Anonymous
¶[i6th Century]jj BalowBalow, my babe, lie still and sleep!It grieves me sore to see thee weep.Wouldst thou be quiet I'se be glad.Thy mourning makes my sorrow sad;Balow my boy, thy mother's joy.Thy father breeds me great annoy—Balow, la-low!
¶When he began to court my love,And with his sugred words me move,His faynings false and flattering cheerTo me that time did not appear:But now I see most cruellye.He cares ne for my babe nor me—Balow, la-low!"Murderer. "Skillfully.
Balow
¶Lie still, my darling, sleep awhile,And when thou wak'st thou'le sweetly smile:But smile not as thy father did,To cozen maids: nay, God forbid!But yet I fear thou wilt go nearThy father's heart and face to bear—Balow, la-low!
¶I cannot choose but ever willBe loving to thy father still;Where'er he go, where'er he ride,My love with him doth still abide;In weal or woe, where'er he go,My heart shall ne'er depart him fro—Balow, la-low!
¶But do not, do not, pretty mine,To faynings false thy heart incline!Be loyal to thy lover true,And never change her for anew :If good or fair, of her have careFor women's banning's wondrous sare-Balow, la-low!
¶Bairn, by thy face I will beware;Like Sirens' words, I'll come not near;My babe and I together will live;He'll comfort me when cares do grieve.My babe and I right soft will lie,And ne'er respect man's crueltye—Balow, la-low!
¶Farewell, farewell, the falsest youthThat ever kist a woman's mouth!I wish all maids be warn'd by meNever to trust man's curtesye;For if we do but chance to bow,They'll use us then they care not how —Balow, la-low!
The Old Cloak[16th Century (?)]
¶THIS winter's weather it waxeth cold,And frost it freezeth on every hill,And Boreas blows his blast so boldThat all our cattle are like to spill.Bell, my wife, she loves no strife;She said unto me quietlye,Rise up, and save cow Crumbock's life!Man , put thine old cloak about thee!
¶0 Bell my wife, why dost thou flyte ?Thou kens my cloak is very thin:It is so bare and over worn,A cricke thereon cannot renn.Then I'll no longer borrow nor lend;For once I'll new apparell'd be;To-morrow I'll to town and spend;For I'll have anew cloak about me.
¶Cow Crumb o c k is a very good cow:She has been always true to the pail;She has helped us to butter and cheese, IAnd other things she will not fail.I would be loth to see her pine.Good husband, counsel take of me:It is not for us to go so fine—Man , take thine old cloak about thee!
¶My cloak it was a very good cloak,It hath been always true to the wear;But now it is not worth a groat:I have had it four and forty year'.Sometime it was of cloth in grain:' Tis now but a sigh clout, as you may iIt will neither hold out wind nor rain;And I'll have a new cloak about me.[189]She.It is four and forty years agoSine the one of us the other did ken;And we have had, betwixt us two,Of children either nine or ten:We have brought them up to women and men :In the fear of God I trow they be.And why wilt thou thyself misken?Man , take thine old cloak about thee!
¶He.O Bell my wife, why dost thou flyte?Now is now, and then was then:Seek now all the world throughout,Thou kens not clowns from gentlemen:They are clad in black, green, yellow and blue,So far above their own degree.Once in my life I'll take a view;For I'll have anew cloak about me .
¶She.King Stephen was a worthy peer;His breeches cost him but a crown;He held them sixpence all too dear,Therefore he called the tailor 'lown.'He was a king and wore the crown,And thou'se but of a low degree:It's pride that puts this country down :Man , take thy old cloak about thee!
¶He.Bell my wife, she loves not strife,Yet she will lead me, if she can;And to maintain an easy lifeI oft must yield, though I'm good-man.It's not for a man with a woman to threap,Unless he first give o'er the plea:As we began, so will we keep,And I'll take my old cloak about me.
Jolly Good Ale and Old[16th Century]
¶Back and side go bare, go bare,Both hand and foot go cold;But, belly, God send thee good ale enoughWhether it be new or old.
¶But if1 that I may have trulyGood ale my belly full,I shall look like one, by sweet Saint John,Were shorn against the wool.Though I go bare, take ye no care,I am nothing a-cold;I stuff my skin so full withinOf jolly good ale and old.
¶I cannot eat but little meat,My stomach is not good;But sure I think that I could drinkWith him that weareth an hood.Drink is my life; although my wifeSome time do chide and scold,Yet spare I not to ply the potOf jolly good ale and old.
¶I love no roast but a brown toast,Or a crab in the fire;A little bread shall do me stead,Much bread I never desire.Nor frost, nor snow, nor wind, I trow,Can hurt me if it wolde;I am so wrapped within, and lappedWith jolly good ale and old.
¶I care right nought, I take no thoughtFor clothes to keep me warm ;Have I good drink, I surely thinkNothing can do me harm.[191]For truly than I fear no man,Be he never so bold,When I am armed and throughly warmedWith jolly good ale and old.
p. 191¶But now and than I curse and ban.They make their ale so small!God give them care, and evil to fare!They strye^ the malt and all.Such peevish pew,' I tell you true,Not for a crown of goldThere cometh one sip within my lip,Whether it be new or old.
¶Good ale and strong maketh me amongFull jocund and full light,That oft I sleep, and take no keepFrom morning until night.Then start I up and flee to the cup.The right way on I hold;My thirst to stanch I fill my paunchWith jolly good ale and old.
¶And Kit, my wife, that as her lifeLoveth well good ale to seek.Full oft drinketh she that ye may seeThe tears run down her cheek.Then doth she troll to me the bowlAs a good malt-worm should.And say, "Sweetheart, I take my partOf jolly good ale and old."
¶They that do drink till they nod and wink,Even as good fellows should do.They shall not miss to have the blissThat good ale hath brought them to.And all poor souls that scour black bowls.And hath them lustily troU'd,
¶^ Destroy. ^ Wretched stuff.
p. 192¶God save the lives of them and their wives. Whether they be young or old!
¶Back and side, etc.