%ISOlat1; %ISOlat2; %ISOnum; %ISOpub; ]> THE / Wanton Virgins Frighted, / With the Spies Downfal / From the Tree top, to the Pond bottom. / OR, / The old Man Bugbeard by the black Bandilears and Buffcoats. 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 04/01/2016 35393

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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

R186234 YOu that delight in a Jocular Song, / come listen unto me a while Sir; Houghton Library 25242.67 Editor none none none none Information in this section of the Source Description refers to the original ballad manuscript. 2: 199 THE / Wanton Virgins Frighted, / With the Spies Downfal / From the Tree top, to the Pond bottom. / OR, / The old Man Bugbeard by the black Bandilears and Buffcoats. THE Wanton Virgins Frighted, With the Spies Downfal From the Tree top, to the Pond bottom. OR, The old Man Bugbeard by the black Bandilears and Buffcoats. THE Wanton Virgins Frighted, With the Spy's Downfall From the Tree top, to the Pond bottom. OR, The old Man Bugbeared by the black Bandoleers and Buffcoats. ?-? R. Kell

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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 4/1/2016 Santa Barbara, California, United States of America Ballads, English 17th century Broadsides, England 17th century 4/1/2016 3:18:04 PM XBallad King, Joyce Created XML Version of Ballad 4/1/2016 3:18:04 PM Transcription Supervisor Palmer, Megan Transcription of ballad manuscript 4/1/2016 3:18:04 PM Double-Key Comparison and Merging Levinson-Emley, Rachel Transcription of ballad manuscript 4/1/2016 3:18:04 PM Transcriptionist Two Bell, Erik Transcription of ballad manuscript 4/1/2016 3:18:04 PM Transcriptionist One Lazzarin de Morais, Rebecca Transcription of ballad manuscript 3/30/2016 Checker Rachel LevinsonEmley Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 2/9/2015 Bibliographer Erik Bell Initial Ballad Catalogue Record Created
<seg n="1" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">THE</hi></seg> <seg n="2" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">Wanton Virgins Frighted,</hi></seg> <seg n="3" rend="left">With the Spies Downfal</seg> <seg n="4" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">From the Tree top, to the Pond bottom.</hi></seg> <seg n="5" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">OR,</hi></seg> <seg n="6" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">The old Man Bugbeard by the black Bandilears and Buffcoats.</hi></seg> <lb/> <seg n="7" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">Tune of, <hi rend="bold">Ladies of</hi> London. </hi></seg> <lb/> <seg n="8" rend="left"><hi rend="italic"><hi rend="bold">This may be printed,</hi> R.P.</hi></seg>
YOu that delight in a Jocular Song, come listen unto me a while Sir; I will engage you shall not tarry long, before it will make you to smile Sir, Near to the Town there liv'd an old Man, Had three pretty Maids to his Daughters, Of whom I will tell such a story Anon, will tickle your fancy with laughter. The old Man he had in his Garden a Pond, in very fine Summer weather, The Daughters one night, they were all very fond to go, and bath in it together,
Which they Agreed, but hapn'd to be, o're-heard by a Youth in the house Sir, Who got into the Garden, and climb up a Tree, and there sat as still as a Mouse Sir. The branch where he sat, it hung over the Pond, at each puff of wind he did totter, Pleas'd with the thoughts he should sit so abscond and see them go into the water, When the old Man was safe in his Bed, the Daughters then to the Pond went Sir, One to the other two laughing she said; as high as our Bubbies we'll venter.
Upon the tender Green Grass they sat down, they all were of delicate feature, Each pluck'd of her petty-coat, smock, & Gown, no sight it could ever be sweeter, Into the Pond then dabling they went, So clean that they needed no washing, But they were all so unluckily bent, like Boys they began to be dashing. If anybody should see us says one, they'd think we were boding of evills, And from the sight of us quickly would run, to avoid so many white Devils, This put the youth on such a merry Pin, he let go his hold thro' his laughter, And as it fell out, he fell tumbling in, and scar'd them all out of the water. The old Man by this time a Noise had heard and Rose out of bed in a fright Sir, And comes to the door with a Rusty old Sword, there stood in a posture to fight Sir, The Daughters they all came tumbling in, and over their Dad they did blunder, Who Cry'd aloud, Mercy, O Good Gentlemen; and thought they were theives came to plunder.
The noise by this time the Neighbour-hood heard, who came with long Clubs to assist-him, He told them that three bloody Rogues run upstairs, he dar'd by no means to resist-them, Fo[r] they were Cloathed all in their Buff, he see as they shou'd in their shoulders, And black Bandilers hung before like a Ruff, which made them believe they were Souldiers. The Virgins their Cloaths in the Garden had left, and keys of their trunks in their pocket, To put on the sheets they were feign to make shift, their Chest t[h]ey could not unlock it, At last venter'd up these valliant men, thus Armed with Courage undanted, But took them for Spirits, and Run back again, and swore that the house it was haunted. As they Retreated the young man they met, come shivering in at the door Sir, Who look'd like a Rat with his Cloaths droping wet, no Rogue that was pump'd could look worser All were amaz'd to see him come in, and ask'd of him what was the matter, He told them the story, and where he had been, which made them burst into a laughter.
Printed for R. Kell at the Blew-Anchor near Pye-Corner.