/1_
CENTRE
for
REFORMATION
and
RENAISSANCE
STUDIES
VICTORIA
UNIVERSITY
T O R O N T O
THE
P, OXBURGHE BALLADS.
What ha.st here? Ballads? I love a ballad in print, or a lire, for
then we are sure they are true.
ERE'S one to a very doleful tune, how an usurer's wife was
brought to bed with twenty money bags ata burden ; and how
she long'd to eat adder's heads, and toads Calbonado'd, it is true,
and but a month old. Here's the midwive's nanle to't, one
Mistress Talellorter, and rive or six honest wive t'xat were present, why should
I carry hes abroad ? ttere'» another ballad, of a fish that appear'd upon the
toast, onlVed,eadaj the fourscore of Aril, forty thousand fathom above
water, and sung this ballad against the hard hearts of maids ; it was thought to
be a woman, and was turned into a cold fish, for she would hOt exchange flesh
with one that lov'd her. The ballad is very pitiful, and as tme--five justice
hands at it ; and witnesses» more than my pack will hold.
THE
ROXBURGHE
BALLADS.
EDITED BY
CHARI.,ES HI NDLEY, ES Q.
£'ditor of " .T/te Old Bool ,lleetor's Miseellany : or, a Collection of
l?eadable l?eyrints of Literary l?arities," " ll'orh of John
aylor--the ll'ater-Poet," " Tle Catnacl Press" "
Curiosities of 8treet Literature," " l BI of
eady.made Speeehes," " Nron'n,
dones and Robinson"
etc., etc.»
VOL I.
t96,
LONDON :
REEVES AND TURNER,
STRAND, W.C., AND 185, FLEET STREET, E.C.
873.
INTRODUCTION.
« I knew a very wise man that believcd that, if a man were permitted fo
nmke ail the ballads, he need hot care who should make the laws of a nation."
Andrev Fletclter of Salteun (1653-1716).
.HE Collection of Ancient Songs and Ballads, written on various
- now known as the ROXBURGHE BALLADS, consits of three
large volumes in folio, and embraces above thirteen hundred broadsides
mostly in ],lflt' ]}.l'|lfl', and are, with but few exceptions, ail in a very
good state of preservation. ïhere are several ballad% of whiclx there are
duplicates--and even triplicates, of considerable later dates than the or;ginal
copy ; and into the edition or editions of later date are inserted lines and
stanzas hot round in the older impressions, but inserted by some subsequent
ballad-writer or printer for the purpose of noticing or satirizing a custom or
peculiarity of the day when the reprint was published.
The Collection was commenced by Robert Harley, who was tbe eldest son
of Sir Edward Harley, and was born in 1661, in Bow Street, Covent Garden,
then a fashionable quarter in London.* He was advanced to the peerage of
Great Britain by Queen Arme in 7, as Baron /larley, of Wig-
more, in the County of Hereford. Earl of Oxford, and Earl Mortimer,
and after a busy and chequered political lire, spent the remaining
portion in retirement, associating with scholars and men of faste, and so
bedaine the founder of a large collection of scarce, curious and entertaining
pamphlets and tracts, subsequently collected and published as "The Harleian
Iiscellany." And also of an extensive collection of IISS., which now forms
one of the greatest treasures in the British Museum, and well known to every
loyer of literature as the Harleian Collection of Ianuscripts, a catalogue
which wasarranged and published by H. Wanley, London, 1759-63, folio,
vols., with portraits of Robert and Edward Harley, Earls of Oxford. And
again by H. Wanley and the Rev. R. Nares, as "A Catalogue of the Harleian
*Bow STatUT, built 1637, and so called *' as running in shape of a bent
bow." Strype, who relis us this, adds that "the street is open and large, with
very good.houses, well inhabited, and resorted unto by gentry for lodgings, as
are mo»t of the other streets in this parish." This was in 17o ; and it ceased
to be " well inhabited about rive years afterwards." The Theatre (Covent-
garden Theatre) was built in 173 , and the Bow-street Police-otce, celebrated
in the armais of crime, established in ,749.--Cunnilla*n' Hand-Book of
London, Past and Present.
ii INTIODUCTION.
Collection of MSS. in the British Museum, with Indexes of Persons, Places
and Matters, 8o8-z, folio, 4 vols, at £8 Ss. The indexes, compiled by the
Rev. T. H. Home, are published separately at £z zs.
When the printed books collected by the Earl of Oxford were dispersed,
the Collection of Ballads were bought by James West, President of the Royal
Society. Ai the death of West, his " curious and valuable library" was sold
by auction by Messrs. Langford, "at Mr. West's Dwelling-House, n ing.
treet, Co'ent Garàen, on Monday, the z9th of Match, 1773, and the 23
following days, Sundays excepted." The ballads formed Lot zttz, and are
described in the sale-catalogue as "A curious Collection of Old Ballads, in
umber abore 2oo, b [lack] 1 [etter], with humorous frontispieces, 3 vol."
/vlajor Thomas Pearson was the purchaser of the collection at £zo!! who
had it rebound in Russia leather into two volumes, with printed borders,
indexes, and title pages bearing his monogram, T.P. These titles still remain,
a verbatim copy of which will be round at the commencement of out reprint.
Althougb tbe sale-catalogue of West's library stated tbe number of ballads
to be "ab,ve ,zoo" and Major Pearson had "ruade several additions," yet
the total number included in the 2rinted indexes is but 733, viz., 270 in the
first volume, and 463 in the second--29 pages are left blank. The index to
vol. i. extends to p. 48t, and that of vol. ii. to p. 577--" It is therefore to be
assumed," says Mr. Chappell, the author of Popular Music in the Olden Time,
"that the auctioneer had counted Second Parts, usually printed on the second
page of the broadsides, as separate ballads."
The date on the printed title pages is that of the year after Major Pearson
had acquired the collection. Further additions were ruade, either by him or
by subsequent possessors, to the number of 4 ballads in the first volume, and
6 in the second. The first lines of these are added to the indexes in
manuscript.
The next appearance in public of the collection was at the sale of the
library of "Thoms Pearson, Esq., deceased, in 1788, by T. and J. EGERTON,
Booksellers, at their ROOM in SCOTLAlgD YARD opposite the
on Monday, I4th of Apil and 22 foLlowing days--Sundays excpted." The
ballads were Lot 27xo, and described thus
gTIO ANCIENT SONGS AND ]ALLADS, vritten on ¢ariou subeet#, and
printed betn'eea tlie Yea,' 56o and tTOO.--Cltiefly coZZecfed by
Robert, Earl of Oxford. and 2urel, aed at the ale of the library o.f
James Wes., Esq., in 773--inc'eaed b¥ everal -4ddition#» 2 vol.
bound in 2¢uia leatl, er.
TRODUCTIO. iii
To which the Auctioeers added the following note :--
"N.B.--The prcceding numerous aud matchlcss Cullecion of Old
Ballads are ail printed in 131ack Letter, and decorated with many llundrcd
wooden Prints : they are pasted upon Paper with Borders (printed on purpose)
round each Ballad ; also a printed Title and Index to each Volume. To them
are added the paragraphs which appeared in the public Papers respecting the
above curious Collection at the rime they were purchased at Mr. West's."
It was at this auction that they were purchased for John, Duke of Rox-
hurghe, for f36 4s. 6d. The Duke was remarkable for the magnificent
collection of books which wealth and taste enabled him to form, and to whom
a venerative reference i., made in the name of the Roxhurghe Club.
Grace's library in St. James' Square comprised upward» of ten thouand distinct
articles, the richest department being early English literature. It cost its noble
collector forty years of labour, but probably a moderate sum of money, in com-
parison with what was realized by it when, after his death, it was brought to
the hammer.
At the sale of "The Curious and Eten.,ive Library of the late John,
Duke of Roxburghe," which was presided over by R. H. Evans for 46 days in
,8,, The Ballads are set forth as follows:--Lot
3o A Curiotts Collection of some thousand Ancient 13allads, bound in 3
large Volumes in Folio.--This Collection greatly exceeds the cele-
brated Pepys Collection at Cambridge, and is supposed to be the finest
in England."
The extraordinary advance in the marketable value of ail literary rarities,
and the Duke's "curious and extensive" collection being well-known, attracted
much attention. It was at this celebrated sale that 13occaccio's sDeeamervne,
printed by Valdarfer at Venice in 47, produced the largest sum ever given
for a single volume, riz., f,u6c*.
*The work was purchased, at the above sum by the .Marquis of Blandford,
Earl Spencer being the under bidder at f,5 o. Dr. Dibdin's accourir of the
sale, or as he chooses to call it, the jqht, is in an exaggerative style, and ex-
tremely amusing. Dibdin had afterwards occasion in his "' Remini5cences of a
Literary Life" to make the following addition to the history of this precious
volume :" Of all EXTRAORDINAR¥ RI.'SULTS, what could exceed that of tb.e
Boccaccio of '47', coming eventually into the possession of the for»er noble-
man {Earl Spencer) at a price less than Og-ALV ofthat for which he had
originally contended with the latter, who had become its first purchaser at tbe
above sale ? Such, however, is the FACT. At the sale of the lIarquis of
]31andford's library in ,8, 9, this volume was purchased by the house of Long-
man and Co. for Z'98, it having cost the lIarquis f,6o. It came fromthem
to Lord Spencer at that price, and is now in the beautiful library at Althorpe,
l'qorthamptonshire."
iv ITRODUCTION.
The first portion, or nucleus of the collection of balladsoand with which
the naine of the Duke is nov permanently associated, had been obtalned al a
public auction hventy-four years previous for less than £37--that is the two
volumes, to which the Duke added seven ballads, printed in Edinburgh in
157o , and hd increased the collection by third volume. This thixd volume
is much the largest---containing, as it does, 564 ballads, and far too bulky
for handling--but is hot quite in keeping with the rest. The latter hall of it
indudes many whi'e-letter baIlads, chiefly of the last century, and, in some
cases, so late in the century as to number within it a song by Burns. The
three volumes were bought by Harding, the bookseller, for £447 1Ss., and
were re-sold to the late Benjamin Heywood Bright--second son of Richard
Bright, of Haro Green, near Bristol, and of ColwaI1, in Herefordshire, for
£6oo, 9 who studiously kept them out of sight, heing afraid lest anybody should
even know that he possesse.d them ; but they, as well as a manuscript collec-
tion of Miracle-plays--the possession of which he also for some reason con-
cealed--were necessarily brought to light after his death. 3
Mr. Bright died al Haro Green on the 4th of August, I843, and the first
portion of his "most extensive collection of valuable, rare, and curious book%
in ail classes of literature," was sold by auction y S. Leigh Sotheby and Co.,
Anctioneers of Literary Property and works illustrtive of the Fine Arts, at
their bouse, Wellington Street, Strand. It was altogether a thirty days' sale»
commencing on Monday, March 3, I$45, and continuing at intervals until the
following July.
The three volumes of ballads were :--Lot
296 BALLADS. ,tek MOST EXTENSIVE CURIOUS» AND INTERESTING COLLEC-
TION OF OLD ENGLISH AND SCOTTISH ]ROADSIDE ]ALLAD$ ;
IOMANTIC LEGENDARY ]-ISTORICALj LOCAL, RELIGIOUSs
,MATORY 'UMOROU$ AND CON'VI'VIALj MOSTL'Y PRINTKD IN THE
]LACK LETTER, AND DECORATED ,VITH ,¥OODCUTS 1570-1680
,VITH SOM] FEW OF LATER )ATE» bound in thre¢ volumes, folio :
To which description th¢ Auctioneers appended :--
"This collection was begun by Rob. Harley Earl of Oxford, from whos¢
libraxy it passed successively to thos¢ of [:James] West, Major Pear-
son, and the Duke of Roxburghe, by each of whom il was increased ;
and we bave the highest authority for asserting, that il is th¢ most
extensive in existence ; those in the black letter amounting to nine
hundred in number, exclusive of second parts.
" I love a ballad in print," are the words put by Shakesp¢are into th¢
mouth of one of his characters, and, from his evident fondness for them,
Mr. W. Chappell. 9The Athenoeum (I845.) J. Payne Collier
INTRODUCTION. v
we may infer that he is conveylng his own feelings through the mouth
of the speaker. Another great writer of out own days had an equal
predilection for this species of literature, and has availed himself of
them in the fascinating productions of his pen. The collections of
Percy, Evans, Ritson, Pinkerton, Jamieson, and others, and the
numerous editions that some of them bave passed :hrough, are convin-
cing proof of the favour with which they have been received by the
public. The present collection affords ample materials for a new work,
hot less interesting than any that bave preceded it.
"The extent of the collection precludes out givinga detailed list, and we
can only refer to some of the more interesting, as they have occurred
in a cursory examination of the volumes, classed under the several
heads we have particularised."
After which S. Leigh Sotheby and Co. printed in eæteso the titles of
upwards of three hundred of the ballads, analytically arranged under the
various headings given in their description, occupying more than seven pages
of the catalogue.
The collection was purchased by the lute Thomas Rodd, the eminent
bookseller, for the trustees of the British Museum for £535" A fourth volume
had been added by Mr. Bright, and it formed the following Lot :--
297 B^LLADS. A collection of Eighty-five broadside Ballads, Romantic,
ttistorical, Amatory, and Satirical: the whole of them in 111tI1
|fllfl and ornamented with woodcuts. They are of the rime of
Charles II, and are in the finest possible condition :--
True love requited ; or the bayliff's
daughter of Islington.
Flora's departure.
The young man's labour lost.
A strange apparition.
TheChristian Conquest ; overthrow
of the Turks.
The Virgin Race, or Yorkshire's
glory.
News for young men and maids.
Poor Tom the taylor, his lamen-
tation.
Love's unspeakable passion.
The Depfford fxolic.
Tyrarmick love.
The ballad of the cloak.
The Suffolk miracle.
Advice fo batchelors.
A farewel to Graves-end.
Unfortunate jockey.
Colonel Sidney's overthrow.
Cupid's delight.
The confined loyer.
The disdainful virgin led captive.
The love-sick maid of Portsmouth
Wavering Nat and kind Susan.
The seaman's sorrowful bride.
Coy Jenn 7.
] NTRODIIçT I« »X.
The teaman's adieu.
The seaman's renown.
Tlxe gallant seaman's renown.
The pope's pedigree.
