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EBBA 37033

British Library - Huth
Ballad XSLT Template
A Ballad Intituled, a Newe welladaye /
As playne maister Papist, as Donstable waye.
Welladaye welladaye, welladaye woe is mee
Syr Thomas Plomtrie is hanged on a tree.

AMonge manye newes reported of late,
As touchinge the Rebelles their wicked estate,
Yet Syr Thomas Plomtrie, their preacher they saie,
Hath made the North countrie, to crie welladaye.
Welladaye, welladaye, welladaye, woe is me,
Syr Thomas Plomtrie is hanged on a tree.

And now manie fathers and mothers be theare,
are put to their trialles with terrible feare,
Not all the gaye Crosses nor goddes they adore,
will make them as merie, as they have ben before,
Welladaye, welladaye. etc.

The widowes be woful, whose husbandes be taken
the childerne lament them, that are so forsaken,
The churchmen that chaunted the morowe masse bell
Their Pardons be graunted they hang verie wel.
Welladaye welladaye. etc.

It is knowne they bee fled, that were the beginers
it is time they were ded, poore sorofull sinners
For all there great haste, they are hedged at a staye
with weeping & waylinge to sing welladaye.
Welladaye, welladaye. etc.

Yet some hold opynon, all is well with the highest
they are in good saftie wher freedome is nieste
Northumberland need not, be doutefull some saye,
and Westmorlande is not, yet brought to the bay.
Welladaye, welladaye etc.

No more is not Norton, nor a nomber beside,
But all in good season, they maye hap to be spide,
It is well they be wandred, whether no man can say
But it will be remembered, they crie welladaie.
Welladaye, welladaye. etc.

Where be the fyne fellowes, that caried the crosses,
Where be the devisers, of Idoles and Asses,
Wher be the gaie Banners, were wont to be borne
where is the devocion of gentyll John Shorne.
Welladaye, welladaye. etc.

Saint Pall, and Saint Peter, have laid them abord
and saie it is feetter to cleave to Gods worde
Their Beades, & their bables, are best to be burnd
and Moises tables towardes them to be turnde.
Welladaye, welladaye. etc.

And welladaye, wandreth still to and froe,
bewailinge the wonders, of rumors that goe,
Yet saie the stiffe necked let be as be maye,
though some be sore checked, yet some skape awaie
Welladaye, welladaye. etc.

And such some be sowers of seedes of Sedicion,
and saie the popes pardon, shall give them remission
That kepe themselves, secrete and preevilie saie,
it is no greate matter for this welladaye.
Welladaye, welladaye. etc.

You shall have more newes er Candelmas come
their be matters diffuse yet lookte for of some,
Looke on, and looke still, as ye longe to here newes
I thinke Tower hill, will make ye all muse.
Welladaye, welladaye. etc.

If they that leave tumblynge begin to wax climing
for all your momblinge and merie pastimeing.
Ye will then beleeve, I am sure as I saie,
that matter will meeve, a newe welladaye.
Welladaye, welladaye. etc.

But as ye be faithlesse, of God and his lawe,
so till ye see hedles, the Traitors in strawe,
You wilbe still whisperinge of this and of that,
welladaye, woe is me, you remember it not
Welladaie, welladaie. etc.

Leave of your lyinge, and fall to trewe reason,
leave of your fonde spieng, and marke every season
Against God & your countrie to taulke of rebelling
not Syr Thomas Plumtrie can bide by the telling
Welladaye, welladaye. etc.

And such as seduce the people with blyndnes,
and byd them to trust the Pope and his kyndnes
Make worke for the tynker, as proverbes doth saie,
by such popishe patching, still comes welladaye.
Welladaye, welladaie. etc.

And she that is rightfull your Queene to subdue ye,
althoughe you be spitfull hath gyven no cause to ye
But if ye will vexe her, to trie her hole force,
let him that comes next her, take heed of her horse
Welladaie, welladaie. etc.

Shee is the Lieftennante of him that is stowtest,
shee is defender of all the devowtest,
It is not the Pope nor all the Pope may,
can make her astonyed, or singe welladaie.
Welladaie, welladaie.

God prosper her highnes, and send her his peace,
to governe good people, with grace, & increase,
And send the deservers, that seeke the wronge way
at Tyborne some Carvers, to singe welladaie.
welladaie, welladaie. etc.

Imprinted at London in Fleetstrete beneath the
Conduit, at the signe of S. John Evan-
gelist, by Thomas Colwell.

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