%ISOlat1; %ISOlat2; %ISOnum; %ISOpub; ]> The Lamentation of a Bad Market: / OR, / The Disbanded Souldier. 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 07/01/2021 36715

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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

R212484 IN Red-coat Raggs attired, / I wander up and down, Alas poor Souldier, whither wilt thou march? [with variation] British Library - Thomason Tracts Editor none none none none Information in this section of the Source Description refers to the original ballad manuscript. 25: 58 The Lamentation of a Bad Market: / OR, / The Disbanded Souldier. The Lamentation of a Bad Market: OR, The Disbanded Soldier. ?-? Charles Gustavus

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<seg n="1" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">The Lamentation of a Bad Market:</hi></seg> <seg n="2" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">OR,</hi></seg> <seg n="3" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">The Disbanded Souldier.</hi></seg>
IN Red-coat Raggs attired, I wander up and down, Since Fate and Foes conspired, thus to array me, or betray me, to the harsh censure of the Town; My Buffe doth make me Boots, my Velvet-coat and Scarlet Which us'd to do me credit, with many a Sodom Harlot, Have bid me all adieu most despicable Varlet: Alas poor Souldier, whither wilt thou march? I've been in France and Holland, guided by my starrs, I've been in Spain and Poland, I've been in Hungaria, in Greece and Italy, and served them in all their Wars; Brittain these 18 years has known my desperate slaughter, I've killed ten at one blow, even in a fit of laughter, Gone home again and smil'd, and kiss'd my Landlords Daughter. Alas poor Souldier, etc. My valour so prevailed, meeting with my Foes, Which strongly me assailed; Oh! strange I wondred, they were a hundred, yet I routed them with few blowes; This Fauchion by my side, has kill'd more men Ile swear it, Then Ajax ever did, alas he ne'er came near it, Yea more then Priams Boy, or all that ere did hear it: Alas poor Souldier, etc. For King and Parliament, I was a Praester John, Devout was my intent; I haunted Meetings, used zealous greetings, crept full of Devotion; Smectymnuus won me first, then holy Nye prevail, Then Captain Kiffin flops me with John of Leydons Tail, Then Fox and Naylor bangs me with Jacob Beamonds flail: Alas poor Souldier, etc. I did about this Nation, hold forth my gifts and teach, Maintained the tolleration; the common story, and Directory, I Damnd with the word (Preach) Time was when all Trades failed, men counterfeitly zealous, Turn'd Whining Snievling Praters, or kept a country Ale-house, Gat handsom Wives turn'd Cuckolds, howe're were very jealous: Alas poor Souldier, etc.
The World doth know me well, I ne're did peace desire, Because I could not tell, of what behaviour, I should savour, in a Field of Thundring fire; When we had murdered King, confounded Church and State, Divided Parks and Forests, Houses, Money, Plate, We then did Peace desire to keep what we had gat: Alas poor Souldier, whither wilt thou march? Surplice was surplisage, we Voted right or wrong, Within that furious Age of the Painted Glass, oh Pictured Brass, and Liturgie we made a Song. Bishops and Bishops Lands were superstitious words, Until in Souldiers hands, and so were Kings and Lords; But in fashion now again in spight of all our Swords: Alas poor Souldier, etc. Some say I am forsaken by the great men of these times, And they're no whit mistaken, it is my Fate to be out of date, my Masters most are guilty of such crimes; Like an old Almanack I now but represent, How long since Edge-hill fight, or the Rising was in Kent, Or since the dissolution of the first Long-Parliament. Alas poor Souldier, etc. Good Sirs what shall I fancie, amidst these gloomy dayes? Shall I goe Court brown Nancy, in a Countrey Town, they'l call me Clown, If I sing them my Out-landish Playes; Let me in inform their Nodle with my Heroick Spirit, My Language and worth besides, transcend unto merit, They'l not believe one word, what mortal flesh can bear it? Alas poor Souldier, etc. Into the Countrey places, I resolve to goe, Amongst those Sun burnt Faces, I'le goe to Plough, or keep a Cow; that my Masters now again must do: Souldiers ye see will be of each Religion, They're but like Stars, which when the true Sun rise they're gon; Ile to the Countrey goe, and there Ile serve Sir John: I, I, 'tis thither, and thither will I goe.
FINIS. LONDON, Printed for Charles Gustavus, 1660.