The Shoemaker's delight.
Love's better than gold.
The fair and loyal maid of Bristow.
Courageous Jemmy's resolution.
The truc lover's tragedy.
Two-penny-worth of wit for a penny.
A carrouse to the emperour.
The hasty wedding.
The countryman's delight.
The Oxford lxealtlx.
The doubting virgin.
The doubting virgin's satisfaction
The more haste the worsc speed.
Jealous Nanno.
The good fellow's consideration.
The jovial beggar's merry crew.
Olimpya's unfortunate love.
The vanity of vain glory.
The maid's unhappinesse.
The musical shepherdess.
The matchless murder (of Thomas
Thinn, Esq,
Love and constancy.
The good felIows frolick.
The merry boys of Christmas.
The lire and death of George of
Oxford.
Gallantry ail-a-mode, or the bully to
the lire.
The three worthy butchers of the
north.
Jem's lamentation.
The courtier's health.
London's wonder in the breaking o!
this mighty.frost.
Sir Thomas Armstrong's fare-ell.
The Scotch wooing.
The mournful shepherd.
Young Jenny, or the princely shep-
herd.
The dothier's ddiglxt.
The Algier-slave's rdeasement.
The Benjamin's lamentation.
Repentance too late.
The two faithfull lover.
The power and pleasure of love.
The dumb maid, or the young gal-
lant traplann'd.
Tom Tell-Truth.
England's gentle admonition.
The dying lover's compla'mt.
The country innocence.
The love-sick maid quickly reviv'd.
Truc love rewartted with cruelty.
Content, a treasure.
Love's lamentable tragedy.
The merry boys of Europe.
An antidote of rare physicke.
The king of good fellows.
A match at a venture.
Jocky's lamentation turn'd into joy
The bad husband's foIly.
"Lot 297" was also bought for tlxe trustees of the British Museum by
Mr. Rodd for :25 Ss. The remaining lots in connection with Ballads were as
under, which we reprint v¢rbatim from the Catalogue, togetler with the
names of the purchasers and the prices realized :
298 BALLADS. The Seaman's folly--The Iove-sick Maid--A most excellent
song of the love of younq Palinus and fair Sheldra, all t]lacI
INTRODUCTION.
299 ]3XLXS. .An excellent Ba]lad, intitu]ed The constancy of Susanna.
7is the ballad of'hicl some lines are sug by ,Sir 7bby telel
in Tn'elftk Aïght.mThe lamentable tragieal History of Titus
Andronicus, botk [If l:tt:l: :--Rodd, ios.
300 B^LL^DS. A Friend's Advice, [l[I[ [f|[fl, circa 165o--The Loyal
Torie's delight, cith mvsîcwVienna's Triumphs, vith music, 1683
mThe Scotch Lasses Constancy, witk the music, 682 ; and five
me :Rd, 16s.
3o BALAS, GaxDS, &c. The Aming GadandThe Crafty Loyer,
or a Windsor Miser OutwittedJokes of John Falkirk--The Derby-
sbire Tragedy--e Horn-fair GarlandThe Northumberland
GarldPortsmouth Jack's GarlandThe Unnatur Father, an
account of Theophilus Mkali, of Doetshiree Worcestershire
GarlandThe Winchester GarlandRelation of a Melaid that was
seen and spoke with on the Black Rock, nigh Liverpool, by John
Robinson ; with upwards of seventy other popular Songs, Stofies,
and Glands :Pocock, £3 9s.
3o2 Ballads, Broaid, Slip-songs, &c., a parcel, moderg :Sir F. Madden,
3o3 Ballads. A edlection of Old Ballads, coected om the best and most
ancient copi extt, illustratoe th copper plat, red oroeeo,
ilted, 3 vol :Rodd, £3 3s.
3o4 Evs {Thos.) Old Bang by R. H. Evans, best edition, 4 vol.
etra :Pocock, £ 6s. 8o
"On the rarity of the Ballads in th collection, it is" {says J. P. Cdlier)
"supeuous to enlarge ; in many instances the broadsid are ique : no
duplioetes of them are to be met with in public or private libres ; d it is
easy to accourir for th circumstance, if we reflect that they were seldom
printed in a form ca1lated for preseation. Thom Deloney and Richard
Johnson were almost the only ballad-writers of that e, who subsequently
broht tother their scattered broadsides in small volumes, while hundoeds
of sihr pieces by other popular authors were allowed to perish. The more
generally acceptable a ballad oeme, the more it was exposoe to the danger
of destction."
e consequence h been that ve few BallaO, they oeme from
the hands of those who may be calloe out elder printe, have dcded to
our day ; and my of the best in the collection would have been irretevably
lost but that the constant demd for them induced typoaphers in the i
viii
of J'ames and Charles, in particular, to re-publish them. The year, whether
of impression or re-impressson, is very rardy given on a broadside, but it is
usually known between what dates the printers, whose names are appended,
carried on business, and from thence we are generally able to'fonn a judgment
as to the age of productions of their presses. The rimes when reprinted
Ballads were first composed and issued mu»t often be matter of mere con-
jecture, depending much upon internal evidence, and even this is rendered
more uncertain by interpolations, not unfrequently ruade in order that the
work should be more wdcome to auditors of the period of republication.
Although the library of the British Museum contains a much larger number
of broadside ballads than any other of the public libraries, yet the Roxburghe
collection, taken alone, is but second in extent to the collection known by the
naine of Samuel Pepys, the diarist, which is in the library of Magdalene
College, Cambridge. The latter is in rive volumes, containing 1,$oe ballads,
of which 1376 are in t)[l£l [t|[t'l. This famed collection was commenced
by the learned Selden.
John Selden died 1654, and Pepys continued collecting till near the time
ot his death in 17o 3, which fact he records on the trie page of his volumes
thus--"/y collection of "Ballads » (following the words with an engraved
portrait of himself) "Begun by Mr. Selden : Improved by ye addition of many
Pieces elder thereto in Time, and the whole continued down to the year 177o,
when the Form, till then peculiar thereto, riz., of the Black Letter with
Pictures seems (for cheapness sake) wholly laid aside, for that of White Letter
without Pictures."
Besides the ballads, Pepys left to the Magdalene Coilege an invaluable
collection of manuscript naval memoirs, of prints, ancient English poetry, and
three volumes of « Penny/1erriments." These amount in number to 11z, and
some of them are ïarlands, that contain many ballads in each.
The followingare Pepys' directions for the disposition of his library--taken
from M,S., //arl, «Vo. 7,o3h which we deem of sufficient general interest to
print in eoetenso :
'" For the further settlement and preservation o! my said library, afier the
death of my nephew, John Jackson, I do hereby declare,--
"That could I be sure of a constant succession of heirs from my said
nephew, qualified like himself for the use of such a library, I should hot
entertain a thought of its ever being alienated from them. But this uncertainty
considered, with the infinite pains, and time, and cost, employed in my
collecting, methodising, and redudng the same to the state it now is, I cann
1 :,"/'IODUCT [ON. ix
but be great]y solicitous that ail possible provision should be ruade for ils
unalterable preservation and prepetual security against the ordinary rate of
such collections, falling into the hand» of an incompetent heir, and thereby
being sold, dissipated, or embezzled, and since it has pleased God to visit
me in a manner that leaves little alpearance of being myself restored to a
condition of concerting the necessary measures for attaining these ends, I
must and do with great confidence rely upon the sincerity and direction of
my executor and said nephew, for putting in execution the powers g;ven them,
by my forem¢ntion¢d will r¢lating hereto, requiring that the saine be brought
to a d=termiuation in twelve months rime after my decca»e, and that special
regard be had thcr¢in to the following particulars, which I declare to be my
prescrit thoughts and prevailing inclination» in this marrer, riz. :
" t. That afier the dcath bf my said nephew, my said library be placcd and
for evcr settled in one of out universities, and rather in that of Cambidge
than Oxford.
"2. And rather in a private college there, than in the public library.
"3- And in the colleges of Trinity or Magdalen preferably to ail others.
"4. And of these two, eeteri, paribu,, rather in the_latter, for the sake
of my own and nephew's education therein.
"5- That in ss hich soever of the two it is, a fait roome be provided therein
on purpose for it, and wholly and solely appropriated thereto.
"6. And if in Trinity, that the said roome be contiguous to, and have
communication with, the new library there.
" 7. And if in Magdalen, that it be in the new building there, and any
part thereof, at my nephew's election.
"8. That my said library be continued in its present form» and no other
books mixed therein, save what my nephew may add to them of his own
collecting, in distinct presses.
"9- That the said room and books so.placed and adjusted be called by the
name of .Bibliotleca Pe, pviana.
" Io. That this .Bibl,oteca .Pe, pl/,iamz be under the sole power and
custod 7 of the ma»ter of the college for the rime being, who »hall neither
himself convey, nor surfer to be conveyed by others, any o[ the said books from
thence to any other place, except to his own lodge in the said college, nor
there bave more than ten of them at a rime ; and that of those also a strict
entry be made, and account kept, of the time of their having been taken out
and returned in a book to be providcd, and remain in thc said librar for that
INTRODUCTION.
*' 1 l. That belote my said library be put into the possession of either of
the said colleges, that eollege for which it shall be designed, first enter into
eonvenants for performance of the foregoing articles.
°" z. And that for a yet further security herein, the said two colleges of
Trinity and Magdalen have a reciprocal check upon one another ; and that
eollege which shall be in prescrit possession of the said library, be subject to
an annual visitation trom the other, and to the forfeiture thereof to the life,
possession, and use of the other, upon conviction of any breach of their said
covenants.
We print the following notices of the Roxburghe Ballads from
.t«noemof August z3rd and 3oth, 845
"We are about to give some account of the contents of the three folio
volumes of Ballads soldat the Duke of Roxburghe's sale for £4oo, bought
privately by Mr. Bright, we believe, for £6oo, and purchased for the British
Museum a few months ago, at the price of £535- The collection is hot yet
accessible to the readers at that institution, but they will probably ere long be
enabled to refer toit ; and, in the meantime, extracts from, with remarks and
criticisms upon the principal productions in it, may hot be unacceptable.
the whole there are hot fewer than twelve hundred separate pieces of popular
poetry, including only a small nuraber of duplicates ; of many of them no
other copies exist» and..the rest are of the ntmost rarity. Nealy al1 are in
black letter.
" There are only three great collections of old ballads in the empire : that
of the late Mr. Heber was a fourth, but it was dispersed at the auction of his
books, as it was wisely thought that nobody would buy it entire ; the different
productions were therefore divided into lots, according to their subjects, and
the whole sold for much more than would otherwise have been realized. In
the instance immediately before us the same course ought, perhaps, to have
been pursued, for the sake of the estate ; Mr. Bright's ballads might then have
yielded to the executors at least one-third more money than they produced.
In Mr. Heb.r's sale lots of ten or fifteen ballads were soldat from
each lot ; whereas itis evident that the ballads at Mr. Bright's auction on the
average did hot bring ten shillings a-piece : about twelve hundred ballads
were, as we have said, knocked down for £535- The purchase, therefore, on
account of the British Museum, was an admirable one, and our great national
London library now contains a larger assemblage of ballads than is tobe found
at Oxford. or Cambridge. We are to be understood here as speaking of mere
bros4sid¢s : Oxford bas rater poeti¢al tracts» Carabridge a more valuable s¢ri¢
T NTgODUC'IIoN.
of penny histories ; but bi what arc properly tcrm:d broad»Me ballads neither
of them can at this tlme compete with the British Museum. "
"The private collections in this kingdom of such pieces are hardly to be
named : there are only three which deserve any notice, and two ofthese belong
to persons 'ho are just as unwilling to let them sec the light as the third is
ready upon all occasions to make whatever he may possess useful, by rendering
it accessible. The contrast is as remarkable as it is advantageous : tbe two
first may be somewhat ashamed of the smallness of their acquisitions in this
dcpartment, consldering their opportunitie% and I,y keeping up a sort of
mystery may lead those who know little of the marrer to suppose that a few
scattered specimens are a connected and valuable series.
°' The reasons why productions of this class are scarce are very obvious.
'Gtri *etere reru» ,chi ,unt? exclaims Cicero ; and Mr. Macaulay, in the
preface to his ' Lays of Ancient Rome,' has incontestibly shown--first, that
there must have been old Latin ballads ; and secondly, that they had ail been
lost by the age of Augustus. With us the case is almost as bad: the songs
that our minstrels used fo accompany on the harp have neafly ail perished,
and even of those which out ballad-singers, two or three hundred years ago,
were accu, tomed to chant in out streets and higlways, comparatively few
remain : many must bave been lost, to one that bas corne down to us. One
of the earliest traces of what may properly be ¢alled ballad-singing is to be
found in a letter dated in i537, when an itinerant musician with ' a crowd or a
fiddle' gave offence by a ' Hunt is up,' in which he satirically handled the Duke
of Igorfolk and the Earls of Surrey and Shrewsbury, as well as some dignitaries
of the Church :--
"The hunt is up, the hunt is up, &c.
The Masters of Art and Doctors of Divinity
Have brought this realm out of good unity.
Three noblemen hxve take this to stay
My Lord of Norfolk, Lord of Surray,
And my Lord of Shrewsbur :
The Duke of Suffolk might bave ruade England merry.
«, This relic was unknown to ail the ¢ollectors of materials for the history of
our popular literature, and is derived from the original information against
John Hogan, the political ballad-singer» preserved in the 1Rolls CbapeL
"There is probably nothing as old as this in the three volumes known as
the 1Roxburghe Collection ; but it is often very difficult to decide on the date
of particular pieces. It sometlmes happens that a song, existing only in an
impression as recent as the time of Charles II., is really as old as the reign of
lizabeth and ma' be proved to b¢ so from internal evidence. The fach no
xii ] NTRODUC l iN.
doubt, was, that the ballad was frequently reprinted on accourir of its popu-
larity, and that ail the older editions have been lost. At other rimes we bave
editions in regnlar succession: for instance, a capital 2Esopian apologne of
' The Lark and her Family' was, as far as we know, first printed in 1563, with
the naine of the versifyer, Arthur Bourcher, at the end ; but we are acquainted
with copies ofit in I571, 579, 586, I6°3, 624, and we find it also in one of
the Roxburghe volumes, without date, but the type affording clear proof that it
came from the press while Charles I1., or perhaps even his successor, was on
the throne. This, however, is a cae of rare occmrence : of very few ballads
so many and such ancient impressions are known, and we are frequ¢ntly mo»t
glad to content ourselves with af. edition of a broadside between 166o and
169o, which was originally, perhaps, a full century older.
