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“ How Robin Good-Fellow went in the shape of a

Fidler to a Wedding, and of the sport that he had

there.(From the second part of Robin Good-Fellow, commonly

called Hob Goblin. 4to. 1628.]

To the tune of — Watton Townes end.


I was a country lad,
That fashions strange would see,
And he came to a vaulting schoole,
Where tumblers use to be :
He lik’t his sport so well,
That from it he'd not part
His doxey to him still did cry,
Come busse thine owne sweet heart.

Should passe


They lik’t his gold so well,
That they were both content,
That he that night with his sweet heart,

merry-ment :
To bed they then did goe,
Full well he knew his part,
Where he with words, and eke with deedes,
Did busse his owne sweet heart.

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Long were they not in bed.
But one knockt at the dore,
And said, Up! rise, and let me in:
This vext both knave and whore
He being sore perplext,
From bed did lightly start,
No longer then could he indure
To busse his owne sweet heart.

With tender steps he trod,
To see if he could spye
The man, that did him so molest,
Which he with heavy eye
Had soone beheld, and said,
Alas ! my owne sweet heart
I now doe doubt if ere we busse,
It must be at a cart.

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At last the bawd arose
And opened the dore,
And saw Discretion cloth'd in

Whose office hates a whore :
He mounted up the stayres,
Being cunning in his arte,
With little search, at last he found
My youth and his sweet heart.


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ne indure

“ How Robin Good-Fellow. W

Fidler to a Wedding, and

(From the second part of Rob

called Hob Gob'

• heart.

To the tune of


was a country la
That fashions strans
And he came to a
Where tumblers
He lik’t his spor
That from it h
His doxey to
Come busse

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'n Risborow,

20 yeeres, d of all that d there robbing ew her, and stand

she spat three drops could be washt out, by ecuted for the aforesaid · Brickhill.”

Worthy London Prentice.

passed sins,

doleful story,
vy heart begins :
ickedly I spent my time,
evoid of godly grace,
lewder woman never liv’d,
I think in any place. .


Near Buckingham I dwelled,

And Susan Higges by name,
Well thought of by good gentlemen,

And farmers of good fame;

He having wit at will,
Unto them both did say :
I will not heare them speak one word,
Watch-men with them away;
And cause they lov'd so well,
'Tis pitty they should part:
Away with them to new bride-well,
There busse your owne sweet heart.

His will it was fulfila,
And there they had the law :
And whilst that they did nimbly spin,
The hempe he needs must taw:
He ground, he thump't, he grew
So cunning in his arte,
He learnt the trade of beating hempe,
By bussing his sweet heart,

But yet he still would say,
If I could get release,
To see strange fashions I'le give o're,
And henceforth live in peace,
The towne where I was bred,
And thinke by my desert
To come no more into this place,
For bussing my sweet heart.

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