%ISOlat1; %ISOlat2; %ISOnum; %ISOpub; ]> Camelles Reioindre, to Churchyarde. / To Churchyard or Manaring, or for lack of a name: / To Dicar the dreamer, if you knowe the same. Camel, Thomas University of California - Santa Barbara The Early Modern Center English Broadside Ballad Archive (EBBA) Director Patricia Fumerton Associate Director Carl G Stahmer 1551-1551 Early Modern Center, University of California Santa Barbara Santa Barbara, CA 10/18/2018 36283

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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

S2995 MAye a man be so bolde (an order to kepe:) / To bid you good morow, now after your slepe? Society of Antiquaries of London - Broadsides Editor none none none none Information in this section of the Source Description refers to the original ballad manuscript. 1: 23 Camelles Reioindre, to Churchyarde. / To Churchyard or Manaring, or for lack of a name: / To Dicar the dreamer, if you knowe the same. Camel's Rejoinder, to Churchyard. To Churchyard or Manwaring, or for lack of a name: To Dicar the dreamer, if you know the same. Camel, Thomas Printer Hary Sutton 1551-1551

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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 10/18/2018 Santa Barbara, California, United States of America Ballads, English 17th century Broadsides, England 17th century 10/18/2018 11:37:54 AM XBallad Ward, Jayne Created XML Version of Ballad 10/18/2018 11:37:54 AM Transcription Supervisor McCants, Kristen Transcription of ballad manuscript 10/18/2018 11:37:54 AM Double-Key Comparison and Merging McCants, Kristen Transcription of ballad manuscript 10/18/2018 11:37:54 AM Transcriptionist Two Messner, Milena Transcription of ballad manuscript 10/18/2018 11:37:54 AM Transcriptionist One Raychawdhuri, Anita Transcription of ballad manuscript 8/21/2017 Bibliographer Kristen McCants Initial Ballad Catalogue Record Created 7/9/2018 Checker Kristen McCants Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 12/6/2017 Checker Kristen McCants Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 12/6/2017 Checker Kristen McCants Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 12/13/2017 Checker Kristen McCants Edited Ballad Catalogue Record
<seg n="1" rend="left">Camelles Rejoindre, to Churchyarde.</seg> <lb/> <seg n="2" rend="left">To Churchyard or Mannaring, or for lack of a name:</seg> <seg n="3" rend="left">To Dicar the dreamer, if you knowe the same.</seg>
MAye a man be so bolde (an order to kepe:) To bid you good morow, now after your slepe? If I may be so saucy, and make no mistaking: God speede master Dreamer, yf you be wakynge. But Dreamer or Dicar, or as you saye Davy: Whych shal I now cal you as our Lorde save ye? Three names are to many for one man alone: And two mo makes fyve, for faylyng of one. If you had twoo other, that men myght you seeke: Then had you a name, for eche daye in the weeke. But no man dothe doubte, that so sundrye names: Shuld have other loomyng them out of good frames. And therfore I thyncke, they come everychone: Out of some olde house, tho the postes begone. Or els kept in memory, for that they were founde: In some old stocke, in some noble mans grounde. And so do remayne, for mynde of your auncestry: As Syb to Sybbel, sibbes very properly. So Jermaines lyps joynde, & so M. Churchyard: And Mannaryng met, both in an Orcharde. And David the Dicar, came in wyth hys spade: And dolve up the Dreamer, tyl the line was made. And thus per consequence, sins your writing doth gre it: Youre name for my parte: David Dreamer be it. And good M. dreamer, your reason long sought for Hath combred your capax, I se very sore. Snap of the case, and yong and whot bloude: Have al to be fumed you, and moved your moode That daunger it were, in you of a feever: If heate and coller, shoulde cuple together. But thankes be to God, a vomet hath rydde: A culpin of collops, farre inwardly hydde. And now that your reason, hath fair brought it fourth It is a fayre reason, and a reason well wourth. And fyrst you reply, to myne objeccion: Wyth wordes of pleasure, as a man of correccion. Wherby you would seeme, a learned man of arte: And yet Master Mome, you are out of your parte. For as your aunswere, doth but talke and tomble: So you answer not me, but rayle out and romble. And yet had you markt, my then to your when: I no more falted you, then I dyd other men. I meane mad raungers, that so raunge at large: To medle with matters, not joynd to their charge. And such men I bad, as then I bad you: To send such whens home, theyr vycar unto. And leave dreaming dreames, to busi mens braines: Wyth nedeles matters, and as thankeles paynes. And thys lytle neded, to have netled your noddye: If you were (as you wold be) som prety wise body. But you wyl choplogicke, and be Bee to busse: But good Master Busserd, be good yet to