[Th]e Lamentable fall of Queen Elenor, who for her Pride and wickedness, by Gods
[J]udgements sunk into the ground at Charing-Cross, and rose at Queen-Hith. Tune of, Gentle and courteous.
|
When Edward was in England King,
|
the first of all that name,
|
[Proud] Elenor he made his Queen,
|
__________ Spanish Dame:
|
[Whose] wicked life in sinful pride,
|
th[e] [which] England did excel
|
To dainty dames and gallant maids,
|
______ Queen was known ful well.
|
________ first that did invent
|
in _____ brave to ride,
|
____________ first that brought this Land
|
to deadl[y] Sin and Pride:
|
____ English Taylor here could serve
|
to make her rich attire,
|
______ sent ____ Taylors into Spain,
|
[?] ed [her] vain desire.
|
They brou[gh]t in fashions strange and new
|
with go[ld]en garments bright,
|
The [farthing]gale and mighty Ruff,
|
with [Go]wns of Rich delight:
|
____ Lon[d]on Dames in Spanish pride,
|
_________ th every where;
|
__________ =men like women then,
|
_______ ong locks of Hair.
|
_____nd Child, both Maid and wife,
|
_____ oon'd in pride of Spain,
|
_________ the Spanish Taylors there
|
our English men did stain:
|
Whereat the Queen did much despite,
|
to see our English men,
|
In vestures clad as brave to see,
|
as any Spaniard then.
|
She crav'd the King that every man
|
that wore long locks of Hair,
|
Might then be cut and poled all
|
or shaved very near:
|
Whereat the King did seem content,
|
and soon thereto agreed,
|
And first commanded that his own,
|
shou'd then be cut with speed.
|
And after that to please his Queen,
|
proclaimed through the Land,
|
That every man that wore long hair
|
should pole him out of hand:
|
But yet this Spaniard not content,
|
to women bore a spight,
|
And then requested of the King,
|
against all Law and right.
|
That every woman=kind should have
|
their right Breast cut away,
|
And then with burning Irons sear'd,
|
the blood to stanch and stay:
|
King Edward then perceiveing well,
|
her [s]pight to womenkind
|
Devised soon by policy,
|
to turn her bloody mind.
|
He sent for burning Irons streight,
|
all sparkling hot to see,
|
And said, O Queen come on thy way,
|
I will begin with thee:
|
Which words did much displease the Queen
|
that pennance to begin,
|
But askt him pardon on her knees,
|
who gave her grace therein.
|
But afterwards she chanc'd to pass
|
along brave London streets:
|
Whereas the Mayor of London wife,
|
in stately sort she meets:
|
With musick, mirth and melody,
|
unto the Church they went,
|
To give god thanks that to'th Lord Mayor
|
a Noble Son had sent.
|
It grieved much this spightful Queen,
|
to see that any one,
|
Should so exceed in mirth and joy,
|
except herself alone
|
For which she after did devise,
|
within her bloody mind,
|
And practis'd still most secretly,
|
to kill this Lady kind.
|
UNto the Mayor of London then
|
she sent her Letters straight,
|
To send his Lady to the Court
|
upon her Grace to wait:
|
But when the London Lady came
|
before proud Elenors face,
|
She stript her from her Rich array,
|
and kept her vile and base.
|
She sent her unto Wales with speed,
|
and kept her secret there,
|
And us'd her still most cruelly,
|
that every man did hear;
|
She madt her wash she made her startch
|
she made her drudge alway,
|
She made her nurse up children small,
|
and labour night and day.
|
But this contented not the Queen,
|
she shewed her most dispight,
|
She bound this Lady to a Post,
|
at twelve a clock at Night:
|
And as poor Lady she stood bound,
|
the Queen in angry mood,
|
Did set two Snakes unto her Breast,
|
that suckt away her blood.
|
Thus dyed the Mayor of Londons wife,
|
most grievious for to hear,
|
which made the Spaniard grow more proud
|
as after shall appear:
|
The food that fed this stately Dame,
|
was boyl'd in costly Wines.
|
The water that did spring from ground,
|
she would not touch at all,
|
But wash'd her hands with dew of Heaven,
|
that one sweet Roses fall:
|
She bath'd her body many a time,
|
in Fountains fill'd with milk,
|
And every day did change attire,
|
in costly meadian Silk.
|
But coming then to London back,
|
within her coach of Gold,
|
A tempest strange within the skies,
|
this Queen did there behold,
|
Out of which storm she could not go,
|
but there remaind a space,
|
Four Horses could not stir the coach,
|
a foot out of the place.
|
A judgment lately sent from Heaven,
|
for shedding guiltless blood,
|
Upon this sinful Queen that slew,
|
the London Lady good:
|
King Edward then as wisdom mil'd,
|
accus'd her of that deed,
|
But she deny'd and wisht that God
|
would send his wrath with speed.
|
If that upon so vile a thing,
|
her heart did ever think,
|
She wisht the ground might open wide,
|
and she therein might sink:
|
With that at Charing-Cross she sunk,
|
into the ground alive,
|
And after rose with life again,
|
in London at Queen-hive.
|
When after that she languisht sore,
|
full twenty days in pain,
|
At last confest the Ladies blood,
|
her guilty hand had slain:
|
And likewise how that by a fryer,
|
she had a base born Child,
|
Whose sinful Lusts and wickedness,
|
her marriage bed defil'd.
|
Thus have you heard the fall of pride,
|
a just Reward of Sin,
|
For those that will forswear themselves,
|
Gods vengeance daily:
|
Beware of Pride ye London Dames,
|
both Wifes and Maidens all
|
Bear this imprinted in your minds.
|
|
|
|
|
|