A new Ballad for you to look on, How Malt doth deal with every one.  
To the tune of, Triumph and joy..  

Mass Malt he is a Gentleman,  
And hath been since the world began,  
I never knew yet any man  
that could match with master Malt sir   

I never knew any match Malt but once,  
The Miller with his grinding stones.  
He laid them so close that he crushed his bones,  
you never knew the like sir.   

Malt, Malt, thou art a flower,  
Thou art beloved in every bower,  
Thou canst not be missing one half hour.  
you never saw the like sir,   

For laying of his stones so close,  
Malt gave the Miiler a copper nose,  
Saying thou and I will never be foes,  
but unto thee I stick sir.   

Malt gave the Miller such a blow,  
That from his horse he fell full low,  
He taught him his master Malt for to know,  
you never saw the like sir.   

Our hostess maid she was to blame,  
She stole master Malt away from her dame,  
And in her belly she hide the same,  
you never saw the like sir,   

So when the Malt did work in her head,  
Twice a day she would be sped,  
At night she could not go to bed,  
nor scarce stand on her feet sir.   

Then came in the master Smith,  
And said that Malt he was a thief.  
But Malt gave him such a dash in the tooth;  
you never saw the like sir,   

For when his Iron was hot and red,  
He had such an ache all in his head,  
The Smith was fain to get him to bed,  
for than he was very sick sir.   

The Carpender came a piece to square,  
He had Malt come out if he dare,  
He would empty his belly, and beat his sides bare  
that he knew not where to sit sir.   

To fire he went with an arm full of chips,  
Malt hit him right between his lips,  
And made him lame in both his hips,  
you never saw the like sir.   

The Shoemaker sitting upon his seat  
With master Malt he began to fret,  
He said he would the knave so beat,  
you never saw the like sir.   

Malt péept his head out of a hall,  
The Shoemaker said, he would drink him up all,  
They tumbled together till down they did fall,  
you never saw the like sir.   

The Weaver being in his loom,  
He threatened master Malt to bum,  
When he had knit on to the thrum,  
you never saw the like sir,   

And such a Court some Weavers held,  
They would pay our Hosts when they had field,  
But when every one had his part and deald,  
they knew not where to sit sir.   

The Tinker he took the Weaver's part  
Because he is touching unto his Art,  
He took the pot and drank a quart,  
the world was very quick sir.   

Malt had of him his own desire,  
He made him tumble into the fire,  
And there he lost his burling ire,  
he hath not found it yet sir.   

The Tailor he came in to grind his shears,  
Malt and he were together by the ears,  
Great is the company Malt still rears,  
you never saw the like sir.   

For when his pressing Iron was hot,  
He pressed a board in stead of a coat,  
And sailed home in a featherbed boat,  
you never saw the like sir,   

So then the Tinker did sound his pan,  
Then said master Malt I must be gone,  
I am the good fellow that helpeth each one,  
you never saw the like sir.   

The Tinker then that he was fain,  
With Malt to have about or twain,  
Malt hit him sore in every vain,  
you never saw the like sir.   

Then bespoke the Tinker anon  
He said he would prove himself a man,  
He laid on Malt till the bousse was gone,  
the Bung and the Tinker fell sick sir.   

The Sailor he did curse and ban,  
He bade the boy, go tap the can,  
I'll have about with Malt anon,  
you never saw the like sir.   

Aboard they want to try their match,  
And there they played at hop and catch,  
Malt bestowed him under the hatch,  
and made him keep the ship sir.   

Then came the Chapman travelling by,  
And said, my masters I will be w'ye,  
In deed master Malt my mouth is dry.  
I will gnaw you with my teeth sir.   

The Chapman he laid on a pace,  
Till store of blood came in his face,  
But Malt brought him in such a case,  
you never saw the like sir.   

The Mason came an Oven to make,  
The Bricklayer he his part did take,  
They bond Malt to the good-ale stake,  
you never saw the like sir.   

Then Malt began to tell his mind,  
And plied them with Ale, Beer and Wine,  
They left Brick, axe and Trowel behind,  
they could not lay a brick sir.   

Then came the Labourer out with his hood,  
And saw his two masters how they stood,  
He took master Malt by the hood,  
and swore he would him strick sir.   

Malt he ran and for fear did weep,  
The Labourer he did skip and leap,  
But Malt cast him into the mortar heap,  
and there he fell asleep sir.   

The Butcher came to buy a sheep:  
He said he would make Malt to creep,  
But Malt made him the cat to whip,  
you never saw the like sir.   

The Glover came to buy a skin,  
Malt hit him right above the chin,  
The pewter john came doubling in,  
you never saw the like sir.   

