A worthy Example of a vertuous wife, who fed her
Father with her own Milk, being condemned to be starved to death, and afterwards
pardoned by the Emperour. To the Tune of, Flying Fame.
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IN Rome I read a Noble man,
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the Emperor did offend,
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And for that fault he was adjudgd,
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unto a cruel end:
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That he should be in Prison cast,
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with irons many a one,
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And there be famisht unto death,
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and brought to skin and bone.
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And more, if any one were known,
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by night, or yet by day,
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To bring him any kind of food,
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his hunger to allay:
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The Emperor swore a mighty Oath,
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without remorse, quoth he,
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They should sustain the crueldst death,
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that could devised be.
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This cruel sentance once pronouncd,
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the Noble-man was cast,
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Into a Dungeon dark and deep,
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with Irons fettered fast:
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Where when he had with hunger great
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remained ten days space,
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A[n]d neither tasted meat nor drink
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in this most woful case,
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The tears along his agd face,
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most plentiously did fall,
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And grievously he did begin,
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for to complain withal:
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O Lord (quoth he) what shall I do,
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so hungry Lord am I,
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For want of bread, one bit of bread,
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I perish, starve, and die.
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How precious is one grain of Wheat,
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unto my hungry soul?
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One crust, or crumb or little piece,
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my hunger to controul:
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Had I this Dungeon heapt with gold,
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I would forgo it all,
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To bu[y] and purchase one brown loaf,
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yea, were it ner so small.
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O that I had but every day,
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one bit of bread to eat;
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Though ner so moldy b[l]ack, or brown,
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my comfort would be great:
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Yea, albeit I took it up,
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trod down in dirt and mire,
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It would be pleasing to my taste,
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and sweet to my desire.
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Good Lord how happy is the Hind,
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that labours all the day,
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The drudging-Mule, the Peasant poor,
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that at command do stay:
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They have their ordinary meals,
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they take no heed at all,
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Of those sweet crumbs and crusts that they,
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do carelessly let fall.
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How happy is that little Chick,
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that without fear may go,
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and pick up those most precious crumbs
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which they away did throw:
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O that some pretty little Mouse,
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so much my friend would be,
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To bring some old forsaken crust,
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into this place to me.
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BUt oh my heart it is in vain,
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no succcour can I have,
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No meat, nor drink, nor water eke
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my loathed life to save,
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O bring some bread for Christ his sake,
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some bread, some bread for me,
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I dye, I dye, for lack of food,
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none but stone walls I see.
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Thus day and night he cryed out,
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in [m]ost outragious sort,
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That all the people far and near,
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were grieved at his report;
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And though that many friends he had,
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and Daughters in the Town,
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Yet none durst come to succour him,
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fearing the Emperors frown.
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Yet now behold one daughter dear,
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he had as I do find,
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Who livd in his disp[l]easure great,
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for matching against his mind:
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A[l]though she lived in mean estate,
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she was a vertuous Wife,
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And for to help her Father dear,
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she ventured thus her life.
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She quickly to her Sisters went,
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and of them did intreat,
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That by some secret means they would
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convey their Father meat;
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Our father dear doth starve (she said)
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the Emperors wrath is such,
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He dies alas for want of food,
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whereof we have too much.
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Sweet sisters therefore use some means
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his life for to preserve,
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And suffer not your father dear,
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in prison for to starve:
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Alas (quoth they) what shall we do
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his hunger to sustain,
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You know tis death for any one
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that would his life maintain.
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And though we wish him well, quod they,
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we never will agree,
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To spoil our selves, we had as lief
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that he should d[y]e as we:
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And sister if you love your self,
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let this attempt alone,
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Though you do ner so secret work,
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at length it will be known.
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O hath our fathers brought us up,
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and nourisht us (quoth she)
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And shall we now forsake him quite,
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in his extremity:
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No, I will venture life and limb,
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to do my father good,
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The worst that is, I can but dye,
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to fit a tyrants mood.
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With that away in hast she hies,
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and to the Prison goes;
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But with her woful father dear,
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she might not speak God knows:
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Except the Emperor would grant
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her favour in that case,
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The Keeper would admit no wight
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to enter in that place.
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Then she unto the Emperor hies,
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and falling on her knee,
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With wringing hands, & bitter tears,
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these words pronounced she:
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My hopeless Father gracious Lord,
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offending of your grace;
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Is judgd unto a pining death,
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within a woful place.
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Which I confess he hath deservd,
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yet mighty Prince (quoth she)
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Vouchsafe in gracious sort to grant
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one simple boon to me:
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It chanced so I matchd my self,
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against my fathers mind,
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Whereby I did procure his wrath,
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as fortune hath assignd.
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And seeing now the time is come
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he must resign his breath;
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Vouchsafe that I may speak with him
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before his hour of death:
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And reconcile my self to him,
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his favour to obtain,
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That when he dyes I may not then
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under his curse remain.
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The Emperor granted her request,
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conditionally that she;
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Each day unto her father came,
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should throughly searched be,
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no meat nor bread she with her brought
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to help him there distrest:
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But every day she nourisht him
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with milk from her own breast.
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Thus by her milk he was preservd
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a twelve month and a day,
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And was most fair and fat to see,
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yet no man knew which way:
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The Emperor musing much thereat,
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at length did understand,
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How he was fed, and not his Law,
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was broke at any hand.
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And much admired at the same,
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and her great vertue shown,
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He pardoned him, and honoured her,
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with great preferments known.
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Her father ever after that
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did love her as his life,
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And blest the time that she was made;
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a loving wedded wife.
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