A Lamentable Ditty made on the Death of Robert Deverux Earl of Essex, who was Beheaded ithe Tower
of London, on Ash-wednesday, 1603. The Tune is Welladay.
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SWeet Englands pride is gone,
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welladay, welladay,
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Which makes her sigh and groan,
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evermore still,
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He did her fame advance,
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In Ireland Spain and France,
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And by a sad mischance,
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is from us tane.
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He was a vertuous Peer,
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weladay, etc.
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And was esteemed dear,
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evermore still.
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He always lov'd the poor,
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Which makes them sigh full sore,
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His death they did deplore,
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in every place.
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Brave honour grac'd him still,
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gallantly, gallantly,
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He ne'r did deed of ill,
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well it is known,
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But envy that foul fiend,
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Whose Malice there doth end,
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Hath brought true vertues friend,
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unto this thrall.
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At Tilt he did surpass,
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gallantly, etc,
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All men that is and was,
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evermore still,
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One day as it was seen,
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In honour of the Queen,
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Such deeds are seldome been,
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as he did do,
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Abroad and eke at home,
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gallantly, gallantly,
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For valour there was none,
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like him before,
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But Ireland France and Spain,
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That feared great Essexs name,
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But England lov'd the same,
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in every place.
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But all would not prevail,
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welladay, welladay,
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His deeds did not prevail,
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more was the pitty,
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He was condemn'd to dye,
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For Treason certainly,
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But God that sits on high,
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knoweth all things.
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That Sunday in the Morn,
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welladay, etc,
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That he to the City came
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with all his Troops.
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That first began the strife,
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And caus'd him loose his life,
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And others did the like,
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as well as he.
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Yet her Princely Majesty,
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graciously, graciously,
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Hath pardon given free,
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to many of them,
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She hath releast them quite,
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And given them their right,
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They did pray day and night,
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God to defend her.
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Shrove-Tuesday in the night,
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welladay, etc.
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With a heavy hearted spight,
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as it is said,
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The Lieutennant of the Tower,
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Who kept him in his power,
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At ten a clock that hour,
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to him did come,
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And said unto him there,
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mournfully, etc.
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Mo Lord you must prepare,
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to dye to morrow,
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Gods will be done, quoth he,
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Yet shall you strangely see,
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God strong in me to be,
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though I am weak.
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I pray you pray for me,
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welladay, etc.
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That God may strengthen me
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against that hour,
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Then straightway he did call
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To the Guard under the wall,
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And did intreat them all
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for him to pray.
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For to morrow is the day,
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welladay, etc.
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That I a debt must pay,
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which I do owe,
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It is my life I mean,
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Which I must pay the Queen,
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Even so hath justice given,
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that I must dye.
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In the morning was he brought,
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welladay, etc.
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Where the Scaffold was set up,
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within the Tower,
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Many Lords were present then,
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With other Gentlemen,
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Which were appointed then,
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to see him dye.
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You Noble Lords, quoth he,
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welladay, etc.
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That must the witness,
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of this my dream,
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Know I ne'r lov'd Papistry,
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But still doth it defie,
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And thus doth Essex dye,
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here in this place.
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I have a sinner been,
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welladay, etc.
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Yet never wrong'd my Queen,
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in all my life,
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My God I did offend,
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Which grieves me at my end,
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May all the rest amend,
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I do them forgive.
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To the state I ne'r meant ill,
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welladay, etc.
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Neither wisht the commons ill,
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in all my life:
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But lov'd with all my heart,
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And always took their part,
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Whereas there were desert,
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in every place.
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Then mildly did he pray,
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mournfully, etc.
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He might the favour have,
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private to pray,
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He then pray'd heartily,
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And with great fervency,
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To God that sits on high,
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for to receive him.
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And then he pray'd again,
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mournfully, etc.
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God to preserve his Queen,
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from all her foes.
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And send her long to reign,
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True Justice to remain,
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And not to let proud Spain,
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once to offend her,
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His Gown be stript off then
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welladay, etc.
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And put off his Hat and Band,
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and hung them by,
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Praying still continually,
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To God that sits on high,
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That he might patiently
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there suffer death.
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My Heads-man that must be,
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then said he chearfully,
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Let him come here to me,
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that I may see him,
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Who kneeled to him then,
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Art thou quoth he the Man,
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Who art appointed now,
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my life to free.
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Yes my Lord he did say,
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we[l]laday, etc.
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Forgive me I you pray,
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for this your death:
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I here do thee forgive,
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And may true justice live,
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No foul crimes to forgive,
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within this place.
