%ISOlat1; %ISOlat2; %ISOnum; %ISOpub; ]> BO-PEEP, / OR THE / JERKING PARSON / Catechising his / MAID; / A pleasant BALLAD 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 07/10/2021 37316

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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

R210957 1 Notcrof's Delight [unknown] Notcroft's Delight VVHen Oliver that Imp of Mars / did rule the English land, British Library - Bagford Editor none none none none Information in this section of the Source Description refers to the original ballad manuscript. 1: 106 1: 107 BO-PEEP, / OR THE / JERKING PARSON / Catechising his / MAID; / A pleasant BALLAD BO-PEEP, OR THE JERKING PARSON Catechizing his MAID; A pleasant BALLAD ?-?

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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 7/10/2021 Santa Barbara, California, United States of America Ballads, English 17th century Broadsides, England 17th century 7/10/2021 5:16:19 PM XBallad Fulmer, Elias Created XML Version of Ballad 7/10/2021 5:16:19 PM Transcription Supervisor McCants, Kristen Transcription of ballad manuscript 7/10/2021 5:16:19 PM Double-Key Comparison and Merging Stark, Nicole Transcription of ballad manuscript 7/10/2021 5:16:19 PM Transcriptionist Two McCants, Kristen Transcription of ballad manuscript 7/10/2021 5:16:19 PM Transcriptionist One Raychawdhuri, Anita Transcription of ballad manuscript 5/8/2019 Bibliographer Kristen McCants Initial Ballad Catalogue Record Created
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WHen Oliver that Imp of Mars did rule the English land, And London trembled at his force from Algate to the strand; Disorders did there Most frequent appear, As by this one you'l understand. There was a Parson (so tis said) a Crafty one I wot, Who in his house a pretty maid for exercise had got: Upon every fault She did, she was brought Coram nobis, and went to the pot. He catechiz'd early and late, and to her duty firkt her, Well could he preach, well could he prate, for hee's an able jerker: Before and behind water and wind He fetcht her up stifly, & yerkt her. The man was a man of conscience, and guided by the spirit To handle the flesh of the wench, according to her merit: The flesh being proud, Though sh'e were but a dowd, He knew the way well how to curry't. Reproof with a cudgel breakes bones, and other weapons gash; A rod is a tool for the nonce, that gives the gentle slash: The girle was but young, And shame ties her tongue, Whilst he brings her under the lash.
For breaking of commandements, of which there was no lack, She's punished to all intents by the little man in black. Though n'ere so demure, Her coats fly up sure As she hath a coat to her back. When table was not rubbed bright (which handkercheif did try) Or anything not set to right, belongs to huswifery; He took up her smock, And he lash't her nock, And corrected her zealously. Sabbath-neglects he's sure to pay, though to a Sabbath breach; For prating once whilst he did pray, he fetcht up the poor wretch: And he set the fool on the penitent stool, Whilst he a private Lecture preacht. One time above all was very sad, (upon some small omission.) The custome of women then she had, (a pitifull condition) Yet he administers The usuall glisters; For hee's her ghostly physician. Although she cry out, and lament, though down she fals, and kneels, Yet he knows not how to relent, and no compassion feels: For it was his use To take no excuse, Till he saw bloud run down her heels.
SOme question the mans discretion to meddle thus with's maid, And think it a forward passion, that put him on this trade: It being's wif'es place; Since Mol, Peg, and Grace By Mistresses hand should be paid. True, had his wife bin very young, a brave and lustie pudge, In hand as able as in tongue, he need not play'd the drudge. But she's very old, As I have been told, Which made the man to the work trudge. Wherefore to spare his consorts arm, and her two paire of eyes, Which could have done the wench no harm; He t'execution hies. With vigorous might And a nimble sight To look babies in the maides thighs. But the wicked do fleer and mock, and tauntingly give out, The Parson sure is a smell-smock now fy, ungodly rout, Did he but hear, Hee'd teach you to jeer, And indite you all t'other bout. Indeed, I confesse, were his taile as hot as his head the while; With a wench hee'd play truss a faile, soon as any within a mile: But he of all sure Can't the smock indure, 'Bout surplice he keeps such a coile. If Babylon's whore herself should come across his way, Be she n'ere so gallant. the elf would trounce her fine array. For when he is vext And a breech is his text, Hee'l be sure to claw it away. Every stroke he aim'd aright the wench he never mist her. He laid on blowes with all his might, nor us'd her like a sister: His arme had a spring, And so frely did fling, That every jerk rais'd a blister.
As the devil in his wild fits hug'd the witch, so he did hug her He stung her with unlucky hits: I shall not speak t' in mugger, He hath got the odds Of westminster rods, Though manag'd by black Jack Bugger. He's a friend of the Kings he brags, as back-friend to all rumps; Hee'd taw'd Bum politick to jags. and put um to their trumps: Hewsons strap, Prides sling, Could not give the ding As his rod, which he wore to the stumps. Let none doubt the truth of this story, although it seem absurd: Much truer it is then John Dory, for it is upon record: When were't not for Pack, The Presbyter Jack Had paid for his peeping, I heard. A triall there was in guild-hall, I shall not, readers, jobe ye; Court set, the maid swore point-blanck; all the people shouted, Ho boy! he was in a shrape, he could hardly scape, For tickling th' Apocryphal Toby. Her dying mothers oath came in, which witnessed the same; His wives oath though, if not from sin, yet sav'd him from the shame: For the parish Pope Can give himself scope To cog a dy in an ill game. One word to the vestry let me speake, one word, I say, or twain, Ere my discourse I off do break. for parson whipsters gain, That you him prefer To be Lecturer To London-maids in Birchen-lane.
Printed for the Belman of ALGATE by order of the Ward.