"We may farther illustrate this point by reference to a popular poem on a
subject which produced a volume from the learned Mr. Douce» but of which
poem he was entirely ignorant. It bears the title of ' Death's Dance ;' and it
purports to bave been ' Printed at London by H. Gosson,' who sueceeded his
father» Thomas Gosson» as a publisher of many ephemeral productions. Mr.
Douce, had he lived till now, would bave grieved bitterly at the omission of
this satirical ballad in his book ; and had not the late Mr. Bright been so char,/
of his three volumes, and so afraid lest anybody should even know that he
possessed them, Mr. Douce's ' Dissertation on the Dance of Death' would hot
bave been left thus incomplete. Our reason for mentioning this ballad
because it is unquestionably much more ancient than the time {about 164o }
when the undated impression was published by Henry Gosson : it is one of
many pieces of the kind which must bave been written considerably more than
fifty years before the period of the sole existing copy in the Roxburghe Collec-
tion. It opens as follows :m
'° If Death would corne to shew his face
as he dare shew his powre,
And sit at every rich man's places
both every day and howre,
He would amaze them every one
to see him standing there,
And wish that soone he would be gone
from ail their dwellings faire.
" Or il that Death would take the paines
to goe to the water-side,
Where merchants purchase golden gaines
to pranke them up in pride ;
And bid them thinke upon the poore,
or else ' Ile sec you soone,'
There would be given then at their door¢
good altos both night and noone,
NTRODUCTION. xiii
"Afterwards the writer (vhose naine is unrecorded) supposes Death to
visit the Exchange, Westminster Hall, St. Paul's, various "tippling houses,"
gaming houses, &c., giving some curious and amusing touches at the manners
of the rime ; but he is particularly severe upon persons in trade :--
" If Death would take his dayly course
where tradesmen sell their ware,
I|is welcome, sure, would be more worse
than those of monyes bure :
It would affright them for to sec
his leane and hollow lookes,
If Death would say, ' Corne, shew to me
my reckoning in your bookes.'
"If Death would through the markets trace,
where Conscience us'd to dwell,
And take but there a huckster's place,
he might do wondrous well :
High prices would abated be,
and nothing round too deare ;
When Death should call ' Corne buy of me !"
'twould put them ail in feare.
"Just afterwards we meet with the subsequent stmaza :
"Il Death would prove a gentleman,
and corne to court our dames,
And do the best of all he c.an
to blazen forth their names ;
Yet should he little welcome have
amongst so fayre a crew,
That daily go so fine and brave,
when they his face do view.
«« Thomas Gosson (the predecessor in business, of H. Gosson, for whom
this broadside waz printed,) waz probably brother to Stephen Gosson, the
puritanical enemy of dramatic performances, whb published his ' School oi r
Abuse,' in which he attacked them, in 1579. In 1595, he printed anony-
mously a small tract, in verse, called ' Pleasant Quips for Upstart New-fangled
Gentlewomen,' and he waz indisputably a very clever and powerful writer.
We are without any external evidence, but we feel persuaded that this ballad
of ' Death's Dance' waz by him, written before the close of the reign of
Elizabeth, and originally printed by Thomas Gosson. The only existing
impression for H. Gosson was indisputably a reprint. It ends with this warn-
ing :--
" For Death hath promised to corne,
and corne he will indeed ;
Therefore, I warne you, ail and some,
beware and take good heed ;
xiv INTiODUCTION.
For what ou do, or what you be,
hee's sure to find and know you ;
Though he be blind and cannot see,
in earth he will bestow you.
"Orthography is, o! coure, no test of the age of a reprinted Ballad,
because, in reprinting it, the compositor sometimes used the old spelling of the
copy before him, and sometimes the improved (so to call it) spelling of
own day.
"It now and then happens that the period when a Ballad was w-ritten and
printed can be distinctly ascertained from evidence supplied by itself. Such is
the case with another production on the ' Dance of Death,' in the Roxburghe
Collection ; it bas no printer's name, but merely the word Finis at the close ;
and fhe title it bears is, ' The doleful Dance and Song of Death ; intituled
Dance after my Pipe.' It opens thus singularly
"Can you dance the shaking of the sheets,
A dance that every one must do ?
Can you trim it up with dainty sweets,
And everything that 'longs thereto ?
Make ready then your winding sheet,
And see how you can bestir your feet,
For Death is the man that al1 must meet.
Here is nothing to fix the date ; but the stanza we are about to quote shows
that, although reprinted perhaps fifty or sixty years after it first came out, if
must have been originally published as early as 1577 or 1"578. Death speaks :
"Think you on the solemn 'Sizes past,
How suddenly in Oxfordshire
I came, and ruade the Judges al1 agast,
And justices that did appear ;
And took both Bell and Baram away,
And many a worthy man that day,
And all their bodies brought to clay.
" Stow's ' Annals' (edit. 16o 5, p. 1154), under date of 4th, 5th, and 6th
July, 1577, contains an account of these ' solemn Assizes' at Oxford, when,
among many others, Chief Baron Bell and Serjeant Baram died of the jail-
fever, brought by infected prisoners into the court. This is a curious point,
although the ballad itself is of little or no poetical value.
°' In another remark, respecting the true age of particular ballads, we
shall be fully borne out by the three folios now in the lV[useum. There are
several ballads, of which there are duplicates, if hot triplicates, of considerably
later dates than the original copy ; and into which alterations have been in-
troduced to suit the circumstances and requirements of the day when the re-
print was published. W¢ may select one proof of thi assertion from a
INTRODUCTIOI.
humourous and pungent broadside, called ' The Map of Mock-beggar Hall,
of which there are two copies in the collection, one considerably older than
the other. It commences, and is continued, in the subsequent strain :--
"I reade in ancient times of yore,
That men of worthy calling
]uilt almes houses and spittles store,
Which now are ail dow falling ;
And few men seeke them to repaire,
Nor is there one among twenty.
That in good deeds will take any care,
While Mock-begga" ttall 8tands em2oty.
The la.st line is the burden of the song, and is repeated af the end of every
staff, although the author nowhere explains preeisely what .he means by ' Mock-
beggar Hall.' It seems fo bave reference fo some lost production of the saine
kind, in whieh it was introdueed and eelebrated. The following stanza is now
in the later of the two copies, and satirieally refers fo the then modern practiee
of riding in coaches :--
"bfethinks if is a great reproaeh
To those that are nobly descended,
Who for their pleasures eannot have a coach,
Wherewith they might be attended,
But every beggarly Jaeke and Gill,
That eat searee a good meal in twenty,
Must through the streets be jolted still,
lVhile Mock-be##a" ttall stand emptt.
Another stanza, hot entirely new, but with some important changes from the
older eopy (to which we shall advert presently), is thus :--
«, There's some are rattled through the streets,
Procatum est, I tell if,
Whose names are wrapt in parehment sheets ;
If grieves my heart fo spell it :
They are hot able two men to keepe,
With a coaehman the 7 must content be,
Whieh af playbouse doores in lais box lies asleep,
While Moch-be##ar Hall stands emflty.
Out iast two quotations are from the eopy of ' The Map of Mock-beggar Hall,'
which was ' printed at London for Richard Harper, neere fo the Hospitall gate
in Smithfield,' which is the most modern of the two by perhaps thirty or forty
years, for neither broadside bas any distinct date. We know that about 163o ,
or a little later, the eustom of riding to theatres on horseback was generally
abandoned in favour ofbeingdriven there in coaehes, so mueh so that the Lord
Mayor of London and the Court were called upon fo interfere to prevent the
stoppage of the streets. To this public inconvenience the most recent cop7
xvi INTRODUCTION.
of the ballad makes aPusion, and on this account we may fix its date about
x635. The more ancient copy was probably printed quite early inthe reign
of James I. ; but in out memorandum we have omitted to note by whom
it was published, though we are confident that it was without any date of
the year. On this account, it does hot at ail follow, that because ballads con-
tain temporary allusions, they were hot older than such allusions. Thus, in a
cotait ballad, "printed at London for G. H." i.e., Henry Gosson, entifled
There's lothing tobe had without Money,' we [meet with the following
stanzas :--
All parts of London I have tride,
Where merchants' wares are plenty,
The PoyaI Exchange and faire Cheapside,
With speeches fine and dainty,
To bring me in for to behold
Their shops of silver and of gold ;
There might I chuse what wares I would,
ut God a mercy, penny.
For my contentment once day
I walk'd for recreation
Through Pauls, Ludgate and Fleet-street gay,
To raise an elevation.
Sometimes my humour is to range
To Temple, Strand, and New Exchange,
To see their fashions rare and strange ;
But God a merc.¥, penny.
It is quite certain, therefore, that this last part of the staza was written fter
the death of Elizabeth ; but there are other copies (hot in the Roxburghe
volumes, but in private hands) of the saine ballad that bave no allusion to the
lIew Exchange. One of them gives the last three lines as follo,s :--
Sometimes my humour is to land
From boat at Temple or the Strand,
To see the sights on every hand.
Another in these terres :--
Sometimes my humour is to go
To Temple, Strand, or Pimlico,
To drink good ale or Charnico.
To find ballad in three several states, with changes adapted to different
periods, is unusual , but by no means unprecedented ; and it is a circumstance
upon which nobody, who bas written on the subject of our early popular.
poetry, bas remarked. The burden of the ballad will remind the reader of
the song ' Gmmercy, mine own Purse,' attributed to Dame Juliana Berners»
and inserted in Ritson's ' Ancient Songs,' Vol. II. edit. x829.
There is a fine old satirical broadside in the Collection now deposited in
the I¢iuseum, of which, if we mistake hOt, there is an erlier (and perhaps
better) copy in the Pepysian Librar F at Cambridge ; but an introduction to
INTRODUCTION. xvii
that edifice is so dictdt to be obtained, and the mcans of examination, fo
those who are admitted, so insufficient, that we cannot pretend fo speak posi-
tively.* Sure we are that what is contained in the Roxburghe volumes must be
in some respects a modernization ; but be it so or hot, itis a severe rebuke to
ail who formerly neglected Christmas hospitality and charity. If is entitled
' Christmas Lamentation for the Losse of his Acquaintance, showing how he is
forst to leave the Country, and come to London.' Itis in a very peculiar, but
striking measure, and is said to be sung "to the tune of Now Spring is corne."
The second stanza is thus forcibly written :--
Christmas bread and beefe is turned into stones,
Into stones, into stones, into stones,
And silken rags ;
And Ladye Money sleepes and makes moanes,
And makes moanes, and raakes moanes, and makes moanes,
In miser's bags.
I11 bouses where pleasures once did abound,
Nought but a dogge and a shepherd is found,
Welladay !
Places where Christmas revels did keepe,
Are now become habitations for sheepe,
Welladay, welladay, welladay !
Where should I stay ?
There can be little doubt that the next stanza was interpolated in the early
part of the reign of James I., from the mention it contains of yellow starch
then so much in fashion, though it had been used earlier: we apprehend
that it will be round, in its more ancient state, in the copy Pepys bequeathed.
Since pride came up with yellow starch,
.'ellow starch, yellow starch, yellow starch,
Poore folkes doe want,
And nothing the rich man will to them give,
To them give, to t.hem give, to them give,
But doe them taunt.
For charity from the country is fled,
And in her place bath nought left but need»
Welladay I
And corne is growne to so high a price,
It makes poore men cry with weeping eyes,
Welladay, welladay, welladay !
Where should I stay ?
The copy we have used purports to bave been "printed at London for F.
C., dwelling in the Old Bayly," F. C. being the initiais of Francis Coules, who
was a comparatively modern publisher.
We have reason to think that ' Poor Robin's Dream,' commonly called
Poor Charity, is one of the most ancient ballads in the whole of the three Rox-
*This was in x845 : in x873 we may add :--and so daran'd uncivil as hot
to answer a leRer writtea in reference to the Pepyiau Collection.
xviii INTRODUCTION.
burghe volmnes: it is of a moral character, and brings Time, Conscience,
Plain-dealing, Dissimulation, Charity, Truth, and some other abstract and
allegorical persons to figure on a stage, something in the manner of the moral
plays or moralities which succeede,l the old scriptural dramas, and preceded
plays founded upon lire and history. Poor Robin, dreaming, fancies that he
ecs a stage set up and pulled down exactly in the way in which, at a remote
period, it used to be temporarily erected and removed, xvhether in an open
space in a town, or in an inn-yard : on this stage, the stage of life, he sees
various characters perform, and the first he mentions is Time, who is described,
no doubt, very much as he was exhibited in Shakspeaee's ' Winter's Tale,' and
in the play.in which, according to Henslowe's Diary (Shakespeare Society's
impression, p. 67), he was introduced in the year 16oo :--
" The first that acted, I protest,
,Vas Time, with a glass and a scithe in his hand,
With the globe of the wodd upon his breast,
To show that the same he could command :
There's a time for to work, and a time for to play,
A time to borrow, and a time to pay.
And a time that doth ca.Il us ail away.
Conscieuee, who next enters, is thus spoken of :--
" Conscience in order takes his place,
And very gallantly plays his part ;
Ite fears hot to fly in a ruler's face,
Although it cuts him to the heart :
Ile tells them ail this is the latter age,
Which put the actors in such a rage,
That they kick'd poor Conscience off the stage.
Dissimulation and Charity are introduced in the following manner :--
" Dissimulation mounted the stage,
But he was cloathed in gallant attire :
He was acquainted with Youth and Age ;
Many his company did desire.
They entertained him in their very breast :
There he could bave harbour and quietly rest,
For dissemblers and turn-coats fare the best.
Then cometh in poor Charity :
Methinks she looketh wondrous old ;
.'qhe quiver'd and she quak'd most piteously,
It griev'd me to think she was grown so cdd.
.'qhe had been in the city and in the country,
Amongt the lawyers and nobility ;
13ut there was no room for poor Charity.
