%ISOlat1; %ISOlat2; %ISOnum; %ISOpub; ]> THE FANATICKS BARBER. / OR, / A New Cut for NON-CONFORMISTS. / Being a true Relation of the PARSON that was lately Gelt at Chemsford in Essex, / being taken in Bed with another Mans Wife. / Very proper to be sung in all Corporations of this Nation. / All the Town shan't save thee. 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 06/25/2021 36464

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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

R220238 O Women, you that can so well / Bewaile your own misfortunes British Library - Luttrell Editor none none none none Information in this section of the Source Description refers to the original ballad manuscript. 2: 80 THE FANATICKS BARBER. / OR, / A New Cut for NON-CONFORMISTS. / Being a true Relation of the PARSON that was lately Gelt at Chemsford in Essex, / being taken in Bed with another Mans Wife. / Very proper to be sung in all Corporations of this Nation. / All the Town shan't save thee. THE FANATIC'S BARBER. OR, A New Cut for NONCONFORMISTS. Being a true Relation of the PARSON that was lately Gelded at Chelmsford in Essex, being taken in Bed with another Man's Wife. Very proper to be sung in all Corporations of this Nation. All the Town shan't save thee. ?-?

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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 6/25/2021 Santa Barbara, California, United States of America Ballads, English 17th century Broadsides, England 17th century 6/25/2021 12:16:47 PM XBallad Chen, Chelsea Created XML Version of Ballad 6/25/2021 12:16:47 PM Transcription Supervisor McCants, Kristen Transcription of ballad manuscript 6/25/2021 12:16:47 PM Double-Key Comparison and Merging McCants, Kristen Transcription of ballad manuscript 6/25/2021 12:16:47 PM Transcriptionist Two Trujillo Marquez, Mariana Transcription of ballad manuscript 6/25/2021 12:16:47 PM Transcriptionist One Bracken, Lindsay Transcription of ballad manuscript 1/14/2019 Bibliographer Kristen McCants Initial Ballad Catalogue Record Created
<seg n="1" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">THE FANATICKS BARBER.</hi></seg> <seg n="2" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">OR,</hi></seg> <seg n="3" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">A New Cut for <hi rend="bold">NON-CONFORMISTS.</hi></hi></seg> <seg n="4" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">Being a true Relation of the <hi rend="bold">PARSON</hi> that was lately Gelt at <hi rend="bold">Chemsford</hi> in <hi rend="bold">Essex,</hi></hi></seg> <seg n="5" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">being taken in Bed with another Mans Wife.</hi></seg> <seg n="6" rend="left"><hi rend="italic"><hi rend="bold">Very proper to be sung in all Corporations of this Nation.</hi></hi></seg> <seg n="7" rend="left"><hi rend="italic"><hi rend="bold">All the Town shan't save thee.</hi></hi></seg>
O Women, you that can so well Bewaile your own misfortunes Come cry with me, for man undone, For acting 'tween the Curtaines, They say the Saracens are cruel, And Tartars they are grim; But fie upon Christian English man They never did like him. Now that I may your longing save And set your tongues a gabling, My song concerns a Parson; Lord! Well men of God be dabling? Yea verily even so it is, For mortal flesh is frail; And men of God like other men Bear lecherie in tayle. Ill tell it out, for Saints will crie Give me a mare behind If that a man must pay so dear For boaring Woman kind. Proceed therefore my doleful muse; In famous Essex where, The Town which you do Chemsford call, and thus it fell out there. Thus did it fall out there I say, The Parson there did live, They say he was a Presbyter The which I do believe. Quoth he unto his Neighbours wife, My Bowels earn for thee, Assist the feeder of thy soul In his necessity. Quoth she, Oh Sir, it cannot be That I my soul should damn: I'le warrant thee for that, quoth he, an't I thy Priest sweet Lamb?
Why did not David lye, quoth he with wife of bold Uriah? You'l say that he was punisht for't, But that my deare's a lie a. With that they laie down both toge-ther as doth the Lamb and Lion: Let's get a holie seed, quoth he, to thwack the foes of Zion. But oh that Butcher butcherly, that blinking bloody butcher, That just came in, in nick of time, as he was going to touch her. So Troy Town after ten years wars was taken unaware: And as the learned do recount, so Mosse did catch his Mare. They say cause Butcher came so pat, he had some private item; Some bid him call for witnesses, and afterwards indite him. Dite him quoth he, with irefull face, I'le dite him with a pox; So up he went whetting his Knife, and streight bounc'd ope the locks Judge how the Parson looked then, quo butcher, I come to kill ye; With that his tool which was so crank shrunk up into his belly. Art thou fit others for to teach. quo butcher then full gravely, And do such wicked things as these! all the town shan't save thee. The Priest thought to have scar'd the Butcher with a syllogism in Celarent Tar box quo to'ther, Priests were not made ut Butchers wives amarent.
With that he whip'd the bed cloaths off and in his hand he caught um, Quo he I'le have off every bit, though 'twere a mile to the bottom, O Caytiffe wretch, quo Parson then to make my fate so heavy; The Turk ne're gave so deep a wound unto the Tribe of Levy. Quo Butcher, pish------so Parson laie, in his own pickle sprawling: Ye bitch, quo he, unto his wife, I ha' spoil'd your caterwauling. Therefore all you that have long ears, reach them unto my text, For faith y'are all so given to't, that God knows who'l be next. For so it is now, that if ye ask where all the sawcie trade is, Why Players among Gentlemen, and Parsons among Ladies. Therefore I pray you listen well to what ye have heard this daie, First of all cause by such foul deeds you will yourselves bewray. Secondlie for that you offend the Brethren that are weak; Thirdlie and lastlie for your own and this poor Parsons sake. Therefore I tell ye once again take notice of my rime Write it'th' tables of your hearts; and so much for this time.
FINIS.