%ISOlat1; %ISOlat2; %ISOnum; %ISOpub; ]> April Horse RACE: / OR, THE / Prodigal BAKER, / Beaten in a Horse Race on the Twelfth of April, behaving lay'd Four hun- / dred Guineas to Seventeen, which Wager he lost, to the laughing Satis- / faction of the People. 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 06/25/2014 33833

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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

R170362 1 O brave Popery. UNKNOWN O brave Popery. YOu Bakers now do you not hear the sad news, / How one of your Brothers has happen'd to lose O poor Baker now, sorrowful Baker now, / Four hundred Guineas has lost. [with variation] Information in this section of the Source Description refers to the original ballad manuscript. 1: 1381 April Horse RACE: / OR, THE / Prodigal BAKER, / Beaten in a Horse Race on the Twelfth of April, behaving lay'd Four hun- / dred Guineas to Seventeen, which Wager he lost, to the laughing Satis- / faction of the People. April Horse RACE: OR, THE Prodigal BAKER, Beaten in a Horse Race on the Twelfth of April, behaving laid Four hundred Guineas to Seventeen, which Wager he lost, to the laughing Satisfaction of the People. ?-? J. Murrey

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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 6/25/2014 Santa Barbara, California, United States of America advice class economics/ commerce entertainments Ballads, English 17th century Broadsides, England 17th century 6/25/2014 10:44:12 AM XBallad Rice, Sarah Created XML Version of Ballad 6/25/2014 10:44:12 AM Transcription Supervisor Meyer, Shannon Transcription of ballad manuscript 6/25/2014 10:44:12 AM Double-Key Comparison and Merging Meyer, Shannon Transcription of ballad manuscript 6/25/2014 10:44:12 AM Transcriptionist Two Keller Scotch, Grace Transcription of ballad manuscript 6/25/2014 10:44:12 AM Transcriptionist One Koath, Jayne Transcription of ballad manuscript 11/6/2013 Checker Phillip Cortez Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 11/6/2013 Checker Phillip Cortez Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 11/6/2013 Checker Phillip Cortez Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 11/20/2012 Bibliographer Shannon Meyer Initial Ballad Catalogue Record Created
<seg n="1" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">April Horse RACE:</hi></seg> <seg n="2" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">OR, THE</hi></seg> <seg n="3" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">Prodigal BAKER,</hi></seg> <seg n="4" rend="left"><hi rend="italic"><hi rend="bold">Beaten in a Horse Race on the Twelfth of</hi> April, <hi rend="bold">he having lay'd Four hun-</hi></hi></seg> <seg n="5" rend="left"><hi rend="bold"><hi rend="italic">dred Guineas to Seventeen, which Wager he lost, to the laughing Satis-</hi></hi></seg> <seg n="6" rend="left"><hi rend="bold"><hi rend="italic">faction of the People.</hi></hi></seg> <lb/> <seg n="7" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">The Tune, <hi rend="bold">O brave Popery.</hi></hi></seg>
YOu Bakers now do you not hear the sad news, How one of your Brothers has happen'd to lose A Race, which does cause him to fret, grieve and muse: O poor Baker now, sorrowful Baker now, Four hundred Guineas has lost. This Baker got well by the Bread that he sold, Who could lay four hundred Guineas in gold, Against seventeen; you'd say he was bold: O poor Baker now, prodigal Baker now, Four hundred Guineas has lost. The Wager was laid on an old scrubbed Horse, By which he sustained this terrible loss; His Guineas are gone without any remorse: Oh! the Baker now, sorrowful Baker now, Four hundred Guineas has lost. It seems he was prodigal, eager and hot, And since he has met with so fatal a lot, 'Twas well if the Money was honestly got: Oh! the Baker now, prodigal Baker now, Four hundred Guineas has lost. Betimes in the Morning the Race was begun, From Shoreditch to Ware the old Horse was to run, And then back again; it was instantly done: Oh! the Baker now, etc. Four hundred, etc. The like of this Wager sure never was seen, Full four hundred Guineas against seventeen, The Baker he ventur'd; now, what did he mean: Oh! the Baker now, etc. Four hundred, etc. This Horse he was loaded with many long Years, But ah! how he pranced and prick'd up his Ears, In order, to pay off the Baker's Arrears: Oh! the Baker now, etc. Four hundred, etc.
We need not to grieve if his loss had been more, For Bakers this Winter has punished the Poor, By raising their Bread, to replenish their store: Oh! the Baker now, etc. Four hundred, etc. We make no great question but some of the rest, By whom all the Winter the Poor was opprest; May, by their own follies, bewray their own Nest; Oh! the Baker now, etc. Four hundred, etc. The Gold which he has so unluckily lay'd, And lost, if it had been lay'd out of Trade; Some Millions of halfpenny Rowls would have made Oh! the Baker now, etc. Four hundred, etc. The Bakers of late merry lives they have led, Who rowled in Money by raising of Bread, But this amongst many is worthily spread: Oh! the Baker now, etc. Four hundred, etc. I hope he now has enough of a Race, Since there is few or none now that pities his case, But e'ry one fliggers and laughs in his Face: Oh! the Baker now, etc. Four hundred, etc. Since he has more Money than many of us, And therefore the Baker was proud of his Purse, Or else he would never have ventured thus: Oh! the Baker now, prodigal Baker now, Four hundred Guineas has lost. This Money it might have been better imploy'd, Then thus to be lost in a Galloping ride; But what shall we say, it may pull down his pride: Oh! the Baker now, Meal-men and Bakers now, Never lay Wagers like him.
London: Printed for J. Murrey, at the Unicorn in Leather-lane.