" The impression from which our extracts are taket is obviously a com-
paratively modem one, and pro'ports to bave been " Printed by J. Lock, for .
j. Clank, at the Harp and Bible in West Smithfi¢ld." There is no date of
INTRODUCTION. xix
the year, but the reprint must have been made towards the close of the
seventeenth century, and we may safely conclude that the ballad was
originally produced considerably more than a century before.
"Here we pause for the present, but we shall continue the subject next
week, with some ballads hitherto unknown, and illustrative of songs in
' XValton's Angler.'"
"We continue out notice of the three folio volumes of ballads now most
appropriately deposited in the British Museum, the great national receptacle of
our national literature, of which early pieces of popular poetry form so essential
and distinctive a part. If it be not always as positively good as might be
desired, we ought to recollect for whom it was written ; productions of the
kind were the vehlcles of the opinions of the mass of the people upon the
topics of the day : they are so even in our osvn time, and were much more so
among out ancestors before the invention of newspapers ; and, as has been sald
by a great authority, ' they contain more real history, as far as the multitude is
concerned, than ail our annals, which treat of kings, princes and nobles.'
]]allads may be but 'straws to show which svay the wind blows,' to use
Selden's expression, but they show it in its under-currents xvith more truth than
the lofty vanes placed far above the level of popular influences. If we could,
with any degree of precision, settle the dates of the various compositions in the
Ioxburghe collection (and it may possibly be done hereafter by a patient ex-
amination, which we cannot pretend to have bestoxved upon them), we should
possess more valuable materials for a history of national opinions, prejudices,
and manners, for about 2o0 years, than we c.an hope to derive fl'om any other
source. Therefore, if some people fancy that old ballads ought to contain
what they are pleased to consider good poetry, and that their contents are
interesting and important on no other account, they commit a gross mistake :
good poetry, in the best sense of the words, must generally be thrown away
upon the class to which ballads are addressed. They must always be looked
at with reference :o the period when they were xvritten : out oldest specimerrs
were adapted to a state of society in which strong thoughts and natural feelings
predominated» because the modes and habits of artificial lire were not under-
stood and introduced ; but the great majority of the twelve hundred pieces in
the volumes under ¢onsideration were ¢omposed at a much later date, and not a
few of them were the amusement of the lower orders, at a time when men like
Sidney, Spenser, IOaniel, and Drayton, were writing for the higher orders.
These present rather a contrast to the refinements of style then prevailing ;
and, coming down to the period of the Civil Wars, when theatres were closed
and other amu»emcnts for the multitude either entirely put down or grievousl),
xx INTRODUCTION.
curtailed, we shall find such ballad-makers as Martin Parker, Lawrence Price,
Richard Climsell, Robert Guy, John Wade, and a few more, almost daily en-
deavouring to provide welcome food for the appetite of the mob. The naine
of Martin Parker wil] be familiar to many readers of the class of productions
to which xve are referring : they may also be in some degree acquainted with
that of Lawrence Price ; but Climsell, Guy, and Wade have been hitherto un-
known contributors to our ballad-poetry.
"Two ballads, by Martin Parker, both in the Roxburghe collection,
materially illustrate a portion of that charming book, which can never be too
much illustrated, ' Walton's Angler.' lobody can have forgotten the three
songs in Chapter IV. of that work, one by Marloxve, another imputed, probably
correctly, to Raleigh, and the third anonymous : the last is thus introduced by
the Milkmaid's mother :--
" ' But stay, honest anglers ; for I will make Maudlin sing to you one short
song more.--Maudlin, sing that song that you sung last night, when young
Coridon, the shepherd, played so purely on his oaten pipe to j, ou and yom"
cousin Betty.'
" ' Matd.--I will, mother.'
And then she sings as follows :--
" I married a wife of late,
The more's my unhappy fate :
I married her for love,
As my fancy did me move,
And not for a xvordly estate.
But oh ! the green sickness
Soon changed her likeness,
And ail her beauty did rail.
But 'tis not so
XVith those that go
Through frost and snow,
As all men knoxv,
Aad carry the milking-pail.
"In notre of the innumerable editions of ' Walton's Angler' has anybody
attempted to trace the origin or author of this song ; and as long as Mr. Bright
had the custody of the Roxburghe Ballads it would probably have remained
unknown : he does not seem to have heen aware of it himself, for he bas left
no trace behind him, as far as we can understand, that he had read the volumes
he so studiously kept from the sight of others. The fact, however, is, that the
song above quoted is formed out of two ballads by Martin Parker, with his
initiais at the end of them : one of which bears the following title .--
A'ee_p a good 'ongue in /our Jlead :
for
|Iere's a very good woman, in every respect
But only her tongale breeds all the defect.
INTRODUCTION. xxi
"It opens with a stanza, only the first rive lines of which were employed,
with some slight changes, by Walton.
" I man'y'd a wife of late,
The more's my unhappy rate :
I tooke ber for love,
As fancy did me move,
And not for ber worldly state.
For qualities rare
Few with ber compare ;
Let me doe ber no wrong.
I must confesse,
Her chiefe amisse,
Is onely this,
As some wives is,
She cannot rule ber tongue.
"Walton wanted no more than the commencement ; more would not have
answered his purpose ; and for a conclusion he resorted to another popular
production by the saine writer (whom he novhere names), which is thus headed
in the original copy :--
he JlIilke-maid's .Lire ;
or
A pretty nev ditty, composed and pen'd,
The praise of the milking paile to defend.
" Like the former, it consists of many stanzas (of which we shall speak
present]y), but as SValton did not require more than part of one of them, he
took it (again with alterations) from the following :--
" Those lasses nice and strange,
That keep shops in the Exchange,
Sit pricking of clouts,
And giving of flouts,
They seldom abroad do range :
Then cornes the
. . green sicknesse
And changeth their likenesse,
Ail this for want of good sale ;
But 'tis not so,
As proofe doth show
By them that goe
In frost and SHOW,
To carry the milking paile.
"Both these ballads were written tobe sung to the saine air, ' To a
curious new tune called the Milkemaid's Dumps,' which, as far as we know,
has been lost, for we find no trace of it in any collection, public or private.
lqeither of Martin Parker's ballads has a date, but the first was ' Printed at
London for Thomas Lambert, at the Horshoo in Smithfield,' while the last
haz merelï ' Printed at London for T. Lambert.' Both axe in black-letter i
xx 'NT.ODUCTION.
and as Walton has thought them worth quoting, another specimcn or two from
each may hot be unacceptable. The following is the thh'd stanza of ' Keep a
good Tongue in your Head.'
"Her cheeks are red as the rose
Which June for her glory shows :
Her teeth on a row
Stand like a wall of SHOW,
Between her round chin and ber nose.
Her shoulders are decent,
Her armes white and pleasant,
Her fingers small and long.
1o fault I find,
]3ut in my minde
Most womenkind
Must corne behind,
O ! that she could rule her tongue.
"Of ber domestic qualities and recommendations the author writes thus,
showing, among other things, the usual employments of women of her rank in
that day--most likely during the Protectorate.
" Her needle she can use well ;
In that she doth most excel ;
She can spin and knit,
And everything fit,
As her neighbours all tan tell.
Her fingers apace
At weaving bone lace
She useth all day long :
Ail arts that be
So women free
Of each degree,
Performeth she.
O ! that she could fuie her tongue.
"From the other ballad, 'The Milk-maid's L;.fe,' which must have
preceded in point of date, we make the subsequent quotation, which succeeds
a stanza in which Parker invokes the ' rural goddesses' to assist him in singing
the praise of glilk-maids.
" The bravest lasses gay
Live hot merry so as they.
In honest civil sort
They make each other sport,
As they trudge on their way.
Corne faire or foule weather,
They're fearfull of neither,
Their courages never quaile :
In wet or dry,
Though winds be hye.
A:d darke to sky,
Tlley ne'er deny
To carr,/the milking paile.
INTRODUCTION. xxiii
Their hearts are free from care,
They never will dispaire ;
Whatever them befall,
They bravely beare out ail,
And fortune's frowns outdare.
They pleasantly sing
To welcome the spring,
'Gainst heaven they never raile.
If grasse will grow
Their thankes they show ;
And frost and tnow,
They merrily goe,
Along with the milking paile.
" Surely those who love poetry, and who sometimes unreasonably expect
to meet with it in old ballads of a comparativoly modern date, must be satisfied
with this sweet, cheerful, pastoral rein of Martin Parker. To us it is
wonder that he was quoted by Izaac Walton ; our wonder rather is that
Walton did hot name him as well as Marlowe and Raleigh : however, his
reason might be that Parker was living when the first edition of ' The Com-
plete Angler' was printed, in I653. Martin Parker was a much better poet
than many give him credit for ; and though he wrote for bread, and wrote to
please the vulgar, he was, as we could show did space allow if, author of some
of the best and most famous of the Robin Hood ballads, hitherto anonymously
printed. Before we quit Walton and angling, we may fitly direct attention to
an excellent song, in the collection now under review, chiefly in praise of
angling, but satirically and humourosly touching various professions and
avocations : the following is one stanza of it.
" When Eve and Adam liv'd by love,
And had no cause for jangling,
The Devil did the waters more ;
The Serpent fell to angling.
He baits his hook with godlike look ;
Quoth he, this will intangle her ;
The woman chops, and down she drops.
The Devil was the first angler.
" The title given to the production is ' The Royal Recreation of Jovial
Anglers,' and the main purpose of the writer (whose naine or initiais nowhere
appear) is stated in thir introductory couplet :--
" Proving that ail men are Intanglers,
And ail professions are tumed Anglers
In this spirit we re.ad as follows :
" Upon the Exchange, twixt twelve and one,
Meets many a aeat intangler :
Most merchant men, hOt one in ten,
But is a cmming Angler :
xxiv
INTRODUCTION.
And, like the fishers in the brooke,
B"other doth fish for brother :
A golden bait hangs at the hooke,
Aad they fish for one another.
A shopkeeper I next prefer ;
A formal man in black, sir,
That throws his angle everywhere,
And cryes, ' What is it you lack, sir ?
Fine silks and stuffs, or hoods and muffs ?'
But if a courtier prove the intangler,
My Cltlzen must look tot th .n,
Or the fish will catch the Angler.
" Several circumstances show that this song was hot as old as the reign of
Elizabeth, one of them being that the hour for the meeting of merchants on
the Exchange in her day, as might be established by various authorities, was
between eleven and twelve ; in the snbsequent reign it bec.ame between twelve
and one, and soit continued till after the breaking out of the civil wars.
" It was during those wars that May-games were temporarily suppressed ;
but they were not finally extinguished until a short time before the Restora-
tion, when the lunebriz llore took place. In the Roxburghe collection
are seveml ballads and songs upon May and May-games, some, no doubt,
written shortly anterior to their extinction, and when the people seemed
naturally to cling to them with peculiar for.dness. A few of these pieces are
penned in such a free and lively strain, that they are hardly fit for the selection
of specimens, although there is in them much more of lively and boisterous
mirth, than of vice and indelicacy. The first stanza of one of them, entitled
' The Fetching Home of May,' (to the tune of' Room for Company') may be
extracted, and will show the animating spirit with which they were composed :
it is certainly not much later than the reign of Elizabeth, although the copy of
it sve bave used was ' printed at London, by J. Wright, junior, dwelling at the
upper end of the Old Bai]y,' perhaps about 165o or 66o.
" Now Pari leaves piping, the gods have done feasting,
There's never a goddess a hunting to-day,
Mortals doe marvell at Corydon's jesting,
That lends them assisting to entertain lIay.
The lads and the lasses,
With scarfs on their faces,
So lively, it passes,
Trip over the downes:
Much mirth and sport they make,
Running at barley-breake :
Good lack ! what paines they tak¢
For their green gownes.
INTRODUCTION.
xxv
" It is quite evident from the run ofthe lines, that the tune of Room for
Company,' was the saine as was afterwards called ' Hunting the Hale.' In
fact, 'Hunting the Hare,' was also known by the naine of 'The Green
Gown,' from the burden of the very stanza we have just quoted.
It is quite evident from the run of the lines, that the tune of ' Room for
Company' was the saine as that afterwards called ' Hunting the Hare,' In
fact, ' Hunting the Hare' was also known by the name of ' The Green Gown,'
from the burden of the very stanza we have just quoted.
There is a species of ballad, of which several examples are contained in
the Roxburghe volumes, that we do not recollect to have met with elsewhere,
nor bas it, we believe, been remarked upon by any of our poetical antiquaries.
We allude to the ' ][edley,' which consists of stanzas formed from single lines
or fragments of other popular compositions, well known at the rime, and there-
fore easily recognized by street-audiences. We may reasonably doubt whether
medleys were ever great favourites with the lower orders, or more of them
would have corne down to us : they may have specimens of the kind in the
Pepysian Library at Cambridge ; but we doubt it, and we feel sure that they
have none at Oxford. The fact is, that the pleasure to be derived from them
so much depended upon the recognition of lines from current and notorious
ballads, that the moment popular recollection failed, medleys would cease to
be attractive, and hence they must have been rarely reprinted. We were sur-
prised, therefore, to meet with two different copies, clearly o.f different dates,
of a medley, the antiquity of which is hardly to be disputed, because it was
sung "to the tune of Tarlton's Medley," meaning Richard Tarlton, the most
celebrated comedian of any age, who died in I588. ' Tarlton's Medley' must
bave been greatly liked as he wrote and sung it at the theatre, and of its
popularity the author of the imitation before us, which was to be sung to the
same tune, availed himself. It is entitled.
A excellent Iedle¢,
Which you may admire at with offence,
For every line speaks a contrary sense,
and it was printed first for Henry Gosson {not originally, although every
earlier edition seems to have peri_,hed), and afterwards for F. Coles, T. Vere,
and J. Wright. It opens with this stanza, and it will be observed that no one
line bas an)" connexion in point of sense with-another :--
"In summer time when folks make hay,
Ail is hot true that people say,
The fool's the wisest in the play.
Tush ! take away your hand.
xxv "[NTIODUCTION.
The fiddler's boy hath broke his base ;
Sirs, is hot this a piteous case ?
Most gallants loath to smell the mace
Of V¢ood-street."
