Courtly new Ballad of the Princely wooing of the faire Maid of London, by King Edward.
To the tune of, Bonny sweet Robbin.
FAaire Angell of England, thy beauty most bright'
Is all my hearts treasure my ioy and delight:
Then grant me sweet Lady thy true Love to be,
That I may say welcome good fortune to me.
The Turtle so true and chast in her love,
By gentle perswasions her fancy will move:
Then ben of intreated swéet Lady in vaine,
For Nature requireth what I would obtaine.
What Phenix so faire that liveth alone,
Is vowed to chastity being but one?
But be not my Darling so chaste in desire,
Lest thou like the Phenix do penance in fire.
But alas (gallant Lady) I pitty thy state,
In [...]e [...]g refolved to live without mate:
For if of our courting the pleasure you knew,
You shall have a liking the same to ensue.
Long time I have sued the same to obtaine,
Yet am I requited with scornefull disdaine:
But if you will grant your good will to me,
You shall be advanced to Princely degree.
Promotions and honours may often entice
The chasest that liveth, though never so nice;
What woman so worthy but will be contenc,
To live in the Palace where Princes frequent?
Two Brides yong & princely to Church have I led,
Two Ladies most lovely have decked my bed:
Yet hath thy love taken more root in my heart,
Than all their contentments whereof I had part.
Your gentle hearts cannot mens teares much abide,
And women least angry when most they do chide:
Then yeeld to me kindly and say that at length,
Men doe want mercy, and poore women strength.
I grant faire Ladies may poore men resist,
But Princes will conquer and love whom they list:
A King may command her to lie by his side,
Whose feature deserveth to be a Kings Bride.
In granting your love you shall purchase renowne,
Your head shalbe deckt with Englands faire crown,
Thy garment most gallant with gold shalbe wroght
If true love for treasure of thée may be bought.
Great Ladies of honour shall tend on thy traine,
Most richly attired with scarlet in graine:
My chamber most Princely thy person shall keepe,
Where Virgins with musicke shal rocke thee asléep.
If any more pleasures thy heart can invent,
Command them swéet Lady thy mind to content:
For Kings gallant Courts where Princes do dwel
Afford such sweet pastimes as Ladies love wel.
Then be not resolved to dye a true Maid,
But print in thy bosome the words I have said:
And grant a King favour thy true love to be,
That I may say welcome sweet Virgin to me.
The faire Maid of Londons answer to King Edwards wanton Love.
To the same tune.
OH wanton King Edward thy labour is vaine,
To follow the pleasure thou canst not attaine,
Which getting thou losest, and having dost wast it
The which is thou purchase is spoil'd if thou hast it:
But if thou obtainst it thou nothing hast won,
And I losing nothing yet quite am undone,
But if of that Iewell a King doe deceive me,
No King can restore though a Kingdom he give me.
My colour is changed since you saw me last,
My favour is vanisht, my beauty is past
The Roses red blushes that sate on my cheekes,
To palenesse are turned, which all men mislikes.
I passe not what Princes for love doe protest,
The name of a Virgin contenteth me best:
I have not deserved to sléepe by thy side,
Nor to be accounted for King Edwards bride.
The name of a Princesse I never did crave,
No such tipe of honour thy hand-maid will have,
My brest shall not harbour so lofty a thought,
Nor be with rich proffers to wantonnesse brought.
If wild wanton Rosamond one of our sort,
Had never frequented King Henries brave Court:
Such heapes of déepe sorrow she never had seene,
Nor tasted the rage of a iealous Quéene.
All men have their freedome to shew their intent,
They win not a woman except she consent:
Who then can impute to a man any fault▪
Who still goes uprightly while women doe halt.
'Tis counted kindnesse in men for to try,
And vertue in women the same to deny:
For women inconstant can never be prov'd,
Vntill by their betters therein they be mov'd.
If women and modesty once doe but sever,
Then farewell good name and credit for ever
And royall King Edward let me be exil [...]e,
Ere any man knowes my body's defil'd.
No, no, my old Fathers reverent teares,
Too déepe an impression within my soule beares:
Nor shall his bright honour that blot by me have,
To bring his gray haires with griefe to the grave.
The heavens forbid that when I should dye,
That any such sinne upon my soule lye:
If I have kept me from doing this sinne.
My heart shall not yéeld with a Prince to beginne.
Come rather with pitty to weepe on my Tombe,
Then for my birth curse my deare mothers Womb,
That brought forth a blossome that strained the trée,
With wanton desires to sh [...]me her and me.
Leave me (most noble King) tempt not in vaine,
My milk-whiie affections with lewonesse to stain:
Though England will give me no comfort at ail,
Yet England shall yéeld me a sad buriall.
FINIS.
London Printed for Henry Gosson.