%ISOlat1; %ISOlat2; %ISOnum; %ISOpub; ]> A pleasant new Song, if youle heare it, you may, / Of a North-country-Lasse that had lost her way. University of California - Santa Barbara The Early Modern Center English Broadside Ballad Archive (EBBA) Director Patricia Fumerton Associate Director Carl G Stahmer 1630-1630 Early Modern Center, University of California Santa Barbara Santa Barbara, CA 10/16/2018 36011

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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

S124240 2 To a new Court tnne Farmer's Daughter of Merry Wakefield, The; Down in the North Country To a New Court Tune to the same Tune Farmer's Daughter of Merry Wakefield, The; Down in the North Country To the Same Tune VVIthin the North countrey, / as true report doth yeeld, HE plaied her such a fit, / it made her brauely sing: Manchester Central Library Blackletter Ballads Editor none none none none Information in this section of the Source Description refers to the original ballad manuscript. 1: 3 A pleasant new Song, if youle heare it, you may, / Of a North-country-Lasse that had lost her way. A pleasant new Song, if you'll hear it, you may, Of a North-country Lass that had lost her way. 1630-1630 H. Gosson

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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 10/16/2018 Santa Barbara, California, United States of America Ballads, English 17th century Broadsides, England 17th century 10/16/2018 8:59:55 AM XBallad Raychawdhuri, Anita Created XML Version of Ballad 10/16/2018 8:59:55 AM Transcription Supervisor McCants, Kristen Transcription of ballad manuscript 10/16/2018 8:59:55 AM Double-Key Comparison and Merging Bell, Erik Transcription of ballad manuscript 10/16/2018 8:59:55 AM Transcriptionist Two McCants, Kristen Transcription of ballad manuscript 10/16/2018 8:59:55 AM Transcriptionist One Tardiff, Ann Transcription of ballad manuscript 11/15/2016 Bibliographer Kristen McCants Initial Ballad Catalogue Record Created
<seg n="1" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">A pleasant new Song, if youle heare it, you may,</hi></seg> <seg n="2" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">Of a North-country-Lasse that had lost her way.</hi></seg> <lb/> <seg n="3" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">To a new Court tune.</hi></seg>
WIthin the North countrey, as true report doth yeeld. There stands an ancient country towne, is called mery Wakefield. Within this Country towne, a lively lasse doth dwell, She goes unto the marketplace her huswifery to sell. And walking all alone upon a certaine day, For to be short, it so fell out this faire maid lost her way. So wandring all alone upon the hill so high, At last it was her luckly chance a Shepheard for to spye. Was sitting all alone, upon the mountaine top, Singing bravely under a bush, and viewing of his flocke. To him this fayre maid hyed, and over the hils crost: That he might put her in the way, which she so long had lost. So walking thus apace, at length she came him nie, Whereas he sate under a bush, and did him curtesie.
God speed Shepheard she said, mery day to thee God send, I am undone Shepheard she said, if you stand not my friend. I going am quoth she, unto yon market towne, But by mischance have lost my way upon this hilly downe. I wandring here have beene, ere since twas breake of day: Yet could I never finde which was to mee the nearest way, The Shepheard then replyde, faire maid sit downe a while, And Ile shew you the nearest way, at least by halfe a mile. O no Shepheard she said, if I should stay here long. I should not reach the market towne, till all the market's done. Feare not the Shepheard said, but sit thou on this grasse. For thou shalt heare my Bag-pipes goe before thou further passe. So downe the Maiden sate, the Shepheard sate here by, And then he pluckt his bag-pipes forth and plaid melodiously.
<seg n="1" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">The second part. To the same tune.</hi></seg>
HE plaied her such a fit, it made her bravely sing: The musicke of his Bag-pipes sound made all the vallyes ring. When that his winde was spent, and he grew somewhat weary: He told her which way she should goe, and passe over no ferry. Shepheard Shepheard, she said, if reason may permit, Come play that lesson once againe, I may it not forget. Then at the Maids request, although it griev'd him sore, He plaid it over twice as long as he had done before. Then did she take her leave, yet loath she was to part, Although I goe, Shepherd she said, Ile leave with thee my heart. Faire well Shepheard she said, adew, nay twice adew: If ere I chance to lose my way, Ile come againe to you. The Shepheard then replyde, O no, O no not so You shall taste some of my browne beere, ere that you further goe. And some of my white loafe, and some of my greene cheese,
If I should stay, the maid replide, the market I should leese. And then my Dame quoth shee, will storme, and swear and frowne, If I sell not my huswifery before that I come home. What is your huswifery, faire maiden shew to me: Two payre of stockings she replyde: Come buy them now of me. What is the price quoth he, of this your huswifery? Halfe a crowne the maiden said. Hold take here is thy money. The lasse she was so glad, her huswifery was sold, To stay longer Shepheard she said, I dare be somewhat bold. So downe she sate againe, untill the day was spent: And he had folded up his Sheepe, then both together went. Each to his severall home. where what became of them, I doe not know, and therefore now here will I stay my pen.
FINIS. Printed at London for. H. Gosson.