The woful Lamentation of Mistris Jane Shore, a Gold-smiths Wife
of London, sometimes King Edward the Fourth's Concubine who for her wanton life came to a miserable and. Set forth for the example of all wicked livers. Tune is, Live with me.
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IF Rosamond that was so fair,
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Had cause her sorrows to declare,
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Then let Jane Shore with sorrow sing,
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That was beloved of a King:
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Then wanton Wives in time amend,
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For love and beauty will have end.
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In Maiden years my beauty bright,
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Was loved dear of Lord and Knight
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But yet the love that they requir'd,
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It Was not as my friends desir'd:
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My Parents they for thirst of gain,
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A husband for me did obtain,
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And I their pleasure to fulfil,
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Was forc'd to wed against my will:
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To Matthew Shore I was a wife,
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Till lust brought ruine to my life,
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And then my life so lewdly spent,
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Which makes my soul for to lament:
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In Lumbard-street I once did dwell,
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As London yet can witness well,
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Where many gallants did behold
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My beauty in a shop of Gold:
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I spread my plumes as wantons do,
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Some sweet and secret friend to woo,
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Because my love I did not find,
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Agreeing to my wanton mind.
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At last my name in Court did ring,
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Into the ears of Englands King,
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Who came and lik'd and love requir'd,
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But I made coy what he desir'd:
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Yet Mistress Blague a neighbour neer
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Whose friendship I esteemed dear,
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Did say it was a gallant thing,
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To be beloved of a King.
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By her perswasions I was led,
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For to defile my marriage-bed,
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and wrong my wedded husband Shore,
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Whom I had lov'd ten years before;
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In heart and mind I did rejoyce,
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That I had made so sweet a choice,
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And therefore did my state resign,
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To be King Edwards Concubine;
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From City then to Court I went,
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To reap the pleasures of content,
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And had the joys that love could bring,
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And knew the secrets of a King:
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When I was thus advanc'd on high,
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Commanding Edward with mine eye,
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For Mistris Blague I in short space
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Obtain'd a living of his Grece.
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No friend I had but in short time
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I made unto promotion climb:
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But yet for all this costly pride,
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My husband could not me abide:
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His bed though wronged by a King,
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His heart with grief did deadly sting.
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From England then he goes away,
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To end his life upon the Sea,
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He could not live to see his name
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Impared by my wanton shame,
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Although a Prince of Peerless might,
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Did reap the pleasures of his right.
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Long time I lived in the Court,
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With Lords and Ladies of great sort,
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For when I smil'd all men were glad,
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But when I mourn'd my Prince grew sad.
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But yet an honest mind I bore,
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To helpless people that were poor,
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I still redrest the Orphans cry,
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And sav'd their lives condemn'd to die
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I still had ruth on Widdows tears,
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I succour'd babes of tender years,
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And never lookt for other gain,
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But love and thanks for all my pain.
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At last my Royal King did dye,
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And then my days of woe grew nigh,
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When Crook-back Richard got the crown
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King Edwards friends were soon put down
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I then was punisht for my sin,
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That I so long had lived in.
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Yea, every one that was his friend,
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This Tyrant brought to shameful end.
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Then for my rude and wanton life,
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That made a strumpet of a Wife,
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I pennance did in Lumbard-street,
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In shameful manner in a sheet.
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Where many thousands did me view,
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Who late in Court my credit knew,
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Which made the tears run down my face
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To think upon my foul disgrace:
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Not thus content they took from me
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My Goods my livings, and my Fee,
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& charg'd that none should me relieve,
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Nor any succour to me give.
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Then unto Mistris Blauge I went,
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To whom my jewels I had sent,
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In hope thereby to ease my want,
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when riches fail'd and love grew scant:
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But she deny'd to me the same,
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When in my need for them I came.
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To recompence my former love,
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Out of her doors she did me shove;
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So love did vanish with my state,
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Which now my soul repents too late;
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Therefore example take by me,
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For friendship parts in poverty.
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But yet one friend among the rest,
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Whom I before had seen distrest,
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And sav'd his life condemn'd to dye,
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Did give me food to succour me,
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For which by law it was decreed,
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That he was hanged for that deed:
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His death did grieve me so much more
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Then had I dyed my self therefore:
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Then those to whom I had done good,
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Durst not restore me any food;
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Where by in vain I beg'd all day,
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And still in streets by night I lay.
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My Gowns beset with Peal and gold,
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Are turn'd to simple garments old;
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My chains and jems and golden rings,
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To filthy rags and loathsome things,
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Thus was I scorn'd of Maid and wife
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For leading such a wicked life;
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Both sucking babes and children small,
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Did make a pastime at my fall;
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I could not get one bit of bread,
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Whereby my hunger might be fed:
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Nor drink but such as channels yield,
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Or stinking ditches in the field:
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Thus weary of my life at length,
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I yielded up my vital strength.
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Within a Ditch of loathsome scent,
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Where carrion dogs do much frequet
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The which now since my dying day,
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Is Shoreditch cal'd as writers say:
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Which is a witness of my sin,
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For being Concubine to a King:
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You wanton Wives that fall to lust,
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Be you assur'd that God is just,
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Whoredom shall not escape his hand,
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Nor Pride unpunisht in this Land;
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If God to me such shame should bring,
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That yielded only to a King:
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How shall they scape that daily run,
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To practice sin with every man?
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You Husbands match not but for love,
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Lest some disliking after prove;
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Women be warn'd when you are wives
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What plagues are due to sinful lives:
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Then Maids & Wives in time amend
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For love and beauty will have end.
