%ISOlat1; %ISOlat2; %ISOnum; %ISOpub; ]> THE / RECANTATION / OF A / Penitent Proteus, / OR THE / CHANGLING: / As it was Acted with good Applause in St. Maries in Cambridge, and St. Pauls in London, 1663. Wild, Robert 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 07/05/2021 36950

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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

R35251 2 Doctor Faustus Fortune my Foe Doctor Faustus NONE Fortune my Foe ATtend good people, lay by scoffs and scorns, / Let Roundheads all this day pull in their horns; MY Conscience first like Balaam's Asse was shie, / Boggled, and winc'd; which, when I did espie, Information in this section of the Source Description refers to the original ballad manuscript. 1: 17 THE / RECANTATION / OF A / Penitent Proteus, / OR THE / CHANGLING: / As it was Acted with good Applause in St. Maries in Cambridge, and St. Pauls in London, 1663. THE RECANTATION OF A Penitent Proteus, OR THE CHANGELING: As it was Acted with good Applause in St. Mary's in Cambridge, and St. Paul's in London, 1663. Wild, Robert ?-?

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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 7/5/2021 Santa Barbara, California, United States of America Ballads, English 17th century Broadsides, England 17th century 7/5/2021 5:27:01 PM XBallad Henderson, Olivia Created XML Version of Ballad 7/5/2021 5:27:01 PM Transcription Supervisor McCants, Kristen Transcription of ballad manuscript 7/5/2021 5:27:01 PM Double-Key Comparison and Merging McCants, Kristen Transcription of ballad manuscript 7/5/2021 5:27:01 PM Transcriptionist Two Raychawdhuri, Anita Transcription of ballad manuscript 7/5/2021 5:27:01 PM Transcriptionist One Zisa, Jessica Transcription of ballad manuscript 3/14/2019 Bibliographer Kristen McCants Initial Ballad Catalogue Record Created
<seg n="1" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">THE</hi></seg> <seg n="2" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">RECANTATION</hi></seg> <seg n="3" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">OF A</hi></seg> <seg n="4" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">Penitent Proteus,</hi></seg> <seg n="5" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">OR THE</hi></seg> <seg n="6" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">CHANGLING:</hi></seg> <seg n="7" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">As it was Acted with good Applause in St. <hi rend="bold">Maries</hi> in <hi rend="bold">Cambridge,</hi> and St. <hi rend="bold">Pauls</hi> in <hi rend="bold">London,</hi> 1663.</hi></seg> <lb/> <seg n="8" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">To the Tune of <hi rend="bold">Doctor Faustus.</hi></hi></seg>
ATtend good people, lay by scoffs and scorns, Let Roundheads all this day pull in their horns; But let Conformists and brave Caviliers Unto my doleful Tone prick up their Ears. Take from my neck this Robe, a Rope's more fit, And turn this Surplice to a Penance-sheet; This Pulpit is too good to act my part, More fit to preach at Tyburn in a Cart: There I deserv'd t'have taken my Degree, And Doctor Dun should have presented me: There with an hempen Hood I should be sped, And his three-cornered Cap should crown my head. Here I am come to hold up guilty Hand, And of the Beast to give my self the Brand: Here by confessing I have been i'th wrong, I come to bore my self through my own Tongue. In learning, my poor Parents brought up me, And sent me to the Universitie; There I soon found bowing the way to rise: And th'only Logick was the Fallacies. Instead of Aristotles Organon, Anthems and Organs I did study on; If I could play on them, I soon did find, I rightly had Preferment in the Wind. I follow'd that hot scent without controul, I bow'd my body, and I sung Fa Sol; I cozen'd Doctor Couzens, and ere long A Fellowship obtained For a Song. Then by degrees I climb'd until I got Good Friends, good Cloths, good Commons, and what not; I got so long, until at length I got A Wench with Child, and then I got a Blot. Before the Consistorie I was try'd, Where like a Villain I both swore