 5/23/2013 Checker Shannon Meyer Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 2/8/2013 Checker William Hildalgo Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 10/30/2012 Bibliographer Olivia Miller Initial Ballad Catalogue Record Created
<seg n="1" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">The wonderfull example of God shewed upon Jasper Coningham, a Gentleman borne in</hi></seg> <seg n="2" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">Scotland, who was of oppinion that there was neither God nor Divell, Heaven nor Hell.</hi></seg> <lb/> <seg n="3" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">To the tune of O neighbour Robert.</hi></seg>
IT was a Scotchman, a Scotchman lewd of life: That long had lived, unlawfull from his wife. His name was Jasper Coningham, as I doe understand: whose dwelling was neer Aberdine, a towne in faire Scotland. He had a sister, which was both faire and bright: Worshipfully wedded, unto a wealthy knight. Godly, wise, and vertuous, in everything was she: A fairer comely Lady, in Scotland could not be. Her wicked brother, such inward pangs did proove: With his faire sister, he greatly falles in love. He watches time he woes her, and shewes to her his minde: And still he saith sweet sister: be not to me unkinde. This comely Lady, in milde and gentle wise: Unto her brother, thus modestly replyes, The Lord forbid deare brother, I should consent at all, To such a damned action, to bring our soules in thrall. Is not great torments, prepar'd for hatefull sinne: Is not God as righteous, as he hath ever bin: Is not hell prepared, with quenchles flames of fire: To give such wicked persons, their due deserved hire. Her brother hearing, her godly Christian talke: Within the garden, as they alone did walke, Blasphemously replied, all shameles as he stood: Saying she had declared, a tale of Robin Hood. You are deceived, faire sister then quoth he: To talke of heavens glorie, or of hels paine to me.
These are devised fables, to keepe poore fooles in feare: That were by wisemen written, though no such things there were. Alasse he said my sister, these things are nothing so: No God nor divell is biding, no heaven nor hell I know. All things are wrought by Nature, the earth, the aire, and skie: There is no joy nor sorrow, after that man dooth die. Therefore let me have pleasure, while here I doe remaine: I feare not Gods displeasure, nor hels tormenting paine. No sooner had he spoken, this foule blasphemous thing: But that a heavie judgement, the Lord did on him bring. For in the garden, whereas he did bide: Sodainely a fire, sprung up on every side. Which round about enclosed, this damned wretch that day: Who roar'd and cri'd most greevously but could not start away. This fearefull fire, by to his knees did rise: Burning blew like Brimstone, in most outragious wise. The Lady which beheld it, ran crying in for ayde: To plucke away her brother, which in the fier staid. But not a finger, nor hand that he could moove, His armes hung dead beside him, great paine that he did proove: And now he bans and curses, the day that he was borne: And wishes that his carcase, by divels might be torne. Now feele I surely, quoth he there is a God: That sore dooth plague me, with his strong Iron rod. O hide me from his presence, his lookes are death to me: Nothing but wrath and vengeance, about him I doe see.
And with these speeches, his eyes fell from his head, And by the strings hung dangling, below his chin starke dead. See how the divels he said, have pluckt my eyes out quite: That alwayes were unworthy, to view the heavens light. Then from his mouth, his foule blasphemous tongue: In uglie manner, most pitiously it hung: And there away it rotted, in all the peoples sight: By lice and filthy vermin, it was consumed quite. With gastly gronings, and shrikes that sounded hye: two houres after, this cursed man did lie: And there at length he died, and then the fire ceast: His carcase stunk more filthilie, then any carrion beast. No man was able, for to endure the smell: Nor yet to come to burie him, as true report doth tell, Untill he was consumed, he lay above the ground: the doores about the garden, therefore was locked round. Let all blasphemers, take warning by this thing: Least that Gods vengeance, they do upon them bring: And Lord grant all good Christians his grace and godly feare, they may thinke on the punishment, that Coningham had here.
FINIS. Imprinted at London for Thomas Millington, and are to be solde at his shop in Corne- hill.