The most Rare and excellent History,
Of the Dutchess of Suffolks Calamity,
To the Tune of, Queen Dido.
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WHen God had taken for our sin,
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that prudent Prince K. Edward away,
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Then bloody Bonner did begin
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his raging malice to bewray:
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All those that did Gods Word profess,
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He persecuted more or less.
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Thus whilst the Lord on us did lowre,
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many in Prison he did throw,
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Tormenting them in Lollards Tower,
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whereby they might the truth forego:
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Then Cranmer, Ridley, and the rest,
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Were burning in the fire, that Christ profest.
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Smithfield was then with Faggots fill'd,
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and many places more beside,
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At Coventry was Saunders kill'd,
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at Worster eke good Hooper dy'd:
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And to escape this bloody day,
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Beyond Sea many fled away.
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Amongst the rest that sought relief,
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and for their Faith in danger stood,
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Lady Elizabeth was chief,
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King Henries Daughter of Royal blood;
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Which in the Tower did Prisoner lye,
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Looking each day when she should dye.
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The Dutchess of Suffolk seeing this,
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whose Life likewise the Tyrant sought:
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Who in the hopes of heavenly bliss,
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within Gods word her comfort wrought:
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For fear of Death was fain to flye,
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And leave her house most secretly.
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That for the love of God alone,
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her Land and Goods she left behind:
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Seeking still for that precious Stone,
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the Word and Truth so rare to find:
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She with her Nurse, Husband, and Child,
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In poor array their sighs beguil'd.
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Thus through London they passed along,
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each one did take a several street,
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Thus all along escaping wrong,
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at Billingsgate they all did meet,
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Like people poor in Gravesend-Barge.
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They simply went with all their charge.
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And all along from Gravesend-Town,
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with Journeys short on foot they went,
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Unto the Sea-coast came they down,
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to pass the Seas was their intent:
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And God provided so that day,
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That they took Ship and sail'd away.
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And with a prosperous gale of wind,
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in Flanders they did safe arrive,
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This was to their great ease of mind,
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and from their heavy hearts much woe did drive;
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And so with thanks to God on high,
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They took their way to Germany.
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Thus as they travel'd still disguis'd,
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upon the High-way suddenly,
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By cruel Thieves they were surpriz'd,
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assayling their small company:
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And all their treasures and their store
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They took away and beat them sore.
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The Nurse in midst of their fight,
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laid down the Child upon the ground,
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She ran away out of their sight,
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and never after that was found:
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Then did the Dutchess make great moan
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With her good Husband all alone.
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The Thieves had there their Horses kill'[d]
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and all their money quite had took,
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The pritty Baby almost spoil'd,
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was by the Nurse likewise forsook:
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And they far from their friends did stand,
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And succourless in a strange Land.
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The Sky likewise began to scowl.
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it Hail'd and Rain'd in piteous sort,
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The way was long and wondrous foul,
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then may I now full well report,
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Their grief and sorrow was not small,
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When this unhappy chance did fall.
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SOmetimes the Dutchess bore the Child,
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as wet as ever she could be;
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And when the Lady kind and mild
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was weary, then the Child bore he:
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And thus they one another eas'd,
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And with their fortunes well was pleas'd.
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And after many a weary step,
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all wet-shod both in dirt and mire,
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After much grief their heart yet leaps,
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for labour doth some rest require:
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A Town before them they did see,
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But Lodged there they could not be.
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From house to house then they did go,
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seeking that night where they might lye,
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But want of money was their woe,
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and still their Babe with cold did cry;
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With cap and knee they courtesie make,
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But none of them would pitty take.
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Loe here a Princess of great blood
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doth pray a Peasant for relief,
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With tears bedewed as she stood,
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yet few or none regard her grief:
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Her speech they could not understand,
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But gave her money in her hand.
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When all in vain her speeches spent,
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and that they could no house-room get,
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Into a Church-porch then they went,
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to stand out of the rain and wet:
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Then said the Dutchess to her Dear,
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O that we had some fire here.
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Then did her Husband so provide,
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that fire and coals he got with speed:
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She sat down by the Fire side,
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to dress her Daughter that had need:
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And whilst she drest it in her lap,
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Her Husband made the Infant pap.
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Anon the Sexton thither came,
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and finding them there by the fire,
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The drunken Knave, all void of shame,
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to drive them out was his desire:
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And spurned forth the Noble Dame,
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Her Husbands wrath he did inflame.
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And all in fury as he stood,
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he wrung the Church-keys out of his hand
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And struck him so that all the blood,
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his head ran down as he did stand:
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Wherefore the Sexton presently,
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For aid and help aloud did cry.
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Then came the Officers in haste,
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and took the Dutchess and her Child,
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And with her Husbsnd thus they past,
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like Lambs beset with Tygers wild;
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And to the Governour were brought,
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Who understood them not in ought.
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Then Master Bertue brave and bold,
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in Latine made a gallant speech,
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Which all their misery did unfold,
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and their high favour did beseech:
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With that a Doctor sitting by,
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Did know the Dutchess presently.
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And thereupon arising straight,
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with words abashed at this sight;
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Unto them all that there did wait,
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he thus brake forth in words aright:
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Behold within your sight, quoth he,
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A Prince of most high degree.
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With that the Governour and all the rest,
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were much amaz'd the same to hear,
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Who Welcomed this new-come Guest,
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with reverence great and Princely chear:
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And afterwards convey'd they were
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Unto their Friend, Prince Cassimere.
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A Son she had in Germany,
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Peregrine Bertue call'd by name:
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Surnam'd the good Lord Willoughby,
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of courage great and worthy fame:
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Her Daughter young that with her went,
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was afterwards Countess of Kent.
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For when Queen Mary was deceast,
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the Dutchess home return'd again,
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Who was of sorrow quite releast,
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by Queen Elizabeths happy Raign:
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Whose Godly Life and Piety,
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We may praise continually.
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