Here we find fragments of seven or eight 6ifferent ballads, and so of the other
stanzas, nineteen in number, of which the medley consists : thus. supposing
each stanza tobe composed of lines taken from seven separate productions of
this class, the whole ballad would remind the hearer, at the time it was
written, of no fewer than 33 popular songs. Some, though only a few, bave
survived to our own day : thus, in the following stanza, we only know ofthat
performance in hich John Dory is mentioned :
" Vhen the fifth LIarry sail'd to France,
Let me alone for a countrey dance,
/ ell will bewail ber luckless chance ;
Fie on false-hearted men ;
Dick Tarlton was a merry wag,
Hark, how the prating ass will brag,
John Dory sold his ambling nag
For kick-sbaws.
The ballad of John Dory bas been preserved by Ritson and others, but we
may well grieve for the loss of an heroical ballad on the victories of Henry V.
if hot for that which related some personal anecdote of Tarlton. The reference
to him proves, in some degree, the antiquity of the production ; and in another
stanza, we find an allusion, the darkness of which may be easily accountetl for,
to the accident which happened on the Thames, late in the reign of Elizabeth,
when a shot from a gun wounded one of the watermen, who were rowing the
Queen in ber barge :--
"Now hides are cheap, the tanner thrives,
tIang those base knaves that beat their wives,
He needs must go that the devil drives ;
God bless us from a gain !
The beadles make the lame to run ;
Vaunt hot before the battle's won,
A cloud sometimes may hide sun.
Chance medley.
It was "chance medley" that wounded the Queen's watermen, when
Thomas Appletree fired the gun on the Thames. It is to be borne in mind,
that when once a medley had been published, any subsequent writer seems to
have felt himselfat liberty to add-to, or alter it, in order that it might better
suit his own day ; and we learn, from the testimony in our handg, that such
,vas the custom with Martin Parker, whose initiais at the end of a ballad seem
to bave been sufficient to insure a considerable sale. The price of a broadside
of the kind was a penny during the reigns of Elizabeth, James, and Charles (as
INTRODUCTION. Xx'V
is proved by many of those tmder our notice), which cannot but be deemed
high, when we recollect that it was equal to about sixpenee of our present
money."
The late George Daniel, of Canonbury Square, Islington, near London,
who formerly possessed the "ELIZABETIAN GARLAND," which consists of
Seventy Ballads, printed between the Years I559 and 597,--at the sale of
whose library it was purchased by the late Joseph Lilly for Henry Huth, Esq.,
says in an article on "OLD BALLADS," in his "Love's Lagt .Labour" 2Vot
Zot :"--" If any portion of English Literatre be more generally interesting
than another, it is ancient ballad-lore. Battles have been fought and heroes
immortalised in its inspiring strains. It has ruade us familiar with the manly
virtues, sympathies, sports, pastimes, traditions, the very language of out tore-
fathers, gentle and simple. We follow them to the tented field, the tourna-
ment, the border foray, the cottage ingle, and the public hostelrie. We glow
with their martial spirit, and join in their rude festivities. Narrative and
sentiment, reality and romance, the noblest patriotism and the tenderest love,
the wildest mirth and the deepest melancholy, inform, delight, and subdue us
by turns. The impulses of the heart, those geins of truth ! were the inspira-
tions of the muse. Hence thoughts of rare pathos and beauty, and felicity of
expression that no study could produce, no art could polish, find a response in
every bosom. In peace, the ballad might be the "woeful" one ruade to a
' mistress's eyebrow ;' in war, it was the trumpet sounding ' to arms !' or the
mued drain rdling forth the warrior's requiem.
"The merit of out old English Border Ballads was long ago acknow-
ledged far beyond sea-girt land. Joseph Scaliger, when he visited England
x566 , among many minute observations recorded in his entertainiug Table Talk,
particularly notices the excellence of out Border Ballads, the beauty of Mary
Stuart, and out burning coal instead ofwood in the north.
"The tune s to which these ballads were sung are centuries older than the
ballads themselves. Many of them are lost in antiquity. ' fFhe .B'ide'8 good
morron" ; ' 2"lte f/rst Atelles,' ' 19aton ad Pithias ; ' A new lust/ gallant,'
' lhe nine Muses; ' Petter s blacke,' ' Zi9htie Zore; ' Blaok Almaine,
tton 8cissilia,' ' Zabandalashotte,' ' Bragandar/ ; ' 17e I|'aaton ll'ije, '
' In 8oraertirae; and ' Please one and lolease all,' were among the most
popular. Many ballads quoted by Shakespeare, Beaumont and Fletcher, and
Samuel Rowlands (' Crew of I£in 9 ¢7ossits) extend hot beyond a single verse,
or even a single line ; yet how suggestive are theyl It was such penny
broadsides that composed the ' bunch' of the military mason, Captain Cox, of
Coventry, and that stocked the pedlar's pack of Autolicus ; and their power
XoEviii INTRODUCTION.
of fascination may be learnt from the varlet's om words, when he laughingly
brags how nimbly he lightened the gaping villagers of their purses while chant-
ing to them his merry trol-my-dames !
"We delight in a Fiddler's Fling, full of mirth and pastime ! We revel
in the exhilarating perfume of those odoriferous chaplets gathered on sunshiny
holidays and star-twinkling nights, bewailing how beautiful maidens meet
with faithless wooers, and how fond shepherds are cruelly jilted by deceitful
damsels ; how despairing Corydons hang, and how desponding Phillises drown
themselves for love ; how disappointed lads go to sea, and how forlorn lasses
follow them in jackets and trousers ! Sir George Etheridge, in his comedy of
' Love in a Tub,' says, ' Expect at night to see an old man with his paper
lantern and crack'd spectacles, singing you woeful tragedies to kitchen-maids
and cobblers' apprentices.' Aubrey mentions that his nurse could repeat the
history of England, from the Conquest to the rime of Charles I., in ballads
And Aubrey, himself a book-learned man, delighted in after years to recall
them to his remembrance. In Walton's ' Angler,' Piscator having caught a
chub, conducts Venator to an ' honest aie house, where they would find a
cleanly room, lavender in the windows, and t«'entj ballads stuck about the
wall.' ' When I travelled,' says the Spectator, ' I took a particular delight in
hearing the songs and fables that are corne from father to son, and are most in
vogue among the common people of the countries through which I passed.'
The heart-music ofthe peasant was his native minstrelsy, his blithesome c.aml
in the cottage and in the field."
In respect to the "wooden prints" which "adorn" the ballads here re-
printed, our readers will hot fail to see ata glance how often the saine cuts are
repeated, and ruade to change sides with one another, and that simply to make
a little variation from a ballad that had been printed at the saine office on the
day, week, or month previous, while scarce one cut in fifty has been executed
for, or bears in any way on the subject marrer.
We have, therefore, designedly and silently omitted several cuts after they
have been used on two, and three previous occasions, by which means we have
been enabled to give a greater number of balhds on a given number of pages
than we otherdse could have done, as we considered it a waste of space to
repeat over and over again to the end of the chapter the saine old, and in mauy
cases ilmppropriate " wooden prints."
With these remarks, we place before the public the first volume of our
reprint of--
TIIE ROXBURGHE BALLADS.
CONTENTS OF VOL. I.
PAGE
New Yorkshyre Song, intituled : Yorke,
Yorke, for my Monie ......
True Relation of the Life and Death of
Sir Andrew Barton, a Pyrate and
Rover on the Seas ... --- 9
Amantium iroe Amoris redintegratio est"
The falling out of Lovers is the re-
newing of Love ...... 2
The Maydes Answere ...... 25
An Admirable New Northern Story of
Constance and Anthony ... 29
Arme Askew, I am a woman poor and blind 38
Rare Example of a Vertuous Maid, It
was a Lady's Daughter ... 43
The Rarest Ballad that ever was seen, of
the Blind Beggar's Daughter of
Bednal Green ...... 48
The Batchelor's Pleasure and the Married
Man's Trouble ...... 60
An Excellent New Medley by M. P., i.c.,
Martin Parker ...... 67
An Excellent New Medley ...... 74
The Bride's Good-morrow ... 82
Friendly Consaile (A faithfu'l'i'riend and a
flattering foe) ...... 86
Bill of Fare ......... 93
Blew Cap for me ......... zoo
Pleasant New Court Song ...... o7
Pleasant Countrey New Ditty --- 3
The Catholick Ballad ...... 20
i CONTENTS OF VOL I.
The Cruell Shrow; or The Patient Mans
Woe ......
The Cooper of "lorfolke ; or A pretty
Iest, &c ..........
Choice of Inuentions ......
The Country-mans new Care away ...
Corne, buy this new Ballad, belote you doe
goe, &c ..........
A new Ballad, containing a communication
betweene the careful Wife and the
comfortable Husband, &c ....
The Householders New-yeere's Gift, &c ...
Corne worldlings see vhat
paines, &c .......
Second part--Corne, Prodigals, your selves
The cunning Northerne Begger ...
The Lire of Man .........
Cuckold's Haven, &c .... ...
Christmas Lamentation for the losse of his
Acquaintance, &c ........
or, Cupid's vrongs vindi-
cated, &c ..........
The Countrey Lasse ......
The Complaint of a Lover forsaken of his
Love .........
The Constancy of True Loue, &c ....
A Courtly New Ballad of the Princely
wooing, &c .......
The faire Maid of London's answer, &c ....
The Bride's Buriall ......
An excellent Ba]]ad" The Constancy of
Susanna .........
A Compleate Gentle-woman ......
Clods Carroll; or, A proper new Iigg, to be
sung Dialogue wise, of a man and a
woman that would needs be married
PAG E
I27
34
142
57
165
I69
175
186
I93
o
2 4
221
233
243
246
"2_6O
265
CONTENTS OF VOL I.
111
Constant, faire, and fine Betty, being .the
Young-man's praise of a curlous
Creature .........
The Constant Loyer ......
A discourse of Man's life .......
The Dead Man's Song ......
A Dialogue between Master Guesright and
poore neighbour Needy ...
Doctor Do-good's directions to cure many
diseases both in body and minde,
lately written and set forth for the
good of infeeted persons ...
Death's loud Allarum, &c .......
A delicate new Ditty, &C .......
A merry Discourse ......
The Despairing Loyer ......
The deceased Maiden-Louer ......
The Faithlesse Loyer ......
The Desperate Damsell's Tragedy ...
The Story of David and Berseba ...
The Distressed Virgin, &c .......
Death's Dance .........
The most rare and excellent H istory of the
Duchesse of Suffolke's Calamity ...
The discontented Married Man ...
A Pleasant new Dialogue, &c ....
A lamentable ballad on the Earl of Essex's
Death .........
An excellent Ballad of a Prince of England's
Courtship .........
Song af an English Merchant, borne at Chi-
chester .........
An excellent Song, wherein you shall finde
greatconsolation for a troubled minde.
An excellent new Ditty, &c .......
An excellent Sonnett, &c .... ...
Faire fall all good Tokens, &c ....
PAGE
"73
280
e86
292
3oi
306
3-,
39
3-5
332
9
34"
345
352
359
365
37r
379
385
394
,99
409
47
43
49
434
CONTENTS OF VOL I.
A Friend's Advice .......
The Four Wonders of this Land
The Fox-Chace: Or, The Huntsmar;
Harmony ......
A Fayre Portion for a Fayre "layd ...
Fayre Warning .........
Fond Love, why dost thou dally ...
An excellent Ballad of St. George for Eng-
land .........
PAGE
44»
453
459
465
47
477
2"emorar IVolice.
THE
HE Collection of Ballads long known as the
Roxburghe Ballads, consists of two
large volumes in folio, and embraces
nearly a thousand broad-sides in Ilad ttrr, and
are all in a very good state of preservation. Some
of these are repetitions of the same production by
different printers.
The Collection was commenced by Harley,
Earl of Oxford, and was augmented by Vffest and
Pearson, but especially by the Duke of Roxburghe,
at whose sale it was bought for the late Mr. Bright ;
who for many years kept the volumes out of sight,
but they were necessarily brought to light at his
death, when they were judiciously secured by the
British Museum, where they are accessible, and
where means of collation are afforded.
" On the rarity of the Ballads in the Collection
it is superfluous (says John Payne Collier) to enlarge;
in many instances the broadsides are unique: no
duplicates of them are to be met with in public or
private libraries, and itis easy to account for this
circumstance, if we reflect that they were sèldorn
printed in a form calculated for preservatior. The
more generally acceptable a ballad became, the
more it was handed about for perusal or performance,
and the more it was exposed to the danger of
destruction."
" IIIt; and
,Vritten on Various Subjects,
And
Orint ¢t¢¢n te far IDLX n NDCC.
CHIEFLY COLLECTED BY
ROBERT EARL OF OXFORD,
And purchased at the Sale of the late
MR. WEST'S LBRAR in the Year 773.
ENCREASED BV SEVERAL ADD;TONS.
In Two Volumes.
Vol. I.
LONDON,
Arranged and Bound in the Year I774.
A new Yorkshyre Song, Intituled"
3forke, 3forke, for my monie ; Of ail the Citties that ever I see,
For mery pastime and companie, Except the Citde of London.
S I came thorow the North countrey,
The fashions of the world to see,
I sought for mery companie,
to goe to the Cittie of London :
And when to the Cittie of Yorke I came,
I found good companie in the same,
As well-disposed to euery gaine,
as if it had been at London.
For/ce, Yorke, for my monie,
Of all lte Ciies lmt ever I see,
For mery astime and comanie,
Excel lire Ciltie of London.
¶ And in that Cittie what sawe I then ?
Knightès, Squires, and Gentlemen,
A shooting went for Matches ten,
as if it had been at London.
And they shot for twentie poundes a Bowe,
Besides great cheere they did bestowe,
I neuer saw a gallanter showe,
except I had been at London.
Yorke, Yorke, for my monie, d¢c.
These Matches, you shall vnderstande,
The Earle of Essex toake in hand,
Against the good Earle of Cumberlande,
as if it had been at London.
And agreede these matches all shall be
For pastime and good companie
At the Cittie of Yorke full merily,
as if it had been at London.
kZorZ'c, 1 "orZ'e, for ¢y uouie, _c.
In Yorke there dwels an Alderman, which
Delites in shooting very much,
I neuer heard of any such
in all the Cittie of London.
Itis naine is Maltbie, mery and vise
At an 3" pastime 3'ou can deuise,
But in shooting ail lais pleasures lyes;
tbe like was neuer in London.
l'otite, k'orl«e, for 9' monie, &c.
This Maltbie, for the Citties sake,
To shoote, himself, did vndertake,
At any good Match the Earles vould make,
as well as they doe st London.
