A new Ballad, intituled, A warning to Youth, shewing the lewd life of a Marchants Sonne of London, and
the miserie that at the last he sustained by his riotousnesse. To the tune of the Lord Darley.
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IN London dwelt a Marchant man,
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that left unto his Sonne,
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A thousand pound in Land a yere,
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to spend when he was gone:
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With coffer crambd with golden crownes
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most like a Father kinde.
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To have him follow his owne steps,
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and beare the selfesame mind.
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Thus every man doth know, doth know,
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and his beginning see,
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But none so wise can shew, can shew,
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what will his ending be.
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No sooner was his father dead,
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and clozed in his grave.
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But this his wilde and wanton sonne,
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his minde to lewdnesse gave.
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And being but of tender yeares.
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found out such companie,
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Which provd his fatall overthrow,
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and finall miserie.
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In gluttonny and drunkennesse,
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he daily took delght,
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And still in Strmpets company,
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he spent the silent night:
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Forgetting quite that drunkenesse.
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and filthy lechery,
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Of all the sinnes will soonest bring
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a man to miserie.
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Within the Seas of wanton love,
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his heart was drownde so deep.
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A night he could not quietly
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without strange women sleep.
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And therefore kept them secretly,
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to feed his foule desire,
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Apparelld all like gallant youthes
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in Pages trimme attyre.
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Their garments were of Crimson silke,
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bedect with lace of gold,
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Their curled haire was white as milke,
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most comely to behold.
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He gave them for their Cognizance,
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a Purple bleeding heart,
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In which two silver arrowes seemd,
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the same in twaine to part.
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Thus secret were his wanton sports,
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thus private was his pleasure,
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Thus Harlots in the shape of men,
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did wast away his treasure.
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Oh woe to lust and lecherie,
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oh woe to such a vice
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That buyes repentance all too late,
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and at too deare a price,
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Yet he repented not at all,
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so wilfull was his mind,
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He could not see his infamy,
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for sin had made him blind.
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But in his heart desird a change
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of wanton pleasures so,
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That day by day he wishes still,
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strange women for to know.
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And so discharging of his traine,
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and selling of his land.
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To travell into countries strange,
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he quickly took in hand,
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And into Antwerpe speedily,
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thus all aflaunt he goes,
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To see the dainty Flemish Girles,
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and gallant Dutchland Froes.
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For still, quoth he the Dutchland Froes,
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are kinde to Englishmen.
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Ile have my pleasure of those Girles,
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or never come againe:
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And being arrivd in Antwerpe streets,
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he met a lovely Dame,
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That was a Widowes daughter deare,
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of good report and fame.
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Her beauty like the Purple rose,
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so glistered in his eye,
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That ravisht with the same, he cravd
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her secret company.
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But she like to an honest Maid.
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by no meanes would consent,
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To satisfie his lustfull eye,
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as was his false intent,
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A hundred dayes he wholly spent,
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as many nights in vaine,
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As many angels he consumd,
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Her maiden-head to gaine.
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But nothing he prevaild at all,
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untill that Satans aid,
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And cursed counsell helping him,
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for to deflowre this maid.
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For like a lustfull Lecher he,
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found such convenient time,
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That he inforced her to drink,
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till she was drunk with wine,
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And being overchargd with wine,
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as Maidens heads be weake:
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He ravisht her there, when that she
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could no resistance make.
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For being sencelesse there she lost
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her sweet virginity,
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Which she had kept full twenty yeares,
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with great severity,
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Therefore good Virgins take good heed
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lest you be thus beguild.
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When Wine is settled in your braine,
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you may be got with Child.
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And marke, I pray what then befell,
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unto this modest Dame:
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When she recovered her lost sence
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and knew of her defame,
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In pining grief, she languisht long,
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like Philomel by night
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And would not come for very shame,
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in honest Maidens sight:
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Her wombe at last began to swell,
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her Babe received life:
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And being neither Widow nor Maid,
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nor yet a maried Wife,
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Did wish that she had nere been borne,
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but in her Cradle dyd.
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Then Angels at the gate of Heaven,
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had crownd her Virgin bright.
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This Babe that breedeth in my wombe,
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(quoth she) shall nere be borne,
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Nor calld a bastard by such wives,
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that hold such love in scorne:
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For I a Strumpet in disgrace,
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though one against my will,
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Before I will so shame my friends,
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my deare lives bloud Ile spill.
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For as with wine I was deceivd
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and made a vitious Dame,
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So will I wash away with Wine
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my scar[l]et spots of shame.
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Then drinking up her burning Wine,
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she yeelded up her breath,
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By which likewise the unborne Babe,
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was scalded unto death.
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Her Mother falling on her knees
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to heaven did cry and call,
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If ever Widowes curse. quoth she,
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on mortall man did fall,
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Then say, Amen to mine O Lord
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that he may never thrive.
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That was the cause of this mischance,
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but rot away alive.
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His nailes from off his fingers dropt,
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his eyes from out his head.
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His toes they roted from his feet,
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before that he was dead,
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His tongue that had false-sworne so oft,
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to compasse his desire
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Within his mouth doth glow and burne,
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like coales of sparkling fire:
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And thus in torment in his sinne,
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this wicked Caitife dyd,
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Whose hatefull Carkes after death.
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in earth could not abide,
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But in the mawes of Carrion Crowes,
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and Ravens made a Tombe,
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A vengeance just on those that use
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on such vile sinnes presume:
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For Widowes curses have full oft:
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been felt by mortall wights,
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And for oppressed Widowes wronges,
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still heavenly Angels fights:
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For when King Henry the 6 by force
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was murthered in the Tower,
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And his fair Queen Widow mad,
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by Crooke-backt Richards power:
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She so exclaimed to the heavens,
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for to revenge that deed,
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That they might die in such like sort,
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which caused him to bleed
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Her curses so prevaild God wot,
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that every one was slaine,
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Or murdered by lie cruell hands,
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not one there did remain.
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Both Crookebackt Richard, & his mates
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Lord Love-l and Buckingam,
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With many more did feele her curse
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which needlesse are to name
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For widows wrongs still pierce the gate
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of Gods celestiall Throne,
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And heaven it selfe will still revenge
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oppressed widowes mone,
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Take heed, take heed, you wanton youths,
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take heed by this mishap:
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Lest for your lust and lechery,
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you be caught in a trap.
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Leave off your foule abuses
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you shew to maide and Wives.
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And by this wanton Marchants fall,
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learne how to mend your lives.
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