%ISOlat1; %ISOlat2; %ISOnum; %ISOpub; ]> The Roaring Black-Smiths Resoution; Jordan, Thomas 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 08/23/2021 36494

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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

R179040 2 Farwell to St. Gileses [unknown] Farewell to St. Giles's to the same tune [unknown] To the Same Tune THe prettiest Jest that ere I heard / to you I will declare, AT last the oyle of Barley / did worke so gallantly, Let's drinke and rant, / And sing a merry straine, / And when the Flaggons out then fill it again [with variation] Then they left off their ranting / I tell you very plaine / The Flaggon it was out but was not fild again | The Tapster then was sick / In every vaine, / Because he fild his Beere, and had nothing for his pain [with variation] | Oh now my heart, / Is full of griefe and paine, / Give me my money & take your drink again [with variation] Information in this section of the Source Description refers to the original ballad manuscript. 1: 18 The Roaring Black-Smiths Resoution; The Roaring Black-Smiths Resoution; The Roaring Blacksmith's Resolution; Jordan, Thomas ?-? Richard Burton

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<seg n="1" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">The Roaring <hi rend="bold">Black-Smiths</hi> Resoution;</hi></seg> <seg n="2" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">OR,</hi></seg> <seg n="3" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">A merry Ditty compos'd on purpose to make you laugh.</hi></seg> <lb/> <seg n="4" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">There was a <hi rend="bold">B</hi>lack-smith liv'd in <hi rend="bold">Cambridge-</hi>sheire,</hi></seg> <seg n="5" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">As I lately for certaine truth did heare:</hi></seg> <seg n="6" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">That had great meanes indeed but wasted all,</hi></seg> <seg n="7" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">And then to Poverty he straight did fall,</hi></seg> <seg n="8" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">His Passages in verse I here have writ</hi></seg> <seg n="9" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">Hoping thereby that some will learne more wit,</hi></seg> <seg n="10" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">He doth recant at last and bids adieu</hi></seg> <seg n="11" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">To all his boone companions old and new.</hi></seg> <lb/> <seg n="12" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">To a Pleasant new Tune, cal'd <hi rend="bold">Farwell to St. Gileses</hi></hi></seg>
THe prettiest Jest that ere I heard to you I will declare, If you'l have but the patience to stay the same to heare, 'Tis of a roaring Blacksmith, that blew old Vulcan's Bellowes, And this same tone be often us'd, amongst his boone good-fellowes, Let's drinke and rant, And sing a merry straine, And when the Flaggons out then fill it again Run Tap run Tapster this was all his note, Till almost all his substance, he had swallowed downe his throat, And all that ere he got beside, by his owne consent, Amongst his boone companions, as freely should be spent, Let's drinke, let's rant Let sing a merry straine And when the Flaggon's out then fill it again O fie upon the Tapster, what shall we sit and choake, Before that we will want Beere, I mean to pawne my cloake, Or what is the occasion that causeth all this strife
Take away my Beere and company. and take away my life, Then drinke, and rant And sing a merry straine And when the Flaggons out then fill it againe Give me some tobacco and a pretty Wench Hang them that deserve it, for I will never flinch, As long as I have money, Ile vapour and roar, And when that all my stock is gone, Ile straight waies worke for more, Then drinke, and rant And sing a merry straine And when the Flaggons out then fill it again The Tapster he was ready to fill when they did call And thought he'd been some gallant, that would have paid for all And with all speed as might be, they for a Maiden sent, On purpose for to give this gallant Gentleman content, Then drinke, and rant And sing a merry straine And when the Flaggon's out then fil't again
<seg n="1" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">The second part, to the same tune.</hi></seg>
AT last the oyle of Barley did worke so gallantly, That it laid the youngster fast asleepe, amongst his company, The Tapster then did aske how, the reckoning should be paid, But all his guests was in a dump, and never a word was said, Then they left off their ranting I tell you very plaine The Flaggon it was out but was not fild again Then quoth the Maiden a trick I will devise I make no question of it, but we shall get a prize, We'l dive into his pocket, and take away his store, But they found but one poore groat; for he had nere a penny more, The Tapster then was sick In every vaine, Because he fild his Beere, and had nothing for his pain Then the Tapster tooke this Gentleman, and flung him out o'th doores, And bad a pox take all such Customers, that would not pay their scores, He likewise then made bold to take, his Coat from him away, Because he lov'd to call for Beere, and never meant to pay, The Tapster then was satisfied, For all his Beere and paine, But he vowd nere to fill to such Customers againe Here is the Black-smiths speech after his Recovery, having cast up his reckonings he bad adieu to all his old companions. BY this time the Black-smith began for to awake, He stard and look'd about him and his head began to ake,
He cast up his reckonings, though nothing he did pay, And he fumbled in his pocket, and, these words began to say, Oh now my heart, Is full of griefe and paine, Give me my money & take your drink again Farewell to Cambridge and farewell the Hinde, And farewell me money since I can no favour find, Farwell my Mistriss and farwel her scores and farewell the Tapster, That flung me out o'th doore With Oh! my heart Is full of griefe and paine Give me my money & take your drinke againe Farwell my company, and farwell my Coat, Farwell my Customers that stole away my groat, Farwell Tobacco, and farewell the Ale, Farwell that bonny Lass that told me many a Tale, With Oh! my heart Is full of griefe and paine Give me my money and take your drink again Farwell all Ale-wives. where ever they be, And I wish all good fellowes for to be rul'd by me, To save their money and fuddle no more, Least poverty come in and fling them out o'th doores As it hath done me I tell you very plaine, But I am resolved nere to be drunke againe
FINIS. T.J. London, Printed for Richard Burton in Smithfield