%ISOlat1; %ISOlat2; %ISOnum; %ISOpub; ]> THE CAVALIER's Genius: Being a Proper New Ballad. 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 06/24/2021 36442

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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

R214842 1 'Ods bodikins chill work no more, and forty other good Tunes I Tell Thee, Dick 'Ods Bodkins Chill Work No More, and Forty Other Good Tunes CH'ill tell thee Wat, ch'ave bin at Court, / Where I ch'ave seen most monstrous sport, British Library - Luttrell Editor none none none none Information in this section of the Source Description refers to the original ballad manuscript. 2: 32 THE CAVALIER's Genius: Being a Proper New Ballad. THE CAVALIER's Genius: Being a Proper New Ballad. ?-?

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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 6/24/2021 Santa Barbara, California, United States of America Ballads, English 17th century Broadsides, England 17th century 6/24/2021 10:48:31 AM XBallad Chen, Chelsea Created XML Version of Ballad 6/24/2021 10:48:31 AM Transcription Supervisor McCants, Kristen Transcription of ballad manuscript 6/24/2021 10:48:31 AM Double-Key Comparison and Merging Gerson, Sage Transcription of ballad manuscript 6/24/2021 10:48:31 AM Transcriptionist Two Mokhber Shahin, Nina Transcription of ballad manuscript 6/24/2021 10:48:31 AM Transcriptionist One Raychawdhuri, Anita Transcription of ballad manuscript 1/14/2019 Bibliographer Kristen McCants Initial Ballad Catalogue Record Created
<seg n="1" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">The CAVALIER's Genius: Being a Proper New Ballad.</hi></seg> <lb/> <seg n="2" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">To the Tune of, bodikins chill work no more, and forty other good Tunes.</hi></seg>
CH'ill tell thee Wat, ch'ave bin at Court, Where I ch'ave seen most monstrous sport, like to break my Guts ; For it did make me laugh full sore, Che thought I ne'r should give o're , better var than Nuts. But like the Parson of our Town, (Although cham call'd a very Clown) In order I'le proceed, To let thee know, there is Vorme in't, And many a very pretty hint, May do some good at need. When virst into the Court I came, A sight did make mine Eyne grow lame, Vor there I saw much people, Vamping upon the pitched Walk, With Chitter Chatter and much talk, Like Daws upon a Steeple. But as I star'd and gap't about To ken a v'rend amongst the Rout; Prethee think who I voune! Why faith and trigs I'le tell thee truly, Thou maist believe it to be no lie, the Biter of our Town. I mean the Mon cropt like a Freyer, That would not read the Common Preyer, Nor vorme unto the Church, Such as thou knowest God bless us all, Do gape for Reverend Bishops fall, And lie like Dogs at lurch. As soon as he did me espie, (For Rochet I had in mine Eye) He came and did salout me: With Sparrow Mouth and hanging Ears, And Countenance made up of Flears, I thought the Beast did flout me. He ask't me what I did make there, To come the Court about to stare, He vound it by my looks; Think what a twitter I was in, I thought a Courtier he had bin, And kin unto our Rooks. But taking heart a Grass I spake To him whose Neck was long as Snake, And eak his Ears also: Good Zur I hope it is no zin: I came to zee and to be zeen, And wou'd before I go. Why then quoth he pray understand, And mark the motion of my Hand, For here I do begin: And first these Walking Statues are Men quite undone by the late War, And brought so low for sin.
Their constant Walk is in this place, With Ragged Coats and Meagre Face, To get imployment here; But faith quoth he they are mistaken, For by our selves the Vish is taken, And then he gan to flear. Why, Goodman Parson, then quoth I, (And then I drew to him full nigh) Pray what d'y call these men? Why then quoth he they're Cavaliers, That fain would get their old Arreers, (And then he fleer'd agen.) Why Mon (quoth I) me-thinks that you Their company should much eschew, Chave heard you do not love 'em; No, no, quoth he, although do spiren, Their discontents I strive to heighten, And hope one day to prove 'em. Why (Goodman Parson) then quoth I, This is not right most verely, You should to Peace afford: Indeed, quoth he, I hate the same, I love to see all in a flame, And Men fall by the Sword. It is the way to redeem the Cause, And set up Covenanting Laws, Destroy the King and People; To turn the Bishops out of doors, To bring in any (nay the Moors) And pluck down Church and Steeple. For leisure now to us is given To make our scores with these men even, We walk in Sheep's disguise: We neither Preach, nor Pray, nor Fight, But Plot as silent as the night, And turn up White o' th' Eyes. If that we chance to break a Law, We value it not worth a straw, Our Party is most daring: If that we're into Prison put, We neither want for Purse or Gut, The Sisters are not sparing. For Instance I will to thee tell What to a Brother late befell, For holding forth in sport: He was in Newgate put indeed, From thence releas'd with as much speed, And went and din'd at Court. If thou hast Mony to bestow, Let me but thy desires know, Much can be done by me: For Brethren I have plenty here, Who makes for me most excellent Cheer, As I will let thee see.
