| A. a, b. |
The Fryer well fitted, or,
A pretty jest that once befell,
How a Maid put a Fryer to cool in the well.
To a merry tune. |
| a. |
London. Printed for F. Coles, T. Vere, and J.
Wright. |
| b. |
Printed for W. Thackeray and T. Passinger. |
| a. |
31,3, 73, 82,3, 91,3,
104, 124. qd. for quoth.
73. qd. he.
82. too't.
83. Oh.
101. did crept.
162. Drooping. |
| b. |
54. my grey.
73. quoth she.
101. fryer crept.
102. on a.
113. sung on.
122. never was.
142. she would.
152. Which from me thou.
162. Dropping. |
| c. |
The variations are insignificant until we
come to 83; from that point this copy
(which is abridged) runs as follows:
| 83. |
'Nay, stay a while, some respite make;
If my master should come he would us take. |
| 9. |
'Alas,' quoth the maid, 'my master doth come!'
'Alas!' quoth the fryer, 'where shall I run?'
'Behind yon cloth run thou,' quoth she,
'For there my master cannot see.' |
| 10. |
Behind the cloth the fryer went,
And was in the well incontinent.
'Alas,' quoth he, 'I'm in the well!'
'No matter,' quoth she, 'if thou wert in hell. |
| 111,2. |
'Thou saidst thou could sing me out of hell,
I prithee sing thy self out of the well.
Sing out,' quoth she, t with all thy might,
Or else thou'rt like to sing there all night.' |
| 113,4. |
The fryer sang out with a pitiful sound,
Oh help me out, or I shall be drownd! |
| 143,4. |
She heard him make such pitiful moan
She hope [ = holp] him out and bid him go home. |
| 123,4. |
Quoth the fryer, I never was servd so before:
'Away,' quoth the wench, 'come here no more.' |
| 161,2. |
The fryer he walkd along the street
As if he had been a new-washd sheep. |
| |
Sing, hey down a derry, and let's be merry,
And from such sin ever keep. |
The fa la burden is not given. |
| B. b. |
Apparently a revised by Kinloch.
42. sing for whistle.
72. then wanting.
101. a wanting.
152. sheet for sheep. |
| c. |
| 1. |
Listen and I will you tell
Wi a falaldirry, falaldirry
How a friar in love wi a lassie fell.
Wi a f alee and latee and a lee-tiddle-tiddle-tee |
| 7. |
The lassie cries, My master comes!
Wi a falaldirry, falaldirry
The friar cries, Where shall I run?
Wi a f alee and latee and a lee-tiddle-tiddle-tee |
| 8. |
'O you'll do you in below this cloth;
Wi a falaldirry, falaldirry
That you be seen I wad be loth.'
Wi a f alee and latee and a lee-tiddle-tiddle-tee |
| 10. |
The friar cries, I 'm in the well!
Wi a falaldirry, falaldirry
'I care na tho you were in hell.
Wi a f alee and latee and a lee-tiddle-tiddle-tee |
| 11. |
'You said you w[a]d sing me out of hell;
Wi a falaldirry, falaldirry
Sing yoursell out o the well.'
Wi a f alee and latee and a lee-tiddle-tiddle-tee |
| 12. |
'If you'll help me out, I will be gone,
Wi a falaldirry, falaldirry
Back to you I'll neuer come.'
Wi a f alee and latee and a lee-tiddle-tiddle-tee |
| |
She helped him out, and he was begone;
Wi a falaldirry, falaldirry
Back to her he never came.
Wi a f alee and latee and a lee-tiddle-tiddle-tee |
| 15. |
The frier he gaed up the street,
Wi a falaldirry, falaldirry
Hanging his lugs like a washen sheet.
Wi a f alee and latee and a lee-tiddle-tiddle-tee |
2-6, 9, 13, 14, wanting. |