And he brought to the fielde, with him,
One Specke an Archer proper and trim,
And Smith, that shoote about the pin,
as if it had been at London.
J'orke, J'orbe,
Ior/«e, lorke, for 0' monie.
¶ Then came from Cumberland A rchers three,
Best Bowmen in the North countree,
I will tell you their names what they may bee,
well knowne to the Cittie of London.
\Vamsley many a man doth knowe,
And Bolton, how he draweth lais Bowe,
And Ratcliffes shooting long agoe
well knowne to the Cittie of London.
Yorke, Iorke,
¶ And the Noble Earle of Essex came
To the fielde himself, to see the same,
Which shal be had for euer in faine,
as soone as I corne at London.
For he shewed himself so diligent there
To make a mark and keepe it faire,
It is worthie memorie to declare
through all the Cittie of London.
Yorke, Yorke, &c.
¶ And then was shooting out of crye,
The skantling at a handfull nie,
And yet the winde was very hie,
as it is sometimes at London.
They clapt the Cloutes so on the ragges,
There was such betting and such bragges,
And galloping vp and downe with Nagges,
as if it had been at London.
J'«:'.:'r, J'°:',r.'r, ";.
4
Yoroee, YorAe, for my monie.
¶ And neuer an Archer gaue regarde
To halfe a Bowe, nor halfe a yarde,
I neuer see Matches goe more harde
about the Cittie of London.
For fairer play was never plaide,
Nor fairer layes was neuer laide,
And a weeke together they keept this trade,
as if it had been at London.
'orke, 'orke,
¶ The Maior of Yorke, with his companië,
Were all in the fieldes, I warrant ye,
To see good rule kept orderly,
as if had been at London.
Which was a dutifull sight to see,
The Maior and Alderman there to bee
For the setting forth of Archerie,
as well as they doe at London.
Vorke, Iorke, 'c.
¶ And there was neither fault nor fray,
Nor any disorder any way,
But euery man did pitch and pay,
as if it had been at London.
As soone as euery Match was done,
Euery man was paid that won,
And merily vp and doune did ronne,
as if it had been at London.
Jorke, Iorke,
1orke, ]'orke, fÇr my monie.
5
¶ And neuer a man that went abroade
But thought his monie well bestowde ;
And monie layd on heape and loade,
as if it had beer at London.
And Gentlemen there so franke and free,
As a Mint at Yorke agaire should bee,
Like shooting did I neuer see,
except I had been at London.
Yorke, Yorke, Cc.
¶ At Yorke were Ambassadours three,
Of Russia, Lordes of high dêgree,
This shooting they desirde to see,
as if it had been at London :
And one desirde to draxv a Bowe,
The force and strength thereof to knowe,
And for his delight he dreve it so
as seldome seene in London.
Yorke, Yorke,
¶ And they did maruaile very much
There could be any Archer such,
To shoote so farre the Cloute to tutch,
which is no newes to London.
And they might well consider than
An English shaft will kill a man,
As hath been proued where and whan,
and cronicled since in London. Jorke, &¢.
6
¶ The Earle of Cumberlands Archers won
Two Matches cleare, ere all was done,
And I ruade hast apace to ronne
to carie these newes to London ;
And Wamsley did the vpshot win,
With both his shafts so neere the pin
You could scant haue put three fingers in,
as if it had been at London. Yorke,
¶ I passe hOt for my monie it cost,
Though some I spent, and some I Iost,
I wanted neither sod nor roast,
as if it had been at London.
For there was plentle of euery thing,
Redd and fallowe Deere for a K ing,
I neuer sawe so mery shooting
since first I came from London.
l'orke, Iorke, &c.
¶ God saue the Cittie of Yorke therefore,
That had such noble frendes in store
And such good Aldermen send them more,
and the like good lucke at London ;
For it is hOt little ioye to see
When Lords and Aldermen so agree,
With su,:h aecording Communaltie,
God sende vs the like at London.
J'orZ'e, I"orZ'e, &c.
God saue the good Earle of Cumberlande,
His praise in golden lines shall stande,
That maintaines Archerie through the land,
as well as they doe at London.
Whose noble minde so courteously
Acquaintes himself with the Communaltie,
To the glorie of his Nobilitie,
I will carie the lraise to London.
I"orZ'e, 1/'orZ'e, &c.
And tell the good Earle of Essex thus,
As he is now yong and prosperous,
To vse such properties vertuous
deserues great praise in London :
For it is no little ioye to see
Wlaen noble ¥outhes so gracious bee
To giue their good willes to their Countree,
as xvell as they doe at London.
YorZ'e, } orbe, OEc.
Farewell good Cittie of York to thee,
Tell Alderman Maltbie this from mee.
In print shall this good shooting bec
as soon as I come at Lond6n.
And many a 8ong will I bestowe
On ail the Musitions that I knowe,
To sing the praises, where they goe,
of the Cittie of Yorke in London.
l'orc, l'orZ'c,
8
Yorke, Yorke, for my nonle.
¶ God saue our Queene and keep our peace,
That our good shooting maie increase ;
And praying to G0d let vs not cease,
as well at Yorke, as at London.
That all our Countrey round about
lIay haue Archers good to hit the Clout,
Which England cannot be without,
no more then Yorke and London.
l'orke, Yorke,
¶ God graunt that (once) ber l.iaiestie
Would came her Cittie of Yorke to sec,
For the comfort great of that Countree,
as well as she doth to London.
1Nothing shal be thought to deare
To sec her Highnes Persan th'ere, .
With such obedient loue and feare
as ever she had in London.
Yorke, çorke,/or ny manie.
Of all the Çillies lhat euer [ sec,
For ery astime and conanie,
Eaccet t/te Citlie of l_.ondon.
From Yorke, by W.E.
Inrinted at Zondon by
Richard [ones : dwelliȂ
neere Hol6ourne Bridge,
1584.
A True Relation 0fthe Lire and Death
of Sir ' «arew JTarLou, a Pyrate and
Rover on the Seas.
Tune, Come follow ruy Love, &c.
"When Flora with ber fragrant flmvers
bedect the earth so trim and gay,
And Neptune with his dainty shovers
came to present the month ot May,
King Henry would a-hunting ride ;
over the river of Thames past he,
Vnto a mountain top also
did walk some pleasure for to see:
IO Tke Lire and Deatk of Sir Andrew 17arton,
Where forty Merchants he espyed,
with fifty sail, come towards him,
Who then no sooner were arriv'd,
but on their knees did thus complain :
" An't please your Grace we cannot sail
to France no voyage to be sure,
But Sir Andrexv Barton makes us quail,
and robs us of our marchant-ware."
Vext was the Kin K, and, turning him,
said to his Lords of high degree,
" Have I ne'r a Lord within my Realm
dare fetch that Traytor unto me ?"
To him reply'd Charles Lord Howard,
I will, my Liege, with heart and hand,
If it please you grant me leave, he said,
"I will perform what you command."
To him then speak King Henry,
I fear, my Lord, you are too young.
No wit at all, my Leige, quoth he
I hope to prove in valour strong "
The Scotch Knight I vo,v to seek,
in what place soever he be,
And bring ashore, with all his might,
or into Scotland he shall carry me."
?lte Lire and Z)eat]t of Sir tndrew t?arton. I I
A hundred Men, the K ing then said,
Out of my Realm shall chosen be,
Besides Saylers and Ship-boys,
to guide a great ship on the Sea ;
Bowmen and Gunners of good skill
shall for this service chosen be,
And they, at thy command and will,
in all affairs shall wait on thee."
Lord Howard call'd a Gunner then,
who was the best in all the Realm,
His age was threescore years and ten,
and Peter Simon was his name :
My Lord call'd then a Bowman rare,
whose active hands had gaindd lame,
/k Gentleman born in Yorkshire,
and William Horsely was his name :
H orsely, quoth he, I must to Sea,
to seek a Traytor with good speed ;
Of a hundred Bowmen brave, quoth he,
I have chosen thee to be the Head.
« If you, my Lord, have chosen me
of a hundred Men to be the Head,
Vpon the main-toast l'Il hanged be,
if ,elvescore I miss one shillings breadth.
Lord Howard then, of courage bold,
went to the Sea with pleasant chear,
x rke Life and 13eath of Sir Mndrew Barlon.
Not curb'd with winter's piercing cold,
though it was the stormy time of year.
Not long he had been on the Sea,
on more in days than number three,
But one Henry Hunt there he espy'd,
a Merchant of New-castle was he.
To him Lord Howard call'd out amain,
and strictly charged him to stand,
emanding then from whence he came,
or where he did intend to land.
The Merchant then made answer soon,
with heavy heart and careful mind,
" My Lord, my ship it doth belong,
unto New-castle upon Tine."
" Canst thou shew me," the Lord did say,
"as thou didst sail by day and night,
A Scotish Rover on the Sea,
his name is Andrew Barton, Knight ?"
Then the Merchant sigh'd and said,
with grieved mind and well-away,
" But over-well I know that Wight,
I was his Prisoner yesterday ;
As I, my Lord, did sail from France,
a Burdeaux-voyage to take so far,
I met with Sir Andrew Barton thence,
who rob'd me of my merchant-ware ;
;lire Li./è and Deat/ of Sir Andrew ttarlo,t, a
And mickle debts, God knows, I owe,
and every Man doth crave his own;
And I ara bound to London now,
of out gracious K ing to beg a boon."
" Shew me him," said Lord Howard then,
"let me once the Villain see,
And e'ry penny he bath from thee tane,
l'Il double the saine with shillings three."
" Now God forbid," the Merchant said,
" I fear your aire that you will miss;
God bless you froln lis tyranny,
For little you thmk what Mari he is.
He is brass within and steel without,
his ship most huge and mighty strong,
With eighteen pieces of orclnance
he carrieth on each side along ;
With beams for his top-casde,
as also being huge and high,
That neither English nor Portugal
can Sir Andrew Barton pass by."
" Hard news thou shew'st," then said the Lord,
" to welcome Stranger to the Sea :
But, as I said, i'll bring him aboard,
or into S¢otland he shall carry me."
14 Thc Lire atd De«th of Szr /.ndrcw )arton.
The Merchant said, " If you will do so
take counsel then I pray withal,
Let no Man to his top-castle go,
nor strive to let his beams down fall :
Lend me seven pieces of ordnance then,
of each side of my ship," said he
" And to-morrow my Lord,
again I will your Honour see;
/k glass l'll set as may be seen,
whether you sail by day or night ;
And to-morrow, be sure, before seven,
you sha]l see Sir Andrew Barton, Knight,"
The Merchant set my Lord a glass
so well apparent in his sight,
That on the morrow, as his promise was,
he saw Gir Andrew Barton, Knight.
The Lord then swore a mighty oath,
" Now, by the I-Ieavens, that be of might--
13y faith, believe me, and by troth,--
I think he is a worthy Knight."
Sir Andrew Barton sehing him
thus scornfldly to pass b),
As though he cared hot a l,in,
for him and ail his Company ;
Tke Lire and Dcath of Sir Andrew l?arton. 5
Then called he his Men main,
" Fetch back yon Pedler now," quoth he,
" And e're this way he cornes again,
i'll teach him xvell his courtesie."
" Fetch me my lyon out of hand,"
saith the Lord, "with rose and streamer high
Set up withal a willow wand,
that Merchant-like I may pass by."
Thus bravely did Lord Howard pass,
and on anchor rise so high ;
No top. sail at last he cast
but as a Foe did him defie :
A piece of ordnance soon was shot
by this proud Pirate fierely then
Into Lord Howard's middle deck,
which cruel shot kill'd fourteen Men.
He called then Peter Simon, he,
" Look how thy word do stand in stead,
For thou shall be hanged on main-toast,
if thou miss twelvescore one peny breadth."
Then Peter Simon gave a shot,
which did Sir Andrew mickle scare,
In at his deck it came so hot,
kill'd fifteen of his Men of war;
O lhc Li_/'c amt Dealk ,oE .-'ir MJtdrew BartoJt.
" Alas !" then said the Pirate stout,
" I ara in danger now I see;
This is some Lord, I greatly fear,
that is set on to conquer me."
Then Henry Hunt, with rigour hot,
came bravely on the other side,
Who likewise shot in at his deck,
and killed fifty of his Men beside ;
Then "out, alas !" Sir Andrew cry'd,
" What may a Man now think or say ?
Yon Merchant-thief that pierceth me,
he was my Prisoner yesterday !"
Then did he on Gordian call
unto the top-castle for to go,
And bid his beams he should let fall.
The Lord call'd Horsely now in haste,
" Look that thy word now stand in stead,
For thou shalt be banged on Main-toast,
if thou mlss twelvescore a shilling" breadth."
Then up ma..,t-t,'ee swerved he,
this stout and mighty Gordian,
But Horsely he most happily
shot him u'nder the collar-bone.
ñ Lijé m{ Dc«th o/.çir .4udrew Baril,n. 7
Then calrd he on his Nephew then,
said, " Sister's .Sons I have no mo,
Three hundred pound I will give thee
if thou wilt to top-castle go."
Then stoutly he began to climb,
from off the toast scorn'd to depart,
But Horsely soon prevented him,
and deadly pierced him to the heart.
His Men being slain, then up amain,
did this proud Pirate climb with speed ;
For armour of proof he had put on,
and did not dint of arrows dread ;
" Corne hither, Horsely," saith the Lord,
" see thou thy arrovs aim aright,
Great means to thee I xvill afford,
and, if thou speed'st, i'll make the Knight."
Sir Andrew did climb up the tree
with good right will and all his main ;
Then upon the breast hit Horsely he,
611 the arrow did return again ;
Then Horsely 'spied a private place,
with a perfect eye in a secret part,
His arrow swiftly flew apace,
and smote Sir Andrew to the heart ;
18 The Lire and Dcailt oJ Sir Azdrew Bartan.
" Fight on, fight on, my merry Men ail,
a little I am hurt yet not slain,
I'll but lye down and bleed a while,
and corne and fight with you again.
And do not," said he, "fear English Rogues,
and of your Foes stand not in awe,
But stand fast by St. Andrew's Cross,
until you hear my whistle blow."
They never heard his whistle blow,
xvhich made them ail full sore afraid ;
Then Horsely said, " My Lord, aboard !
tor now Sir Andrew Barton's dead."
