A new Ballad, intituled, A warning to Youth, shewing the lewd life of a Marchants Sonne of London, and the miserie that at the last he sustained by his riotousnesse.
To the tune of the Lord Darley.
IN London dwelt a Marchant man,
that left unto his Sonne,
A thousand pound in Land a yere,
to spend when he was gone:
With coffer crambd with goldē crownes
most like a Father kinde.
To haue him follow his owne steps,
and beare the selfesame mind.
Thus euery man doth know, doth know,
and his beginning see,
But none so wise can shew, can shew,
what will his ending be.
No sooner was his father dead,
and clozed in his graue.
But this his wilde and wanton sonne,
his minde to lewdnesse gaue.
And being but of tender yeares.
found out such companie,
Which prou'd his fatall ouerthrow,
and finall miserie.
In gluttonny and drunkennesse,
he daily took delght,
And still in Strmpets company,
he spent the silent night:
Forgetting quite that drunkenesse.
and filthy lechery,
Of all the sinnes will soonest bring
a man to miserie.
Within the Seas of wanton loue,
his heart was drownde so deep.
A night he could not quietly
without strange women sleep.
And therefore kept them secretly,
to feed his foule desire,
Apparell'd all like gallant youthes
in Pages trimme attyre.
Their garments were of Crimson silke,
bedect with lace of gold,
Their curled haire was white as milke,
most comely to be hold.
He gaue them for their Cognizance,
a Purple bléeding heart,
In which two siluer arrowes séemed,
the same in twaine to part.
Thus secret were his wanton sports,
thus priuate was his pleasure,
Thus Harlots in the shape of men,
did wast away his treasure.
Oh woe to lust and lecherie,
oh woe to such a vice
That buyes repentance all too late,
and at too deare a price,
Yet he repented not at all,
so wilfull was his mind,
He could not see his infamy,
for sin had made him blind.
But in his heart defir'd a change
of wanton pleasures so,
That day by day he wishes still,
strange women for to know.
And so discharging of his traine,
and selling of his land.
To trauell into countries strange,
he quickly took in hand,
And into Antwerpe speedily,
thus all aflaunt he goes,
To see the dainty Flemish Girles,
and gallant Dutchland Froes.
For still, quoth he the Dutchland Froes,
are kinde to Englishmen.
Ile haue my pleasure of those Girles,
or neuer come againe:
And being arriu'd in Antwerpe streets,
he met a louely Dame,
That was a Widowes daughter deare,
of good report and fame.
Her beauty like the Purple rose,
so glistered in his eye,
That rauisht with the same, he crau'd
her secret company.
But she like to an honest Maid.
by no meanes would consent,
To satisfie his lustfull eye,
as was his falle intent,
A hundred dayes he wholly spent.
as many nights in vaine,
As many angels he consum'd,
Her maiden-head to gaine.
But nothing he preuaild at all,
untill that Satans aid,
And cursed counsell helping him,
for to deflowre this maid.
For like a lustfull Lecher he,
found such conuenient time,
That he inforced her to drink,
till she was drunk with wine,
And being ouerchargd with wine,
as Maidens heads be meake:
He rauisht her there, when that she
could no resistance make.
For being sencelesse there she lost
her sweet virginity,
Which she had kept full twenty yeares,
with great seuerity,
Therefore good Virgins take good heed
lest you be thus beguild.
When Wine is settled in your braine,
you may be got with Child.
And marke, I pray what then befell,
unto this modest Dame:
When she recouered her lost sence
and knew of her defame,
In pining grief, she languisht long.
like Philomel by night
And would not come for very shame,
in honest Maidens sight:
Her wombe at last began to swell,
her Babe receiued life:
And being neither Widow nor Maid,
nor yet a maried Wife,
Did wish that she had nere been borne.
but in her Cradle dy'd.
Then Angels at the gate of Heauen,
had crownd her Virgin bright.
This Babe that breedeth in my wombe,
(quoth she) shall nere be borne,
Nor call'd a bastard by such wiues,
that hold such loue in scorne:
For I a Strumpet in disgrace,
though one against my will,
Before I will so shame my friends,
my deare liues bloud Ile spill.
For as with wine I was deceiu'd
and made a vitious Dame,
So will I wash away with Wine
my scar et spots of shame.
Then drinking up her burning Wine,
she yeelded up her breath,
By which likewise the unborne Babe,
was scalded unto death.
Her Mother falling on her knees
to heauen did cry and call,
If euer Widowes curse quoth she,
on mortall man did fall,
Then say, Amen to mine O Lord
that he may neuer thriue.
That was the cause of this mischance,
but rot away aliue.
His nailes from off his fingers dropt,
his eyes from out his head.
His toes they roted from his feet,
before that he was dead,
His tongue that had false-sworne so oft,
to compasse his desire
Within his mouth doth glow and burne,
like coales of sparkling fire:
And thus in torment in his sinne,
this wicked Caitife dyd,
Whose hatefull Carkes after death.
in earth could not abide,
But in the mawes of Carrion Crowes,
and Rauens made a Tombe,
A vengeance iust on those that use
on such vile sinnes presume:
For Widowes curses haue full oft:
been felt by mortall wights,
And for oppressed Widowes wronges,
still heauenly Angels fights:
For when King Henry the 6 by force
was murthered in the Tower,
And his fair Queen Widow mad,
by Crooke-backt Richards power:
She so exclaimed to the heauens,
for to reuenge that deed,
That they might die in such like sort,
which caused him to bleed
Her curses so preuaild God wot,
that euery one was slaine,
Or murdered by [...]ie cruell hands,
not one there did remain.
Both Crookebackt Richard, & his mates
Lord Loue [...] and Buckingam,
With many more did feele her curse
which needlesse are to name
For widows wrongs still pierce the gate
of Gods celestiall Throne,
And heauen it selfe will still reuenge
oppressed widowes mone,
Take heed take heed, you wanton youths,
take heed by this mishap:
Lest for your lust and lechery,
you be caught in a trap.
Leaue off your foule abuses
you shew to maide and Wiues.
And by this wanton Marchants fall,
learne how to mend your liues.
FINIS.
Printed by the Assignes of Thomas Symcocke.