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The Old Tup, Staveley, Mr.Gascoyne's Version, 1946

I.Gatty (1946) pp.28-29

Context

Location: 
Staveley
SK4375
Time of Occurrence: 
[Not given]
Collective name: 
[Not given]

Source

Author: 
Ivor Gatty
Title: 
The Old Tup and its Ritual
Publication: 
1946, Vo.5, No.1, pp.28-29

Cast

Me and my Owd Lass
1st Speaker
2nd Speaker
3rd Speaker / Butcher
Tup

Text

[Me and my Owd Lass]

Here comes me and my owd lass,
Short of .money, short of brass;
It's money I want, it's money I crave,
If you don't give me money I'll sweep you all to t' grave.

[All?]

[1]

As I was going to Derby
All on a market day,
I met the finest tup, sir,
That ever was fed on hay.
Fay-a-lay, laddigo lay.

[2]

This tup was fat behind, sir,
This tup was fat before,
This tup, was nine feet high, sir,
If not a little more.
Fay-a-lay, etc.

[3]

The horns that grew on this tup's head
They were so mighty high,
That every time it shook its head
They rattled against the sky.
Fay-a-lay, etc.

{Dialogue.}

1st Speaker

Is there a butcher in this town?

2nd Speaker.

Our Bob's a blacksmith.

1st Speaker.

I don't want a blacksmith. I want a butcher.

3rd Speaker.

Well! here I am! I'm a butcher!
Where do you want him sticking? In't 'eard. or in't arse?

1st Speaker.

In't 'eard of course.

3rd Speaker

Well ! I'll stick 'im in't arse then.

{He does so and the tup falls down squealing. Then the butcher sticks him in the head.}

{Song continues.}

[All?]

[4]

The butcher that killed this tup, sir,
Was in danger of his life ;
He was up to his knees in blood, sir,
And prayed for a longer life.
Fay-a-lay. etc.

[5]

And all the men of Derby
Came begging for his eyes,
To makes themselves some footballs of,
For they were football size.
Fay-a-lay, etc.

[6]

And all the women of Derby
Came begging for its ears,
To make their leather aprons of
To last them forty years.
Fay-a-lay, etc.

[7]

And all the ringers of Derby
Came begging for its tail,
To ring St. George's passing bell
From the top of Derby jail.
Fay-a-lay, etc.

[8]

And now my song is ended,
I have no more to say ;
Please give us all a Christmas-box
And we will go away.

Notes

Here comes me and my owd lass,
Short of .money, short of brass;
It's money I want, it's money I crave,
If you don't give me money I'll sweep you all to t' grave.