A Lanthorne for Landlords .
To the tune of, The Duke of Norfolke .
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W Ith sobbing griefe my heart will break
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Asunder in my breast,
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Before this story of great woe,
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I truely have exprest:
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Therefore let all kind hearted men,
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And those that tender be,
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Come beare a part of this my griefe,
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and joyntly say with me,
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Wo worth the man, etc.
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Not long agoe in Lincolne dwelt,
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As I did understand,
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A labouring man from thence set forth
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to serve in Ireland :
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And there in Princes wars was slaine,
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As doth that Country know,
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But left his widow great with child
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as ever she could goe. Woe, etc.
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This woman having gone her time,
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Her husband being dead,
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Of two fine pretty Boyes at once
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was sweetly brought to bed;
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Whereat her wicked Landlord straight,
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Did ponder in his mind,
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How that their wants he should relieve,
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and succour for them find.
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For being borne upon his ground,
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This was his vile conceit,
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That he the mother should maintaine,
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and give the other meat:
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Which to prevent he hied fast,
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Unto this widdow poore,
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And on the day she went to Church,
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he turn'd her out of doore.
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Her houshold goods he straind upon,
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To satisfie the rent,
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And left her scarce a ragge to weare,
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so wilfull was he bent:
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Her pretty Babes that sweetly slept
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Upon her tender breast,
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Were forced by the Mizers rage,
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by nights in streets to rest.
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Quoth she, my husband in your cause,
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In warres did lose his life,
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And will you use thus cruelly
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his harmelesse wedded wife?
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O God revenge a widdowes wrong,
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That all the world may know,
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How you have forst a Soldiers wife
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a begging for to goe.
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From Lincolne thus this widdow went,
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But left her curse behind,
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And begged all the Land about,
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her maintenance to find:
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At many places where she came;
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She knew the whipping post,
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Constrained still as beggers be,
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to tast on such like rost.
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But weary of such punishment,
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Which she had suffered long,
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She daily thought within her heart
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she had exceeding wrong:
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And comming neere to Norwich gates,
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In griefe she sate her downe,
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Desiring God that never shee
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might come in that same Towne.
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For I had rather live, quoth she,
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Within these pleasant fields,
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And feed my children with such food,
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as woods and medowes yeeld,
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Before I will of rich men beg,
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Or crave it at their doore,
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Whose hearts I know are mercilesse
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unto the needy poore.
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The second part. To the same tune.
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H Er Boyes now growne to two yeeres old,
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Did from their Mother run
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To gather eares of Barly Corne,
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as they before had done.
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But marke what heavy chance befell
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Unto these pretty Elves,
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They happened into lands of Wheat,
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wherein they lost themselves.
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Woe, etc.
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And thinking to returne againe,
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They wandred further still,
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Far from their Mothers hearing quite,
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full sore against her will,
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Who sought them all the fields about,
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But labouring all in vaine,
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For why, her children both were lost,
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and could not come againe.
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The two sweet Babes when they perceiv'd
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The cole blacke night drew on,
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And they not in their mothers sight,
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for her did make great moane:
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But wearied with the dayes great heat,
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They sate them downe and cryed,
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Untill such time that arme in arme,
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these two sweet Infants dyed.
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Their Mother after three dayes search,
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Resolved had her minde,
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That some good honest meaning man
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did both her children finde:
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And therefore went to seeke her selfe
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A service out of hand,
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Who chanced with that man to dwell,
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which owed this green wheat land.
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It fell out so in harvest time,
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This wofull widdow then,
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Was at the reaping of the Wheat,
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with other labouring men.
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Where finding of her livelesse Babes,
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Almost consum'd away,
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She wrung her hands and beat her brest,
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but knew not what to say.
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The rumor of which wofull chance,
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Throughout the City told,
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Enforced many a weeping eye,
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the same for to behold.
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From whence she was convay'd againe
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To Lincolne backe with speed,
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To prosecute the Law against
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the causer of this deed.
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But see the Judgement of the Lord,
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How he in fury great,
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Did bring this Mizer to distresse,
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though wealthy was his seat.
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For when to Lincolne shee was brought,
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The Caitiffe he was gone,
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Of all his cursed family,
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remaining was but one.
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For first the house wherein she dwelt,
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Did prove unfortunate,
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Which made the Landlord and his friends,
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to marvell much thereat.
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For tenants foure there dwelt therein,
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A twelvemonth and a day,
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Yet none of them could thrive at all,
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but beggers went away:
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Whereat this miserable wretch
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Did turne it to a Barne
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And fild it full in harvest time,
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with good red wheat and corne.
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To keepe it safely from the poore,
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Untill there came a yeare,
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That famine might oppresse them all,
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and make all victuals deare,
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But God forgetting not the wrongs,
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He did the Widow poore,
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Sent downe a fire from heaven, which soone
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consumed all his store:
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By which this wicked mizer man,
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Was brought to beggery,
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And likewise laid a grievous scourge
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upon his family:
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His wife she prov'd a cursed witch,
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And burned for the same,
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His daughter now a Strumpet is
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at London in defame.
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At Leicester at the Sizes last,
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Was hang'd his eldest sonne,
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For their consenting wickedly
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unto a murder done.
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His second sonne was fled away
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Unto the enemy,
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And prov'd disloyall to his Prince,
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and to his owne country.
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His youngest sonne had like mishap,
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Or worser in my minde,
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For he consented to a bitch,
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contrary unto kinde,
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For which, the Lord without delay,
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Rain'd vengeance on his head,
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Who like a sinfull Sodomite
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defiled Natures bed:
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For there were two great mastive dogs
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That met him in a wood,
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And tore his limbs in pieces small,
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devouring up his blood:
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Whereof when as his father heard,
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Most like a desperate man,
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Within a channell drown'd himselfe,
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that downe the streete it ran,
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Where as water could scarce suffice,
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To drowne a silly mouse:
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And thus the ruine you have heard
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of him and all his house.
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The Widdow shee was soone possest
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Of all the goods he left,
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In recompence of those sweet Babes
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mischance from her bereft.
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Therefore let all hard-hearted men,
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By this example take,
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That God is just, and will be true,
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for wofull widowes sake.
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Woe worth the man, etc.
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