Constance of Cleveland.
A very excellent Sonnet of the most faire Lady Constance of Clevelan[d]
and her disloyall Knight. To the tune of Crimson Velvet.
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IT was a youthfull Knight,
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lov'd a gallant Lady,
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Faire she was and bright,
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and of vertues rare:
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Her selfe she did behave
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so courteously as may be,
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Wedded were they brave,
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joy without compare.
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Here began the griefe,
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Paine without reliefe,
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her husband soone her love forsooke,
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To women lewd of mind
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Being bad inclin'd,
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he onely lent a pleasant looke:
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The Lady she sate weeping,
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While that he was keeping
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company with others moe:
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Her words, my Love, believe not,
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Come to me and grieve not,
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Wantons will thee overthrow.
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His faire Ladies words
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nothing he regarded,
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Wantonnesse affords
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such delightfull sport:
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While they dance and sing,
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with great mirth prepared,
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She her hands did wring
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in most grievous s[oo]rt.
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Oh what hap had I
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Thus to waile and cry,
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unrespected every day:
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Living in disdaine,
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While that others gaine
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all the right I should enjoy?
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I am left forsaken,
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Others they are taken,
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ah my Love, why dost thou so?
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Her flatteries beleeve not, etc.
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The Knight with his faire Piece,
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at length his Lady spied,
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Who did him daily fleece
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of his wealth and store:
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Secretly she stood,
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while she her fashions tried,
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With a patient mood,
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while deepe the Strumpet swore:
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O sir Knight, quoth she,
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So dearely I love thee,
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my life doth rest at thy dispose,
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By day and eke by night,
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For thy sweet delight,
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thou shalt me in thy armes disclose.
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I am thine owne for ever,
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Still will I persever
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true to thee where ere I goe.
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Her flatteries beleeve not, etc.
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The vertuous Lady mild
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enters then among them,
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Being big with child,
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as ever she might be.
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With distilling teares
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she looked then upon them,
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Filled full of feares,
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thus replied she:
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Ah my Love and Deare,
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Wherefore stay you here,
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refusing me your loving wife,
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For an Harlots sake,
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Which each one will take,
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whose vile deeds provoke much strife:
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Many can accuse her,
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O my Love refuse her,
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with thy Lady home returne:
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Her flatteries beleeve not,
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Come to me and grieve not, etc.
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All in fury then
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the angry Knight upstarted
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Very furious, when
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he heard his Ladies speech:
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With many bitter termes
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his wife he overthwarted,
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Using hard extremes,
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while she did him beseech.
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From her necke so white,
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He tooke away in spight
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her curious chaine of finest gold,
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Her Jewels and her Rings,
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And all such costly things,
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as he about her did behold.
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The Harlot in her presence,
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He did gently reverence,
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and to her he gave them all
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He sent away his Lady,
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Full of woe as may be,
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who in a sound with griefe did fall.
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The second part, To the same tune.
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AT his Ladies wrong
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the Harlot fleer'd and laughed,
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Inticements are so strong,
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they over-come the wife:
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The Knight nothing regarded,
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to see the Lady scoffed,
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This was her reward,
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for her enterprise.
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The Harlot all this space
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Did him oft imbrace,
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she flatters him, and thus doth say,
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For thee Ile die and live,
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For thee my faith Ile give,
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no woe shall work my Loves decay.
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Thou shalt be my treasure,
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Thou shalt be my pleasure,
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thou shalt be my hearts delight:
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I will be thy darling,
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I will be thy worldling,
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in despight of Fortunes spight.
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Thus he did remaine
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in wastfull great expences,
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Till it bred his paine,
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and consum'd him quite:
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When his Lands were spent,
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troubled in his senses,
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Then he did repent
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this his lewd delight:
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For reliefe he hies,
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For reliefe he flies,
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to them on whom he spent his gold,
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They doe him deny,
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They doe him defie,
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they will not once his face behold.
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Being thus distressed,
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Being thus oppressed,
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in the fields that night he lay,
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Which the Harlot knowing,
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Through her malice growing,
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sought to take his life away.
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A young and proper Lad,
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they had slaine in secret,
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For the gold he had:
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whom they did convey,
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By a Ruffian lewd,
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to that place directly,
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Where that youthfull Knight
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fast a sleeping lay:
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The bloody dagger than,
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Wherewith they kill'd the man,
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hard by the Knight he likewise laid,
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Sprinkling him with blood,
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As he thought it good,
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and then no longer there he staid.
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The Knight being so abused,
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Was forthwith accused
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for this murther which was done,
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And he was condemned,
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That had not offended,
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shamefull death he might not shun.
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When the Lady bright
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understood the matter,
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That her wedded Knight
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was condemn'd to die,
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To the King she went
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with all the speed that might be,
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Where she did lament
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her hard destiny:
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Noble King, quoth she,
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Pitty take on me,
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and pardon my poore husbands life,
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Else I am undone,
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With my little son,
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let mercy mitigate this griefe.
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Lady faire, content thee,
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Soone thou wouldst repent thee,
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if he should be saved so:
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Sore he hath abus'd thee,
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Sore he hath misus'd thee,
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therefore Lady let him goe.
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O my Liege, quoth she,
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grant your gracious favor,
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Deare he is to me,
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though he did me wrong:
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The King repli'd againe,
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with a sterne behaviour,
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A Subject hee hath slaine,
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die he shall ere long,
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Except thou canst find
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Any one so kind,
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that will die and set him free.
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Noble King, she said,
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Glad am I apaid,
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the same person will I bee,
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I will suffer duely,
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I will suffer truely,
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for my Love and husbands sake.
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The King therefore amazed,
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Though he her duty praised,
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he bade that thence he should her take.
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It was the Kings command,
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on the morrow after,
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She should out of hand,
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to the Scaffold goe:
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Her husband pointed was,
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to beare the sword before her,
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He must eke alas,
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give the deadly blow:
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He refus'd the deed,
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Shee bade him proceed,
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with a thousand kisses sweet.
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In this wofull case,
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They did both imbrace
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which mov'd the Ruffian in that place
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Straight for to discover
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This concealed murther,
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whereby the Lady saved was,
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The Harlot then was hanged,
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As shee well deserved,
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this [did v]ertue bring to passe.
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FINIS.
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