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The second part of Jane Shore, wherein her sorrowful Husband bewaileth his own estate, and Wives wantonness, the wrong of Marriage, the fall of pride, being a warning for all women.
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IF she that was fair Londons pride
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For beauty fam'd both far and wide
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With swanlike song in sadness told,
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Her deep distresses manifold.
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Then in the same let me also,
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Now bear a part of such like woe:
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Kind Matthew Shore men called me,
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A Goldsmith once of good degree,
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And might have lived long therein,
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Had not my wife been wed to sin.
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Ah gentle Jane thy wanton race,
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Hath brought me to this foul disgrace.
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Thou hadst all things at wish and will
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Thy wanton fancy to fulfill,
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No London dame, nor Merchants wife
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Did lead so sweet and pleasant Life.
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Then gentle Jane the truth report,
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Why left'st thou me to live in Court?
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Thou hadst both Gold and Silver store,
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No wife in London then had more;
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And once a week to walk in field,
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To see what pleasure it would yield.
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But woe to me that liberty,
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Hath brought me to this misery:
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I married thee whilst thou wert young
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Before thou knew'st what did belong,
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To husbands love or marriage state,
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Which now my soul repents too late:
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Thus wanton Pride made thee unjust,
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And so deceived was my trust.
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But when the King possest my Room,
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And cropt my Rosie gallant bloom,
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Fair Londons blossom and my joy
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My heart was drown'd in deep annoy:
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To think how unto publique shame,
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Thy wicked life brought my good name
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And then I thought each man and wife,
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In jesting sort accus'd my life,
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And every one to the other said,
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That Shores fair wife the wanton plaid
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Thereby in mind I grew to change.
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My dwelling in some country strange,
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My Lands and Goods I sold away,
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And so from England went to Sea;
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Opyrest with grief and woful mind,
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But left my cause of grief behind.
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My loving Wife whom I once thought,
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Would never be to lewdness brought,
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But women now I well espy,
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Are subject to unconstancy;
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And few there be so true of love,
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But by long suit will wanton prove,
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For flesh is frail and women weak.
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When Kings for love long suit do make
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But yet from England my depart,
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Was with a sad and heavy heart,
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Whereat when as my leave I took,
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I sent back many a heavy look,
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Desiring God if it might be,
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To send one sigh sweet Jane to thee.
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For if thou hadst but constant been,
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These days of woe I ne'r had seen,
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But yet I mourn and grieve full sore,
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To think what plagues are left in store,
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For such as careless tread awry;
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The modest paths of constancy:
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Ah gentle Jane if thou did'st know,
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The uncouth paths I daily go,
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And woful tears for thee I shed,
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For wronging thus my Marriage-bed.
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Then sure I am thou would'st confess,
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My love was sure though in distress:
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Both Flanders, France, and Spain I past
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And came to Turky at the last:
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And there within that mighty Court,
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I lived long in honest sort;
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Desiring God that sits in Heaven,
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That Lovers sins might be forgiven:
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And there advanc'd thy loving name,
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Of living wights the fairest Dame?
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The praise of Englands beauty stain,
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All which thy Husband did maintain,
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And set thy Picture there in Gold,
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For Kings & Princes to behold,
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But when I thought upon thy sin,
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Thy wanton thoughts delighted in
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I griev'd that such a comely face,
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Should hold true honour in disgrace,
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And counted it a luckless day,
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When as thou first did'st go astray,
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Desiring then some news to hear,
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Of her my soul did love so dear,
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My secrets then I did impart,
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To one well skill'd in Magick art,
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Who in a Glass did truly show,
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Such things as I desir'd to know.
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I there did see thy Courtly state,
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Thy Pomp, thy Pride, thy Glory great
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And likewise there I did behold,
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My Jane in Edwards arms infold:
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Thy secret love I there espy'd,
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Thy vice, thy fall, and how thou died;
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Thy naked body in the street,
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I saw do penance in a sheet:
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Barefoot before the Beadles wand,
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With burning Taper in thy hand,
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And Babes not having use of tongue,
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Stood pointing as thou went'st along,
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Thus ended was the shame of thine,
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Though God gave yet no end to mine.
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When I suppos'd my name forgot,
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And time had washt away my blot,
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And in another Princes Reign,
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I came to England back again:
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But staying there my friends decay'd,
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My Princes laws I disobey'd,
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And by true Justice judg'd to dye,
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For clipping Gold in secresie.
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By Gold was my best living made,
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And so by Gold my life decay'd:
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Thus have you heard the woful strife
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That came by my unconstant Wife,
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Her Fall, my Death, wherein is shew'd
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The story of a Strumpet Lew'd.
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In hope thereby some women may
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take heed how they the wanton play.
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The Description
OF
Jane Shore
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THis womans
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beauty hath
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been highly prai-
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sed by a famous
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Writer that lived
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in her time, named
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Thomas Moor,
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who described her
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in this manner.
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Before her death
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she was poor and
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aged, her stature
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was mean, her hair
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of a dark yellow,
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her face round &
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full, her eyes gray,
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her Body fat,
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white, and smooth
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her countenance
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chearful, like to
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her conditions.
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There is a picture
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of hers to be seen
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in London, it is
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such as she was
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when she rose out
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of her bed in the
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morning, having
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nothing on but a
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Rich Mantle cast
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under her arm, o-
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ver which her na-
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ked arm did lye.
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What her Fa-
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thers name is, o-
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where she was
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Born, is not cer-
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tainly known, but
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her Husband Ma-
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thew Shore, a
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Young Man of
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right good paren
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tage, wealth, and
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behaviour, aban-
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doned her bed af-
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ter the King had
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made her his con
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cubine.
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