us. And tel me in truth, and lye no whyt then: Have not I touched, no parte of your when? If you styl dreame not, as you do yet: I trowe I have touched, your when every whyt. I nede not to byd you, turne my text againe: But take your owne text, to aunswer your brayne. I touch not one poynte, that you wrote you saye: And yet you cal me, a Daniell strayghtway. Lo how these two now, agree in them selves: They both shame their master, these .ii. elvish elves. If you gyve me a name wythout an effect: your mastershyps brayne, is madly infect. And foule overshot, to bryng two for wytnesse: Whych are in themselves, cleane contraries I gesse But if my fyrst aunswer, doo seeme such a mistery: That you see not your when, ther answered alredye. Then to awake you, and rayse you from slepe. Good Master Dreamer, marke thys & take kepe. your when hath in it, a meanyng of who say, Whych ryghtly to meane, is thus ment I say: He hathe .v. Dreamer. Dicar. David. Mannaring. Churchyard. Aske him where he na- med hymself Lorde Man narynge, and howe he used it. Parturiunt montes, Nascetur ridi culus mus. Churchards aunsware doth but rail. Churcharde will bee the bussinge be. His replica [?]on. Hys when.
That when those things be, which these dais be not Then knit you your them up, in such sort as you wot But whome you accuse, in whenning so large. I meane not to open, nor put to your charge. But way with yourself, and sober your braines: And defend not a when, mighte put you to paines, I coulde perchaunce, make your when larger. And serve it before you as brode as a charger, And point you your when, by lyne and by Level. Againste Jupiters seate, and Jupiters Counsell. But I list not so narow, to loke to your whanning Nor make to your whanning, so open a skanning You bid me not slaunder you, I slaunder you not. If your selfe hurte you your owne is the spot. You ascribe to me, the manners of Gnato. Full clarkelye applyed good master Thraso. A tytle as meete, they saye that doo knowe me. As your title of dreame, to the matter of Davye. But vices in stage plaies, when theyr matter is gon They laughe oute the reste, to the lookers on. And so wantynge matter, you brynge in my coate. In faythe master dreamer, I borowed it not. Tho I have hearde, that good fellowes and so. Not you (goddes forbod) in borrowed geare go, But when every foule, hathe puld home his fether The soule and the body, may then dwel together And make a right sommer man, to let in the heate For clothes in whot wether, do but make men sweat Whiche you sir perchaunce, er sommer come out: Wyl use for a medicine, in travailinge aboute, And colloure the matter, wyth a title of season: As doutles your mastership, hath very good reason By which al that know you, wil thinke you wel hable To thrust a poore Camel, to lurke in some stable. And doubtles if dreaming, may eny thinge spede. I knowe David dreamer, wyl do it indede. But tho I have hearde, a Lion oft rore, I never hearde asse, so rore oute before, With bitings & bridellings, and raining of necks O fine master asse, howe sharpe be your checkes. You threaten to bitte me, to trim me and trick me: Wehe master asse, what, wyl you nedes kick me. Camelles and asses, be bothe mete for burden. Then gip fellowe asse, then jost fellowe lurden. No nerer my buttocke, jost jade are you winsyng? It is mery to see, master asse fal to minsing. Did you never here tell of the asse trapt in golde? Lo master asenoll, lo do as you shulde. you saye I knowe you not, and yet as I trowe: you caste your olde coat, a greate whyle a go. But if I mistake you, for that a newe springe, Hath wrought as a workman, to geve you a new skin And that I may not, now know you by eare mark Then for a more knowledge, to know you in dark Tye a Bel at your tayle, to make some tinginge. And ther goes the asse (I shal say) by the ringing. But whether I knowe you, or els do not knowe: Thus muche I knowe, and am certaine I trowe: An asse bindes no camels, tho he bray nere so loud Robin hoode so shewed me, out of a cloude. And when asses forget, to know what they are, Sir Launcelot then biddes, to nip them more nar, And Bevis of Hampton, whose cleargy I knowe: Biddes me serve you with the same sede you sow. And not to contende, for the asses shadowe. Whose shadowe I leave you, and bodye also. And thus, M dreamer, your folli hath brought me To followe you further, then first I bethought me Beinge muche sorye my pen so to spende. To answere your follyes, and thus lo I ende. Graculus or natus est Plu mis Pavonis Churchard is a fyne asse. De Asino au reo. The french almes, per- chaunce hath altred him. The asse wolde have a Bell to be knowen by Churchards Poetes. Robin hoode Sir Launce- lot & Bevis. Qualia vis metere: talia grana sere,
Domine salvum fac Regem & da pacem in diebus nostris. Thomas Camell, Imprinted at London by Hary Sutton, dwellyng in Poules churchyard.