%ISOlat1; %ISOlat2; %ISOnum; %ISOpub; ]> DIALOGU[E] / BETWIXT / A Glasgow MALT-MAN and an English EXCISE-M[AN] / at the Commencement of the MALT-TAX. / Written by Mr. Pennecuik. / Armati Terram exercent semperque recentes, / Convictare juvat, predas et vivere rapto. / Virg. AEned. L. 3. Pennecuik, Alexander University of California - Santa Barbara The Early Modern Center English Broadside Ballad Archive (EBBA) Director Patricia Fumerton Associate Director Carl G Stahmer 1725-1725 Early Modern Center, University of California Santa Barbara Santa Barbara, CA 07/15/2014 34330

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T166128 FLush'd with a double Draught of double Strong, / A merry Malt-man took his Morning Song; Information in this section of the Source Description refers to the original ballad manuscript. 1: 98 DIALOGU[E] / BETWIXT / A Glasgow MALT-MAN and an English EXCISE-M[AN] / at the Commencement of the MALT-TAX. / Written by Mr. Pennecuik. / Armati Terram exercent semperque recentes, / Convictare juvat, predas et vivere rapto. / Virg. AEned. L. 3. DIALOGUE BETWIXT A Glasgow MALT MAN and an English EXCISE MAN at the Commencement of the MALT TAX. Written by Mr. Pennecuik. Armati Terram exercent semperque recentes, Convictare juvat, predas et vivere rapto. Virg. AEned. L. 3. Pennecuik, Alexander 1725-1725

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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 7/15/2014 Santa Barbara, California, United States of America alcohol economics/ commerce violence Ballads, English 17th century Broadsides, England 17th century 7/15/2014 2:33:57 PM XBallad Chow, Jeremy Created XML Version of Ballad 7/15/2014 2:33:57 PM Transcription Supervisor Meyer, Shannon Transcription of ballad manuscript 7/15/2014 2:33:57 PM Double-Key Comparison and Merging Becker, Charlotte Transcription of ballad manuscript 7/15/2014 2:33:57 PM Transcriptionist Two McCants, Kristen Transcription of ballad manuscript 7/15/2014 2:33:57 PM Transcriptionist One Collins, Courtney Transcription of ballad manuscript 4/24/2014 Checker Erik Bell Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 2/10/2014 Checker Jeremy Chow Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 1/16/2013 Bibliographer Shannon Meyer Initial Ballad Catalogue Record Created
<seg n="1" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">DIALOGU[E]</hi></seg> <seg n="2" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">BETWIXT</hi></seg> <seg n="3" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">A <hi rend="bold">Glasgow</hi> MALT-MAN and an <hi rend="bold">English</hi> EXCISE-MA[N]</hi></seg> <seg n="4" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">at the Commencement of the MALT-TAX.</hi></seg> <lb/> <seg n="5" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">Written by Mr. <hi rend="bold">Pennecuik.</hi></hi></seg> <lb/> <seg n="6" rend="left"><hi rend="italic"><hi rend="bold">Armati Terram exercent semper que recentes,</hi></hi></seg> <seg n="7" rend="left"><hi rend="bold"><hi rend="italic">Convictare juvat predas et vivere rapto.</hi></hi></seg> <seg n="8" rend="left"><hi rend="bold"><hi rend="italic">Virg. AEned. L.3.</hi></hi></seg>
FLush'd with a double Draught of double Strong, A merry Malt-man took his Morning Song; Blyth as the Lark, chants to the rising Morn, Sung to the Praise of Sir John Barlycorn: He views the swelling Steep, and is well pleas'd, The Fount where Sir John Barlycorns baptiz'd; Gives him fresh Liquor, since his old is stale, Knowing he'll pay him back in humming Ale; Surveys his Circuit in its Breadth and Length, And laughs to see him quicken unto Strength: Then to the Kill, his Altar, doth retire, Where he, like Cere's Priest, keeps a perpetual Fire; Upon his Bed of Straw makes him ly snug, And cloathes him with a covenanted Rug, The Kirk's Hair-gown, and by that Weed's foretold, He'll prove a lusty Sinner when he's old. Back to the Floor returns, takes a new Broom, And, like a faithful Keeper, sweeps the Room: Toil'd with his Morning Task, lies down to rest, Making a Pillow of his Master's Breast. Scarce has he sunk to downy Sleep, when he Is rous'd from dreaming, by a turning Key, And Voice of Bully from a foreign Land, Come to Sir John, to gage his Stock in Hand: The figur'd Tap flies from Pandoras Box, Worse than the Plague, the Pestilence or Pox, Draws out an English Yard, and at the Length, Measures his Breadth, his Thickness and his Strength; Stop, stop ye English Taylor, Malt-man cries, And Reverence my Master where he lies, An English Suite was never on his Back, Naked at Home, Abroad he wears a Sack. D---n your Blood B---r Scot, quoth English Tom, (Who was an honest Highway-man at Home) I'm Servant to old England, and be Gad, We'll gage Sir John, and starve him out of Trade; We'll levy Taxes by a pow'rful Host, Go you complain unto Belhavens Ghost. May neither Oats or Oxen grace your Ground, Or Plants, or Eatables with you be found; May Lice and Mange suck and corrupt your Blood, And you, unfed, yourself be Vermine's Food, Till you herd English Hogs, thro' Want of Bread, And naught, save English Laws, be read be-north the Tweed.
Who can describe the mournful Malt-man's Ca[se,] Who saw old Tyburn in his English Face? Three Times he knock'd his Heart, which sun[?] And thrice the Scoop he flourish'd round his Hea[?] Kicking the Besom, round the Floor he ran, And threw a Firlot at the Gaging-man, Whilst Peets, like Hail-stones, flew upon his Hid[e,] Cried, D---l steep you English Rogues in Cly[de.] And when you've got Sufficient of the Steep, A Last of D---ls rot you in the Heap, And work you thro' their Floor with hellish S[?] Then dry you on their ever-burning Kill: Six Times he groan'd, and fell upon Sir John, Said, O my dear dead Master, art thou gone? Ah! how can we survive thy fatal Fall, Thou universal Parent of us all? Sucking thy Blood, we spent the merry Hou[rs] Thy Blood was consubstantiate with ours; Our Mother's Milk was soon expel'd by thi[ne] A Liquor scarce inferior to the Wine: Each Mouth, with Pleasure, gap'd to let th[?] The Nation was thy Flesh, thy Blood, thy ne[?] Glasgow, with Tears, lament thy rigid F[ate] From Glory tumbled to a wretched State; Thy Ships, like Woods, danc'd on the wat'[?] To fetch the Indies to our native Clime[?] From foreign Ports no more thy Vessels co[me] And Sir John Barlycorn dies at Home. Ah Glasgow! what's thy Guilt that makes [?] Is it for bearing Arms at S---e? Without Pay fighting for a F---n P---e, A very fine Reward he's giv'n you since. Weeping, he threw himself upon Sir John, Saying, I'll write thy Epitaph on Stone. Sir John Barlycorns EPITAPH An old bold Wariour, lies within this Clay, Who knock'd down Thousand Mortals in a [day.] At last he was betray'd by treach'rous [?] In the same Way by which they murd'red [?] What Guns could not perform, was done [?] In killing him they cut the Nation's Thr[?]
FINIS.