%ISOlat1; %ISOlat2; %ISOnum; %ISOpub; ]> REFLECTIONS / UPON / The Cahtolick Ballad. Pope, Walter 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 06/18/2014 33688

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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

R226350 1 None Jog On, or Eighty-Eight None SInce Drolling is grown, such a Trade / in the Town, Information in this section of the Source Description refers to the original ballad manuscript. 1: 1062 REFLECTIONS / UPON / The Cahtolick Ballad. Reflections upon the Catholic Ballad. Pope, Walter ?-? E.T

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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 6/18/2014 Santa Barbara, California, United States of America religious concepts religious figures religious groups Ballads, English 17th century Broadsides, England 17th century 6/18/2014 4:45:12 PM XBallad Forbes, Jonathan Created XML Version of Ballad 6/18/2014 4:45:12 PM Transcription Supervisor Meyer, Shannon Transcription of ballad manuscript 6/18/2014 4:45:12 PM Double-Key Comparison and Merging Doran, Thomas Transcription of ballad manuscript 6/18/2014 4:45:12 PM Transcriptionist Two Gutierrez-Jones, Natalia Transcription of ballad manuscript 6/18/2014 4:45:12 PM Transcriptionist One Jaworski, Cheryl Transcription of ballad manuscript 11/14/2012 Bibliographer William Hildalgo Initial Ballad Catalogue Record Created 10/7/2013 Checker Phillip Cortez Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 10/7/2013 Checker Phillip Cortez Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 10/7/2013 Checker Phillip Cortez Edited Ballad Catalogue Record
<seg n="1" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">REFLECTIONS</hi></seg> <seg n="2" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">UPON</hi></seg> <seg n="3" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">The Catholick Ballad.</hi></seg>
SInce Drolling is grown, such a Trade in the Town, That the Press goes without a Corrector; Sirs, have at your Sins, Here's a Gamester begins, Who Rhimes at the Rate of a Hector. That (What do ye call it?) The Catholick Ballad, Where Puns hang like Pebbles in Halter: many that read it, it gain'd so much Credit, It may pass for a COFFE-HOUSE Psalter. Mens Humours, alas! are come to that pass; He writes best, who scribles most fouly, With Sots and Buffoons, such paltry Lampoons Please better than Dryden or Cowly. the Subject that takes, and the Matter that makes The thing sell, not the Skill of the Songster: But that impudent Whore, who befould Lillys Door, Is not more unknown than this Youngster. Some would ha't a Divine, a old Friend of mine, But, if so, surely't had been more witty, And that Son of the Kirk, would have given a vile jerk To the Mass-men for Firing the City. But this Bonny Blade, to his Muse calls for Aid, Who brings him her Lap full of Meeters: He that hears them would swear, such Doggerel Gear Dropt down from the Scull of Hugh Peters. Ridiculous Niget, to scoff at St. Bridget, Saying, He needs not her Assistance, But he that will Fool, with a Romish Edge-tool, Had need keep himself at a Distance. Let the Citizens flout, and the Country cry out, The Papists appeal from this Sentence, And say, 'Tis not fair, the Porphiry Chair Should be judg'd by the Stool of Repentance. If some will averr, the Pope cannot err, No Reason to Laugh at their Folly, When not one Quaker of ten, but believes William Penn As infallible, and twice as Holy. I mean William Penn, that Wonder of Men, (If himself be not over-conceited) Who leads in his Lines, one and twenty Divines, Like Bears to the Stake to be baited. Yet I'le not perswade, to the Rosary Trade, For can I do anything Madder? Than to bid you Adieu, like a Tike in a Teugh, And Dye with a slip from a Ladder. But, if you'l bewitch, the World and grow rich, I advise you to Quaking or Dipping, Or the sanctifi'd Sniveling, that kind of Mock-Deviling 'Tis better than Fasting and Whipping.
They'l not be content, to be curb'd by a Lent, Good People, I'le tell ye the Reason, Their work must go on, both now and anon, For Sedgwicking's n'er out of Season. And when they transgress, they scorn to Confess, Which is a Popish Intrusion, They think to Rebel, and not go to Hell, For want of an Absolution. For in such a case, the Kings Act of Grace, Is the best Cure that ever was heard on: Which Jolly old SMEC may swear by his neck, Is more sweet than a Catholick Pardon. If they have got there, Saint Peter's old Chair, Let 'em keep it, 'tis pity to wrong 'em, When our nimble Sprites, that talk of new lights, Have Judas his Lantern among 'em. He shall preach that's no Priest, and hunt Anti-christ Quite thorough the Revelation. Whilst we take the Church, and throw't out at the Porch, Oh, Politick Reformation! The Box at the Door, that holds Alms for the Poor, Is an Eye-sore to our Spirit, For in it there lurks, the Doctrine of Works, That Men may be sav'd by their Merit. The Communion Table, we'l quickly disable, And the Font that looks like an old Roman, All down shall be thrown, but the Pulpit alone, And the Pulpit itself shall be common. Our Coblers shall teach, and our Weavers shall preach, Things fit for the Hang-man or Printer: Nay (more than all this) every Malepert Cis Shall bolt Motives as loud as the Hinter. For there's but one way, their Tongues to allay, Accustomed to speak what they please-a. Then if thon wouldst know (man) how to silence a woman Thou maist learn of *Theodore Beza. *Basiolo ta- cebit imo. Anglice, Kiss her A--- to quiet her. The stout spirit Byard, will never be Tyr'd, In the work of the Day he's grown Bolder, Than the Long-bearded Clerk, who carry'd the Mark Of his Martyrdom upon his Shoulder. Much more might be say'd, but that I'm afraid Of awaking the Wasps of the Nation: Let thus much of Rhime, suffice for this Time, Without Use or Application.
London, Printed for E.T. and are to be sold in Little-Britain. 1675.