Thus boarded they this gallant ship,
with right good will and ail their main,
Eighteen-score Scots alive in it,
besides as many more was slain.
The Lord went where Sir Andrew lay,
and quickly thence cut off his head."
"I should forsake England many a day,
if thou wert alive as thou wert dead."
Thus from the wars Lord Howard came,
with mickle joy and triumphing,
The Pirate's head he brought along,
for to present unto out king;
T]e Lire and Deat]t of Sir Indrew Barton.
Who briefly then to him did say,
before he knev well vhat was done,
"Where is the Knight and Pirate gay,
that I myself may give the doom ?';
"You may thank God," then said the Lord,
" and four Men in the Ship," quoth he,
"That we are safely corne ashore,
sith you never had such an enemy ;
I9
That is Henry Hunt, and Peter Simon
William Horsely and Peter's Son :
Therefore reward them for their pains,
For they did service at their turn."
To the Merchant then the King did say,
" In lieu of xvhat he hath from the tarte,
I give to thee a noble a day,
Sir Andrew's whistle and his chain.
To Peter Simon a crown a day ;
and half-a-crown a day to Peter's Son ;
And that was for a shot so gay
which bravely brought Sir Andrew down.
Horsely, I will make the a Knight,
and in Yorkshire thou shalt dwell ;
Lord Howard shall Earl Bury hight,
for this title he deserveth well.
20 The Lire and Death of Sir Andrew larlon.
Seven shillings to our English Men,
who in this fight did stoutly stand ;
And twelve-pence a day to the Scots, till they
corne to m" Brother-King's high land."
Printed by and for il. ®. and sold by the
Booksellers of gletorn,r an .onorbribg,.
.//mam'ztm irce ./1 moris redinlegraEo
The falling out of Louers, is the renewing of Loue.
To tAe tune ol c Ae 2Ieddow row.
Corne my best and deerest,
corne sit thee downe by me ;
When thou and I am neerest
breeds my felicitie;
To verifie the Prouerbe
would set my heart at rest,
Amantium iroe amoris
redineffratio est.
4mantium ire.
My faire and chast Penelope,
declare to me thy minde :
Wherein I haue offended thee,
to make thee proue vnkinde ?
I never vrg'd the cause
in earne,t or in lest :
A mantium irw amoris
redintegratio est.
-hy beauty gaue me much content,
thy verrue gave me more;
Thy modest kinde ciuility,
which I doe much adore ;
Thy modest stately Iesture
liues shrined in my brest ;
A mantium iroe amoris
redintegratio est.
How dearely I haue loued thee
thou wilt confesse and tell
More then my tongue can here expresse,
my fayre and sweetest Nell ;
Oh hadst thou bin but true in love
I had beene double blest :
.4mantium ire amoris
redintegratio esL
24mantium ire.
And wilt thou then forsake me, loue,
and thus from me be gone,
Whom I doe hold my turtle doue,
my peerlesse Parragon--
The Phoenix of the world
an.-I pillow of my rest ?
l tattiztt irw amoris
redinlegralio esL
23
Fare Cynthia, the want of thee
doth breed my ouerthrow ;
lIy body in my agony,
doth melt away like snow.
The plagues of Egipt could no more
torment my tender brest ;
.dl manlittt ire amoris
redinleralio esL
Now I, like weeping Niobe,
may wash my hand in teares,
Whilst others gaine the loue of thee
I daunted am with feares ;
Now may I sigh and waile in woe,
disasterously distrest :
./l manlium irte amoris
redinleralio est.
24
4manlium irte.
And thus in breuitie of time
I sadly end my ditty,
Which here ara left to statue and pine
without remorse or pitty.
Yet will I pray that still thou maist
remaine among the blest;
4 manth«m irce amoris
redinleralio esl.
The Maydes Answer,
To the same tune.
Though falling out of faithfull friends
renewing be of loue.
A change of time will make amends
a turtle I may proue"
And till that change of time,
with patience be thou blest :
Amantium irw amoris
red'nteq'rat[o est.
6
7"he 21rayde's Vswere.
The tryall of Penelope
in me is proued true,
Misdoubt thou not my constancie,
the turfle keepes her hew,.
And to her chosen mate
doth bear a loyall brest :
A»zantium iroe amoris
redbztex rat io'.es t.
The faithful knot of loue is bound,
I rest thy deare for euer,
Thy pining heart, with bleeding wound,
is cured by the giuer--
The shaft of loue I shot
returnes into my brest :
.4 maliu iree a».,.oris
redbtegratio est.
I made but tryall of thy heart,
how constant it would be ;
And now I see thou wilt not start
nor fleet away from me;
Though Cressida I proue,
yet Troylus thou wilt test :
A zanlium iroe a»,or«s
redinteoratio est.
7he 3Iaydds Vnswere.
Account me for no xvoman kinde
if I vndoe the knot :
Or beare the false and faithlesse minde
to haue the same forgot
That once, betwixt vs tvo,
were sealed in each brest :
A mantium ire amoms
redinteralio est.
The siluer Moone shall shine by day,
the golden Sunne by night ;
Ere I will go that wanton xvay
wherein some take delight.
But, for 2Eneas, I,
with Dido, pierce my brest :
.4 mantium irw amoris
redintegratio esl.
Though I have beene vntrue vniust,
and changing like the Moone,
Yet in thy kindnesse doe I trust
that I may haue this boone :
That sweet forgiuenesse may
bring comfort from thy brest :
Mmanlium D'oe amoris
redinleôr«lio csL
28
The Mayde's M nswere.
You chrystall Planets, shine all cleer
and light a Louer's way :
Let me imbrace my louely deere,
which was I doubt a-stray :
If once I get the same
l'le feede it in my brest ;
A mantium irce amoris
redintegratio esl.
Come, mourne with me, each louing Lasse
That Cupid's darlings be,
Green loue will change like withered grasse,
the same behold in me ;
If I had stedfast beene,
then had my loue beene blest :
Amanliu» irw amoris
redinterratio eçt.
Finis.
Printed at London for H. Gosson.
An Admirable Nexv Northern
of two Constant Lovers.
Story
Of two constant Loyers, as I understand,
Were born near Appleby, in Westmoreland ;
The Lad's name Anthony, Constance the Lass,
To Sea they went both, and great dangers did pass;
How they suffer'd shipwrack on the coast of Spain ;
For two years divided, and then met again,
By wonderful fortune and case accident,
And now both live at home with joy and content.
The Tune is oulll tljou trr't for $rrWlmr.
3 o
Constance and Anthony.
Two Loyers in the N orth,
Constance and Anthony,
Of them I will set forth
a gallant history :
They lov'd exceeding well,
as plainly doth appear ;
But that which I shall tell,
the like you ne'r did hear.
Still site crys, "A nlkony,
&onny Anthony,
Gan tkou 3y Zand or Sea,
l'll wend alonff with thee."
Anthony must to Sea,
his calling him did bind,
" My Constance dear," quoth he0
"I must leave thee behind :
I prithee do not grieve,
Thy tears will not prevail ;
l'll think on thee, my Sweet,
when the Ship's under Sail."
2ut still, &c.
'° How may that be ?" said he,
" consider well the case :"
Quoth she, "sweet Anthony,
I'II bide not in this place.
Constance and Mntony.
If thou gang, so will I,
Of the means do not doubt :
A Woman's policy
great matters may find out:
.M'y &onny .dnthony, .'«.
3 !
" I would be very glad,
but prithee tell me how ?"--
" I'I1 dress me |ike a Lad,
what say'st thou to me now ?"--
" The Sea thou can'st not brook,"--
" Yes, very well," quoth she,
" I'll Scullion to the Cook
for thy sweet company.
IWy &onny, 'c.
Anthony's leave she had,
and drest in Man's array,
She seem'd the blithest Lad
seen on a Summer's Day.
0 see what Love can do !
at home she wili not bide :
With her true Love she'll go,
let weal or woe betide.
My Dearest
3 2
Constance. and Antlwny.
In the Ship 'twas her lott
to be the under-Cook ;
And at the Fire hot
Wonderful pains she took;
She served ev'ry one,
fitting to their degree :
And now and then alone, .
She kissed Anthony.
")Iy onny Mnttwny,
my onny A nthony,
Ga.tg tAou ky Zand or Sea
l'll wend along with thee."
A Iack and weladay,
in Tempest on the main»
Their Ship was cast away
upon the coast of Spain 1
To the mercy of the Waves
they ail committed were,
Constance her own self she saves,
Then she crys for her dear.
"34y onny Antkouy,
my 3onny .zl nthony,
Gang thou by Land or Sea,
l'le wend along witlt lace,"
34
Comtance an4
Swimming upon a Plank,
at Bilbo she got ashore,
First she did heaven thank,
Then she lamented sore,
" 0 woe is me," said she,
" the saddest Lass alive,
My dearest Anthony,
Now on the Sea doth drive.
1PIy onny,
" What shall become of me,
why do I strive for shore,
Sith my sweet Anthony,
I never shall see more ?"
Fair Constance, do not grieve,
the saine good providence
Hath sav'd thy loyer sweet,
but he is far from hence.
Still, c.
A Spanish Merehant rieh,
saw ths fair-seeming lad
That did lainent so rnuchj
and was so grevioùs sadj
l-le had in England been,
and Ëngllsh understood,
He having heard and seen,
he in amazement stood :
,.çtill
Constance and Anthony.
The Merchant asked her
what was that Anthony
Quoth she, " my Brother, Sir,
who came from thence with me :"
He did her entertain,
thinking she was a Boy,
Two years she did remain
before she met her joy.
Still, g_ce.
Anthony up was tane
By an English Runagade,
With whom he did remain
at the Sea-roving trade :
l'th nature of a slave
he dicl i'th Galley row ;
Thus he his life did sàve,
but Cnstance did not know :
till site crys ".4ntitony,
my bony A nthoy,
Gazg lhou by Land or Sea,
l'll wend along wilh thee."
lqow mark what came fo
see how the fates did work,
A Ship that ber Master's was,
surpriz'cl this English Turk
36
Çanslance and Mnl/wny.
And into Bilbo brought
all that aboard her were ;
Constance full little thought
Anthony was so near.
Slill,
When they were eome on shore,
Anthony and the test,
She who was sad before,
was now with joy possest,
The Merchant much did muse
at this so sudden change,
He did demand the News,
which unto him was strange ;
Now she, .c.
Upon ber knees she fell
unto ber toaster kind,
And all the truth dld tell
Nothing she kept behind :
At which he did admire,
And in a ship of Spain
Not paying tor their hire
He sent them home again.
2Vow che,
Conslance and Aut]zooE.
The Spanish Merchant rich
did ot's own bounty give
A sum of Gold, on which
they now most bravely lire
And now in Westmoreland,
they were joyn'd hand in hand,
Constance and Anthony,
they live in mirth and glee.
Now she says, "Anthap,
n onny Antho,
Goocl providence we see,
bath g'uarded t/zee azd me."
37
Finis.
Printed for ililliam
at the Angel in
and l.
An[ne] Askew,
Intituled, I ara a IUoman Poor and Blind.
I ara a woman poor and blind,
and little knowledge remains in me,
Long bave I sought, but fain would find,
What Herb in my Garden were best tobe.
A Garden I have which is unknown,
which God of his goodness gave to me,
I mean my body,where I should have sown
The seed of Christ's true verity,
Mnne Mskew.
39
My spirit within me is vexed sore,
my spirit striveth against the same,
My sorrows do encrease more and more,
my conscience suffereth most bitter pain.
I xvith myself being thus at strife
xvould fain have been at rest,
musing and studying, in mortal life,
what things I might do to please God best.
With whole intent and one accord,
unto a Gardiner that I did know,
I desired him, for the love of the Lord,
truc seed in my garden for to sow,
Then this proud Gardener, seeing me so blind,
he thought on me to work his will,
And flattered me with words so kind,
to have me continue in m blindness still.
He fed me then with lies and mocks,
for venial sins he bid me go ;
to give my money to stones and stocks,
which was stark lies and nothing so
With stinking meat then was I fed,
for to keep me from my Salvation,
had Trentals of mass, and balls of lead,
not one word spoke of Christ's passion.
4 o
Arme Askew.
In me was sown ail kind of feigned seeds,
with Popish Ceremonies many a one,
Masses of Requiem, with other juggling deeds,
still God's Spirit out of my garden was gone.
Then was I commanded most strictly,
if of my Salvation I would be sure,
To build some Chappel or Chauntry,
to be pray'd for while the world doth endure.
"Beware of new learn.ing," quoth he, "it lyes,
which in the thing I most abhor,
Meddle not with it in any manner of wise,
but do as your fathers have done before."
My trust I did put in the Devil's works,
thinking sufficient my Soul to save,
Being worse than either Iews or Turks,
Thus Christ of his merits I did deprave,
I might liken myself, with a woful heart,
unto the Dumb man, in Luke the e|even,
From whence Christ caused the Devil to depart,
but, shortly after, he took the other seven.
My time thus, good Lord, so quickly I spent,
alas ! I shall die the sooner therefore ;
O Lord, I find it written in thy Testament,
that thou hast mercy enough in store
Mnne Mskew. 4
For such Sinners, as the Scripture saith,
that would gladly repent & follow thy word,
Which l'le hot deny, whilst I have breath,
for prison, tire, faggot, or tierce sword.
Strengthen me, good Lord, thy truth to stand,
for the bloody butchers have me at their will,
With their slaughter knives ready drawn in
their hands,
my simple Carcass to devour and kill.
0 Lord, forgive me my offence,
for I offended thee very sore ;
Take therefore my sinful body from hence,
then shall I, vile Creature, offend thee no more.
I would wish all creatures, and faithful friends,
for to keep from this Gardener's hands,
For he will bring them soon unto their ends,
with cruel torments of tierce tire brands.
I date not presume for him to pray,
because the truth of him it was well known,
But, since that rime, he had gone astray,
and much pestilent seed abroad he hath so,,vn.
Arme Askew.
Beeause that now I have no space
the cause of my death truly to show,
I trust hereafter that, by God's holy Graee,
that all faithful men shall plainly know.
To thee, 0 Lord, I bequeath my spirit,
that art the Work-master of the saine,
It is thine, Lord, therefore take it of right,
my carcass on earth I love, from whenee it
came.
