A Lanthorne for Landlords.
To the tune of the Duke of Norfolke.
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WIth sobbing grief my heart wil break
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Asunder in my brest,
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Before this story of great woe,
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I truely have exprest:
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Therefore let all kind-hearted men,
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And those that tender be,
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Come beare a part of this my griefe,
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and joyntly say with me,
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Woe worth the man, etc.
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Not long agoe in Lincolne dwelt,
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As I did understand,
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A labouring man from thence set forth,
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to serve in Ireland:
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And there in Princes warres was slaine,
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As doth that Country know,
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But left his widdow great with child
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as ever she could goe,
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This woman having gone her time,
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Her husband being dead,
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Of two fine pretty Boyes at once
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was sweetly brought to bed,
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Whereat her wicked Landlord straight,
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Did ponder in his minde,
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How that their wants hee must relieve,
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and succour for them finde
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For being borne upon his ground,
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This was his vile conceit,
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That he the mother should maintaine,
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and give the other meat:
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Which to prevent he hyed fast,
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unto this widdow poore,
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And on the day she went to Church,
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he turnd her out of doore,
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Her houshold goods he straynd upon,
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To satisfie the rent,
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And left her scarce a ragge to weare,
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so wilfull was he bent.
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Her pretty Babes that sweetly slept
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Upon her tender brest,
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Were forced by the Misers rage,
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by nights in streets to rest:
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Quoth she, my husband in your cause,
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In warres did lose his life,
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And will you use thus cruelly
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his harmelesse wedded wife?
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O God revenge a widdowes wrong,
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That all the world may know,
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How you have forst a Souldiers wife,
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a begging for to goe.
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From Lincolne thus this widdow went,
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But left her curse behind,
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And begged all the Land about,
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her maintenance to find:
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At many places where she came,
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She knew the whipping post,
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Constrained still as beggers be,
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to taste on such like rost.
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Aut weary of such punishment,
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Which shee had suffered long,
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She daily thought within her heart,
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shee had exceeding wrong:
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And comming neere to Norwich gates,
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In griefes shee sate her downe,
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Desiring God that never shee
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might come in that same Towne,
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For I had rather live, quoth shee,
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Within these pleasant fields,
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And feed my children with such food,
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as woods and meddowes yeeld,
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Before I will of rich men beg,
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Or crave it at their doore,
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Whose hearts I know are mercilesse
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unto the needy poore.
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The second part, To the same tune.
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HEr Boys now grown to two yeeres old
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Did from their mother run,
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To gather eares of Barly Corne,
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as they before had done,
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But marke what heavy chance befell
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Unto these pretty Elves;
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They hapned into Lands of Wheat
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wherein they lost themselves.
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Woe worth, etc.
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And thinking to returne againe,
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They wandred further still,
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Farre from their mothers hearing quite,
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full sore against her will,
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Who sought them all the fields about,
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But labouring all in [v]aine,
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For why, her children both were lost,
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and could not come againe.
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The two sweet babes when they perceivd
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The cole-blacke night drew on,
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And they not in their mothers sight,
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for her did make great mone:
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But wearied with the dayes great heat,
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They sate them downe and cryed,
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Untill such time that arme in arme,
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these two sweet infants dyed.
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Their mother after three dayes search,
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Resolved had her mind,
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That some good honest meaning man
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did both her children find:
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And therefore went to seeke her selfe
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A service out of hand,
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Who chanced with that man to dwell,
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which owed this greene wheat land.
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It fell out so in harvest time,
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This woefull widdow then,
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Was at the reaping of the Wheate,
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with other labouring men,
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Where finding of her livelesse babes,
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Almost consumd away,
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Shee wrung her hands and beat her brest
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but knew not what to say.
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The rumor of which woefull chance,
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Throughout the City told,
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Enforced many a weeping eye,
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the same for to behold.
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From whenre shee was conveyd againe
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To Lincolne backe with speed,
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To prosecute the Law against
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the causer of this deed.
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But see the judgement of the Lord,
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How hee in fury great,
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Did bring this Mizer to distresse,
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though wealthy was his seat.
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For when to Lincolne shee was brought,
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The Caitiffe hee was gone,
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Of all his cursed family,
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remaining was but one,
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For first the house wherein shee dwelt,
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Did prove unfortunate,
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Which made the Landlord & his friends,
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to marvell much thereat.
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For tenants foure there dwelt therein
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A twelve month and a day,
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Yet none of them could thrive at all.
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but beggers went away:
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Whereas this miserable wretch
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Did turne it to a barne,
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And fild it full in harvest time,
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with good red wheat and corne,
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To keep it safely from the poore,
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Untill there came a yeere,
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That famine might oppresse them all,
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and make all victuals deare,
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But God forgetting not the wrong,
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He did the Widdow poore,
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Sent downe a fire from heaven,
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consumed all his store:
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By which this wicked mizer man,
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Was brought to beggery,
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And likewise laid a grievous scourge
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upon his family:
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His wife shee provd a cursed witch.
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And burned for the same,
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His daughtrr now a Strumpet is,
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at London in defame,
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At Leister at the Sizes last,
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Was hanged his eldest sonne,
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For there consenting wickedly
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unto a murder done.
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His second sonne was fled away
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Unto the enemy,
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And provd disloyall to his Prince,
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and to his owne Country.
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His yongest sonne had like mishap,
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Or worser in my mind,
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For hee consented to a bitch,
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contrary unto kind,
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For which, the Lord without delay,
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Raind vengeance on his head,
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Who like a sinnefull Sodomite
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defiled Natures bed,
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For there were two great mastiffe dogs,
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That met him in a wood,
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And tore his limbs in pieces small,
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devouring up his blood:
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Whereof when as his father heard,
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Most like a desperate man,
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Within a Channell drownd himselfe,
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that downe the street it ran,
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Where as water could scarce suffice,
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To drown a silly mouse:
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And thus the ruine you have heard
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of him and all his house.
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The Widdow shee was soone possest
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Of all the goods he left,
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In recompence of those sweet babes
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mischance from her bereft,
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Therefore let all heard-hearted men,
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By this example take,
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That God is just, and will be true,
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for woefull widdowes sake.
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Woe worth the man, etc.
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