At last I saw a Man come in, Me-thought he looked very thin, And he portended haste I ask'd him what this Man might be, Who seem'd as busie as a Bee, With Sword about his waste. That Man, quoth he, serv'd the late King, And acted many a gallant thing Against his Foes so fell; But now it seems that all is spent, And he doth stink like Fish in Lent, And cannot eat at Hell. Another presently I saw, That many to himself did draw, And eager was in's talk: Pray Zur, quo I, what is that Man With Papers many in his han, Who stately there doth stalk? Quoth he, he was a Man of late Of Wealth sufficient, and much State, But all was spent i'th'Wars; And now a Patent he hath got Old Shoos and Boots for to Transport, A Reward for all his Scars. Another then he shew'd to me, And bid me earnestly to see, And note him for a Wight; He told me 'twas a strong Projector, One that had serv'd the late Protector, But now was made a Knight. A pale-fac'd Fellow then came in, That look'd like one of our lean Kine, And stutter'd like a Prater: He told me that that zealous Trunk Did curse the coming in of Monk, For h[e] stood vor Sequestrator. But he [di]d tell me, he had got His feeding in a fatted Plot, And had no cause to grudge: And nimbly shifted had his Veil, And had abandoned the Tail, And now did serve a Judge. He told me then he could relate To me, of many in the State, That had crept into place; And that they were the Bretherns Men, That long'd to see the time as when Old Lenthal kept the Mace. And thus you see our Cause does thrive, And we are Men yet still alive, And swell in Court and City: And can on good occasion call Our Congregators to White-hall, And cut throats without pity.
At length the Clock struck Twelve, and I Immediately the Men did spie Walking out of the Gate: (Quoth I) me-thinks these Men should eat At Court (if there be any Meat) For Cheeks me-thinks do bate. No, no, (quoth he) th'are well apaid, When they their Congies all have made Unto the ominous Dial, No Provender her's to be got, For English, Irish, or for Scot, Unless they pay th'Espial. And that's impossible to doe, When to four Feet they han't one Shoe, Or penny 'mongst them all: Let 'em go dine at Humphreys Table, And pick their Teeth (if they are able) No meat is at White-hall. Thinking my self as bad as they, That nothing had for meat to pay; I made my Country Scrape; With full intent to go from Court, But he to me did streight resort, And thus to me did Gape; Gee ho! (old Neighbour) pray come back, And drink with me a cup of Sack, And eat with me also: For though I'm from your Parish put, This House my Purse doth fill, and Gut; Sing Biters all arow. Immediately he led me in, And through his Chamber, like an Inn. Vor store of meat was there; Of Meat of all sorts, and of Vishes Well drest and laid in Zilvern dishes; digs 'twas Christmas Vare. After that he a Grace had seid As long as is from hence to Head- lebourgh's Church or Steeple: He bid us to sit down and eat With plenty of that excellent meat Prepared for Good's People. And I among the rest sat down To Table that was very roun, Well Vurnished with meat; With Needle-teeth, and Post-boys speed, We claw'd it all away indeed, Good God how we did eat! At length we paus'd a while, and then One of those Crop-ear'd silenc'd men Begun a health about; And 'twas unto the Brethren all, That for the Cause did lately fall, And now were turned out.
Much more was going to be seid: But one amongst 'em jowl'd his head To them was going to say it; Hist, Brethren, hist, your mouth's up close, Though we won't talk under the Rose, With thinking let us pay it. The Cups flew merrily about Among the Zealous Prick-ear'd Rout, They star'd and glow'd like Bulls: If any were by drink o'rtaken, (I swear by the Head of Friar Bacon) They were all as drunk as Trulls. When I perceiv'd their Zeal at height, And they began to utter spight- -ful things against the King: I bid their Saintships all adieu, And trotted from that Rebel Crew, And out of Gates did Ding. And walking down the Street call'd Kings, From Chandlers shop I spi'd some Vrends That Stout and Loyal was: Before them Herrings stood and Ale, And Loaf half-penny worth full pale, They fed like Cow at Grass. Good-natur'd men! they call'd me in Thinking that belly-starv'd I'd been, And spake to me to eat; I told them Presbyterian Vare Was vat, and Commons there were bare, I came from better meat. Good souls! they griev'd my very heart, And made my very entrails smart, To see them brought so low; With them I spent a round old Shilling, They did receive it (though unwilling) And from them streight did go. But now to you Presbyting Johns, With Bloody Souls, and Lilly Hands, Chill never love you more; Vor I do think the Pope's good Grace, In all that's good, of you takes place, Although you call him Whore. Vor he refus'd to fight 'gainst King, When Pulpits did Rebellion Ring, Though offer'd Tolleration: And you, 'tis known, with purer zeal, Do hate the King and Common-weal, Unless of your own fashion. Now Wat, I think chave told thee All That in my Journey did befall, Chave nothing more to say. But pray to bless the King and Queen, And that in England may be seen A Princely Bonny Boy.
FINIS.