%ISOlat1; %ISOlat2; %ISOnum; %ISOpub; ]> All is ours and our / HUSBANDS, Or the Country Hostesses / VINDICATION. / She durst not Scold 'tis counted for an Evil. / Sheel cheat and whore, and yet be counted civil; / Sheel fill her Pocketsby poor Drunkards Losses, / And send them all to Jayl by weeping Crosses. 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 03/03/2016 35076

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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

R17225 1 High Boys up go we Hey, Boys, Up Go We Hey boys up go we COme all you Tribes of Hostises, / That Women against do rail, Is nothing but what's our Due. [with variation] Houghton Library Huth EBB65H Editor none none none none Information in this section of the Source Description refers to the original ballad manuscript. 1: 3 All is ours and our / HUSBANDS, Or the Country Hostesses / VINDICATION. / She durst not Scold 'tis counted for an Evil. / Sheel cheat and whore, and yet be counted civil; / Sheel fill her Pocketsby poor Drunkards Losses, / And send them all to Jayl by weeping Crosses. All is ours and our HUSBANDS, Or the Country Hostesses VINDICATION. She durst not Scold ‘tis counted for an Evil. Sheel cheat and whore, and yet be counted civil; Sheel fill her Pockets by poor Drunkards Losses, And send them all to Jayl by weeping Crosses. All is ours and our HUSBANDS', Or the Country Hostesses' VINDICATION. She durst not Scold 'tis counted for an Evil. She'll cheat and whore, and yet be counted civil; She'll fill her Pockets by poor Drunkards' Losses, And send them all to Jail by weeping Crosses. ?-? P. Bro oksby

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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 3/3/2016 Santa Barbara, California, United States of America alcohol economics/ commerce marriage sex/ sexuality trickery/ deceit Ballads, English 17th century Broadsides, England 17th century 3/3/2016 4:48:09 PM XBallad Bell, Erik Created XML Version of Ballad 3/3/2016 4:48:09 PM Transcription Supervisor Palmer, Megan Transcription of ballad manuscript 3/3/2016 4:48:09 PM Double-Key Comparison and Merging Levinson-Emley, Rachel Transcription of ballad manuscript 3/3/2016 4:48:09 PM Transcriptionist Two Doran, Thomas Transcription of ballad manuscript 3/3/2016 4:48:09 PM Transcriptionist One Davey, Danielle Transcription of ballad manuscript 3/3/2016 Checker Rachel LevinsonEmley Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 2/18/2015 Checker Kristen McCants Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 11/24/2015 Checker Jamal Russell Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 1/7/2015 Bibliographer Kristen McCants Initial Ballad Catalogue Record Created
<seg n="1" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">All is ours and our</hi></seg> <seg n="2" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">HUSBANDS, Or the Country Hostesses</hi></seg> <seg n="3" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">VINDICATION.</hi></seg> <lb/> <seg n="4" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">She durst not Scold 'tis counted for an Evil.</hi></seg> <seg n="5" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">Sheel cheat and whore, and yet be counted civil;</hi></seg> <seg n="6" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">Sheel fill her Pockets by poor Drunkards Losses,</hi></seg> <seg n="7" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">And send them all to Jayl by weeping Crosses.</hi></seg> <lb/> <seg n="8" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">To the Tune, of the Carmans Whistle, Or High Boys up go we.</hi></seg>
COme all you Tribes of Hostises, That Women against do rail, Come lend me some of your advice Their glamorous Tongues to quail; And I will make it plain appear By nothing but what is true, That all that we get in the Year Is nothing but what's our Due. For if an honest Company Of boon good fellows come: And call for Liquor merrily In any private Room:
Then if I fill the Juggs with Froth Or cheat them of one or two If I can swear them out of both The Reckoning is my due. Or if a shurking Fellow come That have no mony at all And take up any of my Room And for my Liquor call: Then if I take away their Coat Let it be old or new: Or worth a Crown more than thee shot, nothing but what's my Due.
And some their are that are so bold, To swear that I must trust, When once my drink they have they think That then be sure we must: From such the Court or common Law, What 'ere their Wives insue Shall make their Arse to lye in Straw Their Beedding is all my due. My Husband must not Plow or Cart, Or work like other Men: My Children must not learn the art To either Card or Spin? My Tapster must live fine and brave For he of one make two And many a Groat for me he save nothing etc. But I must have anorher way Our livings forget, And when you hear I'm sur you'l say 'Tis nothing but what is fit: If Tap should fayl toot go the Tail The Proverb old is true, If half a piece come to my Fleece nothing etc.
Perhaps our Husbands would repine, If they of this should know And think our little Babes divine Were got in Cuckolds Row You know their gains come by the pains Of only me and you, They must not scorn to wear the horn nothing etc. Come Neighbours drink with one consent A lusty Bowl of Wine 'Twill break our Hearts of discontent And make our Noses shine: Each took the Cup and drank it up And swore shee'd spoken true And vow'd to have the 'tother Sup Before they bid her adieu. Then I that heard the Verdict past How this base cheating Crew, Consented all both first and last To make make poor Drunkards Rue; I took my Pen and writ this Song And to the Drunkards send it That they with me may strive to see Their wicked Life and mend it.
Printed for P. Brooksby at the Golden Ball in Pye-Corner