And laid on head, arms, and joints,  
took away his gloves, and gross of points,  
And swore they had paid him in quarts and pints  
you never saw the like sir.   

Thus of my song I will make an end,  
And pray my hostess to be my friend;  
To give me some drink now my money is spend  
then Malt and I am quite sir.   
FINIS.   

A pleasant new Ballad to sing both Even and Morn, Of the bloody murder of Sir John Barley-corne.  
To the tune of, Shall I lie beyond thee.  
 depiction of a man  

AS I went through the North Country,  
I heard a merry greeting:  
A pleasant toy, and full of joy,  
two noble men were meeting.   

And as they walked for to sport,  
upon a Summer's day,  
Then with another nobleman  
they went to make a fray,   

Whose name was sir john Barley-corne,  
he dwelled down in a dale:  
Who had a kinsman dwelled him nigh,  
they called him Thomas Goodale.   

Another named Richard Beer,  
was ready at that time:  
Another worthy Knight was there,  
called sir William White Wine.   

Some of them fought in a black jacke,  
some of them in a Can:  
But the chiefest in a black pot,  
like a worthy noble man.   

Sir john Barly-corne fought in a Bowl,  
who won the victory:  
And made them all to fume and swear,  
that Barly-corne should die.   

Some said kill him, some said drown,  
others wished to hang him he:  
For as many as fo●low Barly-corne,  
shall surely begggers die.   

Then with a plough they ploughed him up  
and thus they did device,  
To bury him quick within the earth,  
and swore he should not rise.   

With horrowes' strong they combed him  
and burst clods on his head:  
A joyful banquet than was made,  
when Barly-corne was dead.   

He rested still within the earth,  
till rain from skies did fall,  
Then he grew up in branches green,  
which sore amazed them all,   

And so grew up till Midsummer,  
which made them all afeard:  
For he was sprouted up on high,  
and got a goodly beard.   

Then he grew till S. james tide,  
his countenance was wan,  
For he was grown unto his strength,  
and thus became a man.   

With hooks and sickles kéene,  
into the field they hide,  
They cut his legs off by the knees,  
and made him wounds full wide.   

Thus bloodily they cut him down  
from place where he did stand,  
And like a thief for treachery,  
they bond him in a band.   

So then they took him up again,  
according to his kind:  
And packed him up in several stacks,  
to whither with the wind.   

And with a pitchfork that was sharp,  
they rend him to the heart,  
And like a thief for treason vile,  
they bond him in a cart.   

And tending him with weapons strong,  
unto the town they hie,  
And strait they mowed him in a mow  
and there they let him lie.   

Then he lay groaning by the walls,  
till all his wounds were sore,  
At length they took him up again,  
and cast him on the floor.   

They hired two with holly clubs,  
to beat on him at once,  
They thwacked so on Barly-corne,  
that flesh fell from the bones.   

And then they took him up again,  
to fulfil women's mind  
They dusted and they sifted him,  
till he was almost blind.   

And then they knit him in a sack,  
which grieved him full sore:  
They steeped him in a Fat, God wots▪  
for three days space and more.   

Then they took him up again,  
and laid him for to dry,  
They cast him on a chamber floor,  
and swore that he should die.   

They rubbed and they stirred him,  
and still they did him turn.  
The Maltman swore that he should die,  
his body he would burn.   

They spitefully took him up again,  
and threw him on a Kill:  
So dried him there with fire hot,  
and thus they wrought their will.   

Then they brought him to the mill,  
and there they burst his bones,  
The Miller swore to murder him  
betwixt a pair of stones.   

Then they took him up again,  
and served him worse than that,  
For with hot scalding liquor store  
they washed him in a Fat.   

But not content with this God wots.  
that did him much harm,  
With threatening words they promised  
to beat him into barm.   

And lying in this danger deep,  
for fear that he should quarrel,  
They took him strait out of the fat,  
and turned him in a barrel,   

And then they set a tap to him,  
even thus his death begun:  
They drew out every dram of blood,  
whilst any drop would run,   

Some brought jacks upon their backs,  
some brought bill and bow,  
And every man his weapon had,  
Barly-corne to overthrow.   

When sir john Good-ale heard of this,  
he came with much might,  
And there he took their tongues away,  
their legs or else their sight.   

And thus sir john in each respect  
so paid them all their hire,  
That some lay sleeping by the way.  
some tumbling in the mire.   

Some lay groaning by the walls,  
some in the streets down right,  
The best of them did scarcely know  
what they had done o'ernight.   

All you good wives that brew good ale  
God turn from you all teens▪  
But if you put too much water in,  
the devil put out your eyen.   
FINIS.   

London Printed for john Wright, an● are to be sold at his shop in Guilt-spurre street at the sign of the Bible.