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Th[en] he kneeled down again,
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welladay, etc.
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And was required by some,
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there standing by,
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To forgive his Enemies,
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Before Death clos'd his eyes,
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Which he did in hearty wise,
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thanking him for it.
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That they would remember him,
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welladay, etc.
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That he would forgive all them,
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that hath him wrong'd,
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Now my Lords I take my leave,
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Sweet Christ my Soul receive,
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Now when you will prepare,
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I am ready.
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He laid his head on the block,
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we[l]laday, etc.
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But [hi]s Doublet let the stroke,
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s[om]e there did say,
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What must be done quoth he,
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Sha[ll] be done presently,
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There [h]is Doublet off put he,
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a[nd] lay'd down again.
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Th[en] the Headsman did his part,
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cruelly, cruelly,
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He was not seen to start
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for all the blows,
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His soul is now at rest,
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In Heaven among the blest,
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W[he]re God send us to rest
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w[he]n it shall please him,
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A Lamentable Ballad on the Earl of Essex Dea[th]
The Tune is Essex, last Good Night.
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ALL you that cry O hone, Ohone,
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come now & sing O hone with me
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For why our Jewel is from us gone,
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the valiant Knight of Chivalry:
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Of rich and poor belov'd was he,
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in time an honourable Knight;
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When by our Laws condemn'd to dye,
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he lately took his last good night.
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Count him not like to Champion,
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those Traytorous men of Babington,
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Nor like the Earl of Westmerland,
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by whom a number were undone:
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He never yet hurt Mothers Son,
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his quarrel still maintains the right,
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Which makes the tears my face down run
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when I think on his last good night.
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The Portugals can witness be,
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his Dagger at Lisborn Gate he flung,
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And like a Knight of Chivalry,
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his Chain upon the gate he hung;
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I would to God that he would come
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to fetch them back in order right
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Which thing was by his honour done,
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yet lately took his last good night.
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The Frenchmen they can testifie,
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the town of Gourney he took in,
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And marcht to Rome immediately,
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not caring for his foes a pin,
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With Bullets then he pierc'd their skin
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and made them flye from his sight:
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He there that time did credit win,
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and now hath tane his last good night
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And stately Cales can witness be,
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even by his Proclamation right,
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He did command them all straightly,
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to have a care of Infants lives:
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And that none should hurt man or wife,
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which was against their right,
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Therefore they pray'd for his long life,
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which lately took his last good night.
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Would God he ne'r had Ireland known,
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nor set one foot on Flanders ground
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Then might we well injoy'd our own,
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where now our Jewel will not be found
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Which makes our foes still abound,
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trickling with salt tears in our sight,
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To hear his name in our ears to sound,
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Lord Deverux took his last good night.
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Ashwednesday that dismal day,
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when he came forth of his chamber door,
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Upon a Scaffold there he saw,
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his heads-man standing him before:
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His Nobles all they did deplore,
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sheding salt tears in his sight,
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He said farewel to rich and poor,
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at his good morrow and goodnight:
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My Lords said he you stand but by,
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to see performance of the Law,
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It is I that have deserv'd to dye.
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and yield my self unto the blow,
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I have deserv'd to dye I know,
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but ne'r against my Countries right,
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Nor to my Queen was ever foe,
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upon my death at my good night.
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Farewel Elizabeth my gracious Queen,
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God bless thee with thy council all,
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Farewel my Knights of Chivalry,
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farewel my Souldiers stout and tall.
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Farewel the Commons great and small,
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into the hands of men I light,
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My life shall make amends for all,
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for Essex bids the world good night.
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Farewel dear wife and children three,
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farewel my kind and tender son,
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Comfort your selves mourn not for me,
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although your fall be now begun,
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My time is come my glass is run,
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comfort your self in former light,
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Seeing by my fall you are undone,
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your father bids the world good night.
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Derick thou know'st at Cales I sav'd
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thy life lost for a Rape there done,
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As thou thy self can'st testifie,
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thine own hand three and twenty hung,
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But now thou seest my self is come
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by chance into thy hands I light,
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Strike out thy blow that I may know,
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thou Essex lov'd at his good night.
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When England counted me a Papist,
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the work of Papists I defie,
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I ne'r worshipt saint nor Angel in heaven
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nor the Virgin Mary I.
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But to Christ which for my sins did dye,
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trickling with Salt tears in his sight
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Spreading my arms to God on high,
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Lord Jesus receive my soul this night
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