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This work, Anon : Roger and Sue. A ballad : scoreid 148001, as published by notAmos Performing Editions, is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 4.0 International License. All relevant attributions should state its URL as https://www.notamos.co.uk/detail.php?scoreid=148001. Permissions beyond the scope of this licence may be available at https://www.notamos.co.uk/index.php?sheet=about.
From "Calliope or English Harmony. A Collection of the most celebrated English and Scots songs", London, 1746. The unfigured bass has been realised editorially.
Many of the songs from this collection were probably composed for the London pleasure gardens, particularly Vauxhall. The comedy in this piece derives from a common device of the period: the mis-match of a vulgar subject described in the demotic married with a high art (Italian opera seria) tune, in this instance 'Apenna amor sen nasce' from Hasse's Cleofide.
Many of the songs from this collection were probably composed for the London pleasure gardens, particularly Vauxhall. The comedy in this piece derives from a common device of the period: the mis-match of a vulgar subject described in the demotic married with a high art (Italian opera seria) tune, in this instance 'Apenna amor sen nasce' from Hasse's Cleofide.
Lyrics: Anon
One morn, sweet Sue, a pail or two
Of water drew, in slipshod shoe,
When ice was newly frozen.
When falling from the pump
Slapdash upon her rump,
A great and mighty bump
Swell'd on her buttocks plump.
"It smarts, it burns, it aches by turns
All o'er I'm sore", she loud did moan,
"I ne'er shall more my ware restore,
To charm as it was wont before.
Alas, O cruel cursed destiny,
Would the Devil had the rump for me".
Young Hodge, who worked hard by her,
From pigsty chanced to spy her,
Which raised the clown's desire.
Soon as he heard her rear and yelp,
He ran and offer'd her his help.
"Be gone", she cried, "you saucy whelp,
And leave me. But for this sad disaster
I sure must have a plaister,
Then if you can relieve me,
Oh, straight your cure begin,
O Roger, quick, your salve apply,
Or Sukey soon will faint and die".
One morn, sweet Sue, a pail or two
Of water drew, in slipshod shoe,
When ice was newly frozen.
When falling from the pump
Slapdash upon her rump,
A great and mighty bump
Swell'd on her buttocks plump.
"It smarts, it burns, it aches by turns
All o'er I'm sore", she loud did moan,
"I ne'er shall more my ware restore,
To charm as it was wont before.
Alas, O cruel cursed destiny,
Would the Devil had the rump for me".
Young Hodge, who worked hard by her,
From pigsty chanced to spy her,
Which raised the clown's desire.
Soon as he heard her rear and yelp,
He ran and offer'd her his help.
"Be gone", she cried, "you saucy whelp,
And leave me. But for this sad disaster
I sure must have a plaister,
Then if you can relieve me,
Oh, straight your cure begin,
O Roger, quick, your salve apply,
Or Sukey soon will faint and die".