and ly'd, And from the Whore I made, I was made free, By purging of my self incontinent LEE. But as I scorn'd to Father mine own Brat, 'Twas done to me as I had done with That. The Doctors all, when a Doctor I would be, As a base Son, refus'd to Father me; With much ado, at lenghth by art and cunning, My Tears and Vows prevail'd with Peter Gunning, Me to adopt; and for his love and care, I will devote my self to Peters Chair. Cambridge I left with grief and great disgrace, To seek my fortune in some other place; And that I might the better save my stake, I took an Order, and did Orders take. Amongst Conformists I my self did list A Son o'th Church as good as ever pist. But though I bow'd, and cring'd, and crost and all, I only got a Vicaridge very small. E're I was warm (and warm I ne're had been In such a starved hole as I was in) A fire upon the Church and Kingdom came; Which I strait helpt to blow into a flame.
<seg n="1" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">The Second Part.</hi></seg>
MY Conscience first like Balaams Asse was shie, Boggled, and winc'd; which, when I did espie, I cudgl'd her, and spurr'd her on each side, Until the Jade her paces all could ride. When first I mounted on her tender Back She would not leave the Protestant dul Rack, Till in her mouth the Covenant Bitt I got, And made her learn the Presbyterian Trot.
an hard Trot, and fretted her (alas The Independent Amble easier was; I taught her that, and out of that to fall To the Tantivy of Prelatical. I rode her once to Rumford with a pack Of Arguments for Covenant on her back. That Journey she perform'd at such a rate The Committee gave me a rich piece of Plate. From Hatfield to St. Albans I did ride, The Army call'd for me to be their Guide; There I so spur'd her that I made her fling Not only dirt, but Blood upon my King. When Cromwel turn'd his Masters out by force, I made the Beast draw like a Brewers horse: Under the Rump I made her were a Crooper, And under Lambert she became a Trooper. When Noble Monk the King did home conveigh, Shee (like Darius steed began to Neigh. I taught her since to Organ Pipes to prance, As Banks his Horse could to a fiddle dance. Now with a Snaffle, or a Twyned Thred, To any Government Shee'l turn her head: I have so broke her, she doth never start, And thats the meaning of my broken heart. I have found out a cunning way, with ease, To make her cast her Coat when e're I please; And if at Rack and Manger she may be, Her Colts Tooth She will keep most wanton. LEE. Ile change as often as the Man i'th Moon: His frequent Changing makes him rise so soon, To eat Church Plum-broth e're it all be gone, Ile have the Devils spoon but Ile have One. For many years my Tongue did lick the Rump, But when I saw a King was turn'd up Trump, I did resolve still in my hand to have One winning Card, although t'were but a Knave. If the great Turk to England come, I can Make Gospel truckle to the Alchoran; And if their Turkish Saboaths should take place, I have in readiness my Friday Face. If lockt in Iron Chest (as we are told) A Loadstone their great Mahomet can hold: The Loadstone of preferment (I presage) To Mahomet may draw this Iron Age. The Congregation-way best pleas'd my mind; There were most Shees, and they most free and kind: By Chamber practise I did better thrive Then all my livings though I Skimmed five. Mine Eyes are open now my Sins to see, With Tears I cry, Good people pardon me; My Revered Fathers pardon I do crave, And hope my Mothers blessing yet to have. My Cambridge sins, my Bugden sins are vile, My Essex sins, my sins in Ely-Isle; My Leicester sins, my Hatfield sins are many, But my St. Albans sins more Red then any. To CHARLES the first I was a bloody Foe, I wish I do not serve the Second so; The only way to make me leave that trick, Is to bestow on me a Bishoprick, This is St. Andrews Eve, and for his sake A Bishoprick in Scotland I could take; And though a Metropolitan there be, I'de be as Sharpe, and full as Arch as he. Now may this Sermon never be forgot, Let others call't a Sermon, I a Plot; A Plot that takes, if it believed be, If not I shall repent unfeigned LEE.