An Admirable New [?] Northern Story
Of two constant Lovers as I understand,
Were born near Appleby in Westmoreland;
The Lads name Anthony, Constance the Lass,
To Sea they went both and great dangers did pass:
How they sufferd shipwrack on the Coast of Spain
For two years divided, and then met a[g]ain,
By wonderfull fortune and care accident,
And now both live at home with joy and content.
The Tune is I would thou wert in Shrewsbury.
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TWo Lovers in the North,
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Constance and Anthony,
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Of them I will set forth
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a gallant History;
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They lovd exceeding well,
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as plainly doth appear;
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But that which I shall tell,
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the like you ner did hear.
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Still she crys Anthony,
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my bonny Anthony,
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Gang thou by Land or Sea,
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Ill wend along with thee.
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Anthony must to Sea,
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his Calling did him bind,
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My Constance, Dear, quoth he,
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I must leave thee behind.
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I prithee do not grieve,
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thy tears will not prevail:
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Ill think on thee, my Sweet,
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when the Ships under Sail.
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But still, etc.
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oHw may that be? said he,
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consider well the case:
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Quoth she, sweet Anthony,
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Ill bide not in this place.
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If thou gang, so will I,
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of the means do not doubt:
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A Womans policy
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great matters may find out:
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My bonny Anthony, etc.
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I would be very glad,
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but prithee tell me how?
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Ill dress me like a Lad,
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what sayst thou to me now?
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The Sea thou canst no[t] brook,
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yes very well, quoth she,
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Ill Scullion to the Cook
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for thy sweet company.
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My bonny, etc.
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Anthonys leave she had,
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and drest in Mans array,
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She seemd the blithest Lad
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seen on a Summers Day.
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O see what Love can do,
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at home she will not bide:
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With her true Love shell go,
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let weal or woe betide.
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My dearest, etc.
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In the Ship twas her Lott
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to be the under Cook;
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And at the Fire hot,
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wonderful pains she took:
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She served ery one,
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fitting to their degree;
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And now and then alone,
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she kissed Anthony.
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My bonny Anthony,
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my bonny Anthony,
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Gang thou by Land or Sea,
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Ill wend along with thee.
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ALack and weladay,
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[?] on the Main,
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There S[h]ip [was] cast away
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upon the Coast of Spain;
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To [the] mercy of the Waves,
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t[h]ey all committed [wer]e,
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Constance h[er] o[w]n self saves,
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then she crys for her dear,
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My bonny Anthony,
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my bonny Anthony,
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Gang thou by Land or Sea,
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Ile wend along with thee.
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Swimming upon a Plank,
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at Bilbo she got ashore
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First she did heaven thank,
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then she lamented sore,
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O woe is me, said she,
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the saddest Lass alive,
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My dearest Anthony,
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now on the Sea doth drive.
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My bonny, etc.
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What shall become of me,
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why do I strive for shore,
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Sith my sweet Anthony,
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I never shall see more?
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Fair Constance do not grieve,
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the same good providence,
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Hath savd thy lover sweet,
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but he is far from hence,
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Still, etc.
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A Spanish Merchant rich,
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s[?] this fa[i]r seeming Lad,
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That did lament so much,
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and was so grevious sad,
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He had in England been
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and English understood,
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He having heard and seen,
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he in amazement stood:
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Still, etc.
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The Merchant asked her,
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what was that Anthony,
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Quoth she, my Brother Sir,
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who came from thence with me:
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He did her entertain,
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thinking she was a Boy,
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Two years she did remain,
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before she met her joy.
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Still, etc.
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Anthony up was tane
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by an English Runagade,
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With whom he did remain,
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at the Sea-roving trade:
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Ith nature of a slave,
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he did ith Galley row,
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Thus he his life did save,
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but Constance did not know:
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Sill she cryes Anthony,
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my bonny Anthony,
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Gang thou by Land or Sea,
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Il wend along with thee.
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Now mark what came to pass,
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see how the fates did work,
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A Ship that her Mastere was,
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suprizd this English Turk,
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And into Bilbo brought
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all that aboard her were.
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Constance still little thought,
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Anthony was so near.
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Still, etc.
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When they were come on shore
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Anthony and the rest,
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She who was sad before,
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was now with joy possest,
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The Merchant much did muse,
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at this so sudden change,
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He did demand the News,
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which unto [hi]m was strange:
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Now she, etc.
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Upon her knees she fell,
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unto her Master kind,
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And all the truth did tell,
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nothing she kept behind:
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At which he did admire,
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and in a ship of Spain,
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Not paying for their hire,
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he sent them home again.
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Now she, etc.
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The Spanish Merchant rich,
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did ofs own bounty give
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A sum of Gold on which
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they now most bravely live:
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And now in Westmoreland,
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they were joynd hand in hand
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Constancy and Anthony,
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they live in mirth and glee,
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Now she says Anthony,
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my bonny Anthony,
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Good providence we see,
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hath guarded thee and me.
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