%ISOlat1; %ISOlat2; %ISOnum; %ISOpub; ]> A Ditty delightfull of mother watkins ale / A warning wel wayed, though counted a tale. 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 06/23/2021 37099

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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

S102118 1 NONE Watkins's Ale THere was a maid this other day, / and she would needs go forth to play. Information in this section of the Source Description refers to the original ballad manuscript. 1: 53 A Ditty delightfull of mother watkins ale / A warning wel wayed, though counted a tale. A Ditty delightful of mother Watkin's ale A warning well weighed, though counted a tale. ?-?

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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 6/23/2021 Santa Barbara, California, United States of America Ballads, English 17th century Broadsides, England 17th century 6/23/2021 12:46:36 PM XBallad Chen, Chelsea Created XML Version of Ballad 6/23/2021 12:46:36 PM Transcription Supervisor McCants, Kristen Transcription of ballad manuscript 6/23/2021 12:46:36 PM Double-Key Comparison and Merging Stark, Nicole Transcription of ballad manuscript 6/23/2021 12:46:36 PM Transcriptionist Two McCants, Kristen Transcription of ballad manuscript 6/23/2021 12:46:36 PM Transcriptionist One Raychawdhuri, Anita Transcription of ballad manuscript 4/11/2019 Bibliographer Kristen McCants Initial Ballad Catalogue Record Created
<seg n="1" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">A Ditty delightfull of mother watkins ale</hi></seg> <seg n="2" rend="left"><hi rend="italic"><hi rend="bold">A</hi> warning wel wayed, though counted a tale.</hi></seg>
THere was a maid this other day, and she would needs go forth to play. And as she walked she sithd and said, I am afraid to die a mayd. With that: behard a Lad, What talke this maiden had, whereof he was full glad, and did not spare, To say, faire mayd I pray, whether goe you to play: Good sir then did she say, what do you care? For I will without faile Mayden, give you Watkins ale, Watkins ale good sir quoth she, what is that I pray you tel me. Tis sweeter farre then Suger fine, And pleasanter than Muskadine, And if you please faire mayd to stay, A little while with me to play: I will give you the same, watkins ale cald by name: Or els I were to blame, in truth faire mayd. Good sir quoth she againe, Yf you will take the paine: I will it not refraine, nor be dismayd. He toke this mayden then aside, And led her where she was not spyde, And told her many a pretty tale, And gave her well of watkins ale. Good sir quoth she in smiling sort, what doe you call this prety sport? Or what is this you do to me? Tis called Watkins ale quoth he. wherein (faire mayd you may) Report another day, When you go forth to play, how you did speed: Indeed (good sir quoth she) It is a prety glee. And well it pleaseth me. no doubt indeed.
Thus they sported and they playd, This yongman and this prety mayd, Under a banke whereas they lay, Not long agoe this other day. When he had done to her his will, They talkt, but what it shall not skill: At last quoth she, saving your tale, Give me some more of Watkins ale. Or else I will not stay, For I must needs away, My mother bad me play, the time is past: therfore good sir quoth she, If you have done with me, Nay soft faire maid quoth he, againe at last. Let us talke a little while, With that the mayd began to smile, And saide good sir full well I know, Your ale I see runs very low. This yong man then being so blamd, Did blush as one being ashamde: He tooke her by the midle small, And gave her more of watkins ale: and saide faire maid I pray when you goe forth to play, Remember what I say, walke not alone. Good sir quoth she againe, I thanke you for your paine, For feare of further staine, I will be gone. Farewell mayden then quoth he, Adue good sir againe quoth she, Thus they parted at last, Till thrice three months were gone and past. This mayden then fell very sicke, Her maydenhead began to kicke, Her colour waxed wan and pale, With taking much of Watkins ale, I wish all maydens coy, That heare this prety toy, Wherein most women joy,
how they doe sport: For surely Watkins ale, And if it be not stale, Will turne them to some bale. as hath report. New ale will make their bellies bowne, As trial by this same is knowne, this proverbe hath bin taught in schools, It is no jesting with edge tooles. Thrise scarcely changed hath the moon Since first this pretty tricke was done, Which being harde of one by chance, He made thereof a country dance. And as I heard the tale, he cald it Watkins ale, which never will be stale, I doe beleeve: This dance is now in prime, and chiefly usde this time, And lately put in rime: let no man greeve, To heare this merry jesting tale, The which is called watkins ale: It is not long since it was made, The finest flower will soonest fade. Good maydes and wives I pardon crave And lack not that which you would have To blush it is a womans grace, And well becometh a maidens face, For women will refuse, the thing that they would chuse Cause men should them excuse, of thinking ill: Cat will after kind, all winkers are not blind, Faire maydes you know my mind, say what you will. When you drinke ale beware the toast For therein lay the danger most: If any heere offended be, Then blame the author, blame not me.
FINIS.