Although to ashes it be now burned,
I know thou canst raise it again
In the saine likeness as thou it formed,
in Heaven with thee evermore to remain.
Printed by and for A. M. and sold by the
Booksellers of London.
A Rare Example of a Vertuous Maid
in tt'i, who was by ber own Mother procured
to be put in Prison, thinking the.reby to compel
her to Popery : but she continued to the end,
and finished her life in the tire.
Tune is, 0 Man of Desperation.
It was a Ladies Daughter
of Paris properly,
Her mother her commanded
to Mass that she should hie :
" 0 pardon me, dear mother,"
ber daughter dear did say,
"Vnto that filthy Idol
I never e.an obey."
With weeping and wailing
her mother then did go
To assemble her Kinsfolks,
that they the truth may know ;
Who, being then assembled,
they did this maiden call,
And put her into prison,
to fear her there withal.
44
Il was a Lady's Daug]tr.
But, where they thought to fear her,
she did" most strong endure ;
Altho' ber years was tender,
her faith was firm and sure ;
She weigh'd hOt their allurements,
she fear'd hOt firey flame,
She hop'd, thro' Christ ber Saviour,
to bave immortal lame.
Before the judge they brought her,
thinking that she would turn,
And there she was condemned
in tire for to burn.
I nstead of golden bracelets,
with cords they bound ber fast,
" My God, grant me with patience,"
(quoth she) "to die at last."
And on the morrow af ter,
which vas heï dying day,
They stript this silly Damsel
out of her rich ai ray ;
Her Chain, f Gold, so costly,
away from her they take,
And she again most joyfully
did all the world forsake.
Il was a Lady's 13aughter.
Vnto the place of torment
they brought her speedily,
With heart and mind most constant
she willing was to die.
But seeing many Ladies
assembled in that place,
These words she then pronounced,
lamenting of their case.
"You Ladies of this City,
mark well my words," (quoth she)
"Although I shall be burned,
yet do not pitty me ;
Yourselves I rather pitty,
and weep for your decay,
Amend your time fait Ladies,
and do no time delay."
Then came her mother, weeping,
her daughter to behold
And in her hand she brought her
a book covered with Gold:
" Throw hence," quoth she, "that idol,
convey it from my sight,
And bring me hither my bible,
wherein I take delight.
D
4 6
Il was a Lady's l)augler.
But, my distressed mother,
why weep you ? be content,
You bave to death delivered me,
most like an innocent.
Tormentor, do thy office
on me, when thou think'st best,
But God, my Heavenly Father,
will bring my soul to rest.
But oh ! my aged Father,
where-ever thou dost lye,
Thou know'st not thy poor daughter
is ready for to die;
But yet, amongst the Angels,
in Heaven I hope to dwell
Therefore, my loving Father,
I bid thee now farewel.
Farewel, likewise, my mother,
adieu, my friends, also,
God grant that you by others
may never feel such woe;
Forsake your superstition,
The cause of mortal strife,
Embrace God's true Religion,
for which I lose my lire,"
Il was a Lady's 1)aughter.
When ail these words were ended,
then came the man of death,
Who kindled soon a tire,
which stopt this Virgin's breath :
To Christ, her only Saviour,
she did her Soul commend,
" Farewel" (quoth she) "good people !"
and thus she made an end."
47
Printed by and for A. M. and sold by the Booksellers
of London.
The Rarest B,I.a) that ever xvas seen,
Of the Blind BEGGER'S DAUGHTER oft?cdnal
It was a blind Beggar that long lost his sight,
He had a fair Daughter, most pleasant & bright,
And many a gallant brave suitor had she,
For none was so comely as pretty Bessee.
And tbough she was of faveur most fair,
Yet, seeing she was but a Begger his heir,
Of ancient housekeepers despised was she
Whose sons came as suitors to pretty Bessee.
Wherefore, in great sorrow, fair Bessee did sa3",
" Good father and mother, let me go away
To seek out my fortune, where-ever it be."
The suit was then granted to pretty Bessee.
Thus Bessee that was of beauty most bright,
Then clad in gray russet, &, late in the night,
From father and mother alone parted she,
Who sighed and sobbed for pretty Bessee.
The Blind t?ewer's Dauhtcr of tcdimL Grccn. 49
She we,lt till she came at Stratford at Bow,
Then knew she not whither, nor which way, to go ;
Vith tears she lamented ber hard destiny,
So sad & so heavy was pretty Bessee.
She kept on her journey until it xvas day,
And went unto Rumford along the high-xvay,
And at the Kings-arms entertained was she,
So fait and well-favoured was pretty Bessee.
She had not been there one month to an end,
But master, & mistress, & ail was her friend,
And every brave gallant that once did her see,
Was straightway in love with pretty Bessee.
Great gifts they did send her of silver & gold,
And in their songs daily her love they extold ;
Her beauty was blazed in every degree,
So fait & so comely was pretty Bessee.
The young men of Rumford in her had thelr joy,
She shmv'd herself courteous, but never too coy,
At their commandment still would she be,
So fait & so comely is pretty Bessee,
Four suitors at once unto her did go,
They craved her favour, but sti!l she said, "no ;
I would hot wish G«ntlemen to marry with me,"
Yet ever they honoured pretty Bessee0
50 The 1311ncl Beçer's Dau.hter of l?edual-Green.
The one of them was a gallant young knight,
And he came to her disguis'd in the night ;
The second a Gentleman of good Degree,
Who wooed & sued for pretty Bessee.
A Merchant of London, whose wealth was not small,
Was then thé third suitor, & proper withal ;
Her master's own son the fourth man must be,
Who swore he would dye for pretty Bessee.
"And if thou wilt marry with me," quod the Knight,
" Fil make thee a Lady with joy and delight,
My heart is inthralled by thy beauty,
Then grant me thy favour, my pretty 13essee."
The Gentleman said, " Come marry with me,
In silks and in velvet my Bessee shall be,
My heart lies distressed, O hear me," quoth he,
"And grant me thy love, my pretty Bessee."
" Let me be thy husband," the Merchant did say,
" Thou shalt live in London nost gallant and gay,
My ships shall bring home rich jewels for thee,
And I will for ever love pretty Bessee."
Then Bessee she slghed, & thus she did say,
" My father and mother I mean to obey,
-First get their good-will, and be faithful to me,
And you shall enjoy your pretty Bessee."
The Blind teyger's Daughter of teduaLGr«en. 5
To every one this answer she made,
Wherefore unto her they joyfully said,
"This thing to fulfill we all do agree,
But were dwells thy father, my pretty Bessee ?"
"My father" (quoth she) "is plain to be seen,
The silly blind begger of Bednal-green,
That daily sits begging for charity,
He is the good father of pretty Bessee."
His marks and his tokens are known full well,
He alwaies is led with a dog and a bell,
A silly old man, God knoweth, is he,
Yet he is the tather of pretty Bessee."
"Nay then," (quoth the Merchant,) "thou art rtot
for mej"
" Nor," (quoth the Inholder,) " my wife shall not be,"
" I loath," (quoth the Gentleman,) "a begger's degree,
Therefore fare you well, my pretty Bessee."
" Why, then," (quoth the Knight,) " hap better or
worse,
I weigh not true love by the weight of the purse,
And beauty is beauty in every degree,
Then welcome to me, my pretty Bessee.
With thee to thy father forthwith will I go ;"
" Nay, soft," (quoth his kinsman.) "it must not be so,
A begger's daughter no Lady shall be,
Then take thy adieu of pretty Bessee."
5 2 The Bhnd tegger's Daughter oft?ednaLGreot.
And soon after this, by break of the Day,
The knight had from Rumford, stole Betty away ;
The young men of Rumford, so sick as may be,
Rode after to fetch again pretty Bessee.
As swift as the wind to ride they were seen,
Vntil they came near to Bednal-green ;
And, as the knight lighted most courteously,
They fought against him for pretty Bessee.
B]at rescue came presently over the plain,
Or else the knight for his love there had been slain,
The fray being ended, then straight he did see
His kinsman corne railing at pretty Bessee.
Then speak the blind begger, "altho' I be poor,
Rail hOt against my child at mine own door,
Tho' she be not deckt with velvet and pearl,
Yet will I drop angels with thee fcr my Girl ;
And then, if my gold will better ber birth,
And equal the gold that you lay on the earth,
Then neither rail, nor grudge you fo see
The blind begger's daughter a lady to be ;
But first I will hear, and have it well knmvn,
The gold that you drop shall be all your own."
With that they replied, " Contented we be" ;
"Then there's" (cluoth the begger) «for pretty
The Blinrt 27egger's Daughter of ]ednaL Grccn. 5 3
With that an angel he cast on the ground,
And dropped in engels full three thousand pound,
And oftentimes it proved most plain,
For the gentleman's one the begger dropt twain
So as the place, xvhereas he did sit,
With gold was covered every whit :
The Gentleman having dropt ail his store,
Said, " Begger, hold ! for I have no more :
Thou hast fulfilled thy promise aright."
" Then marry my Girl," quoth he to knight,
" And here," quoth he, " I'l throw you down,
A hundred pound more to buy ber a gown."
The Gentlemen ail, that this treasure had seen,
Admired the Begger of Bednal-green ;
And those that were her suitors before,
Their flesh for very anger they tore.
Thus was their Bessee matcht to a knight,
And made a lady in others despight ;
A fairer lady there never was seen
Than the begger's daughter of Bednal-green.
But of her sumptuous marriage and feast,
And what brave Lords & Knights thither was prest,
The second part shall set forth to your sight,
With marvelous pleasure and wished delight.
54 The l?lind l?eer's Dauhter of l?ednal-Green.
[PART II.]
Of a blind begger's daughter most fair and bright,
That late was betrothed to a young knight,
All the discourse thereof you may see,
But now cornes the wedding of pretty Bessee.
W'ithin a gallant palace most brave,
Adorned with ail the cost they could have,
This wedding was kept most sumptuously,
And ail for the love of pretty Bessee.
The Blind teffff er's l)auffhter o f tednal-Green. 55
AIl kind of dainties and delicates sxveet,
Was brought to their banquet as was thought meet,
Patridge, Ployer, & venison most free,
Against the brave wedding of pretty Bessee.
This wedding thro' England was spread by report,
So that a great number did thither resort
Of nobles and gentiles of every degree.
And all for the faine of pretty Bessee.
To church then went this gallant young Knight,
His bride followed af ter like a Lady most bright,
With troops of Ladies, the like was ne'er seen,
As went with sweet Bessee of Bednal-green.
This wedding being solemnised, then
With musick performed by skilful men,
The Nobles and Gentles sat down at that ride,
Each one beholding the beautiful bride.
But after their sumptuous dinner was done,
To talk & to reason a number begun
Of the blind begger's daughter most bright,
And what with his daughter he gave to the Knight.
Then speak the Nobles, " Much marvel have we,
Thejolly blind begger we cannot here see."
" My Lords," quoth the bride, "' my father's so base,
He's loth with his presence these 'states to disgrace."
5 6 Te Tlind tcge/s Dauhtcr of t.dnal-Green.
The praise of a woman in question to bring,
I3efore her own face were a flattering" thing';
" We think thy father's baseness," (quoth they)
" Might by thy beauty be clean put away."
They had no sooner these pleasant words spoke,
But in cornes the begger with a. silken cloak,
A velvet cap & a feather had he,
And now a Musician forsooth he would be ;
And being led in from catching of harm,
He bad a dainty lute under his arm,
Said, " Please you hear any musick of xne,
A soag I will sing you of pretty Bessee."
With that his lute he twanged straightway,
And thereon began most sweetly to play,
And, after a lesson, was plaid two or three,
He strain'd out this song most dclicately -
" A begger's daughter did dwell on the green,
Who for her beauty may well be a queen
A blith bonay Lass and dainty was she,
And many one called her pretty Bessee.
Her father had no goods nor no lands,
But begged for a penny all day with his hands,
And yet for her marriage gave thousands three,
Yet still had somewl-,at for prett Bessee.
2 he 131ind t?egger's Daugter of t?ednaLGreen. 5 7
And if any one her birth do disdain,
Her father is ready, with might & main,
To prove she is corne of a nol;le degree,
Therefore let none flout at my pretty Bessee."
W ith that the Lords & company round,
With hear:y laughter was ready to sound ;
At last said the Lords, " Full well we may see,
The bride _and the begger's beholden to thee."
With that the bride all blushing did fise,
With the fair water all in her fair eyes ;
" Pardon my father, grave Nobles," (quoth she)
" That through blind affection thus doteth on me."
" If this be thy father," the Nobles did say.
"Well may he be proud of this happy Day;
Yet by his countenance well we may see,
His birth with his fortune did never agree.
And therefore, blind begger, we pray thee bewray,
And look that the truth to us thou do say ;
Thy birth and thy parentage, what it might be,
Even for the love thou bearest to prett)" Bessee."
"Then give me leave, you Gentles each one,
A song more to sing and then l'll be gone;
And if that I do not win good report,
Then do not give me a groat for my sport.
5 8 The Blind Begger's Daughter of BednaLGreen.
When first out King his faine did advance,
And fought for his title in delicate France;
In many places great perils past he,
]3ut then was hot born my pretty Bessee.
And in those wars went over to fight,
Many a brave Duke, a Lord, and a Knight,
And with 'em young Monford of courage so free,
But then was hot born my pretty ]3essee.
And there did young Monford, with a blow o'th' face,
Lose both his eyes in a very short space ;
His life also had been gone with his sight,
Had hot a young woman corne forth i'th' night.
Amongst the slain men, her fancy did move
To search and to seek for her own true love ;
Who, seeing young Montford there gasping lie,
She saved his life thro' ber charity.
And then ail our vlctuals, in beggers' attire,
At hands of good people we then did require :
At last into England, as now is seen,
We came, and remained at Bednal-green.
And thus we have lived in fortune's despight,
Tbo' poor, yet contented with humble delight :
And in my old Years, a comfort to be,
God sent me a daughter called prett 13essee.
The Blind BegEer's Daughter of BednaLGreen. 59
And thus, you Nobles, my song I do end,
H oping the saine no man doth offend ;
Full forty long winters thus have I been,
A silly blind begger of Bednal-green."
Now when the company every one
Did hear the strange tale in song he had shown,
They were all amazed, as well they might be,
Both at the blin 
