Constance of Cleveland:
A very excellent Sonnet of the most Fair Lady Constance of Cleveland. and her
disloyall Knight. To the tune of Crimson Velvet.
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IT was a youthfull Knight
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lovd a gallant Lady,
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Fair she was and bright,
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and of vertues rare,
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Herself she did behave
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so courteously as may be,
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Wedded they were brave,
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joy without compare.
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Here began the grief,
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Pain without relief,
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her husband soon her love forsook
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To women lewd of mind,
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Being bad inclind,
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he only lent a pleasant look:
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The Lady she sate weeping,
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While that he was keeping
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company with others moe.
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her words, my Love beleeve not,
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Come to me and grieve not,
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wantons will thee overthrow.
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His fair Ladies words,
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nothing he regarded,
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Wantonnesse affords
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such delightfull sport.
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While they dance and sing,
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with great mirth prepared,
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She her hands did wring,
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in most grievous sort.
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O what hap had I,
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Thus to wail and cry?
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unrespected every day.
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Living in disdain,
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While that others gain
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all the right I should injoy,
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I am left forsaken,
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Others they are taken,
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ah my love why dost thou so?
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her flatteries beleeve not,
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Come to me and grieve not,
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wantons will the overthrow.
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The Knight with his fair peece,
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at length the Lady spie[']d,
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Who did him daily fleece
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of his wealth and store.
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Secretly she stood,
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while she her fashions tryed,
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With a patient mind,
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while deep the strumpet swore.
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O sir Knight quoth she,
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So dearly I love thee,
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my life doth rest at thy dispose.
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By day and eke by night,
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For thy sweet delight,
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thou shalt me in thy arms inclose.
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I am thine for ever,
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Still I will persever
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true to thee where ere I go,
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her flatteries beleeve not,
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Come to me and grieve not,
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wantons will thee overthrow.
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The vertuous Lady mild,
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enters then among them,
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Being big with child
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as ever she might be.
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With distilling tears,
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she looked then upon them,
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Filled full of fears,
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thus replyed she,
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Ah my Love and dear,
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Wherefore stay you here,
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refusing me your loving wife.
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For an harlots sake.
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Which each one will take,
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whose vile deeds provoke much strife
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Many can accuse her,
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O my Love refuse her,
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with thy Lady home return,
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Her flatteries beleeve not,
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Come to me and grieve not,
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wantons will thee overthrow
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All in a fury then,
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the angry Knight up started:
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Very furious when
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he heard his Ladies speech.
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With many bitter terms,
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his wife he ever thwarted
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Using hard extreams
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while she did him beseech.
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From her neck so white,
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He took away in spite,
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her curious chain of purest gold,
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Her Jewells and her rings,
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And all such costly things,
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as he about her did behold.
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The harlot in her presence,
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He did gentle reverence
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and to her he gave them all.
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He sent away his Lady,
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Full of wo as may be.
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who in a swound with grief did fall
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AT the Ladyes wrong,
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the Harlot fleer'd & laughed
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Enticements are so strong,
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they overcome the wise,
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The Knight nothing regarded
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to see the Lady scoffed,
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Thus was she rewarded
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for her Enterprize.
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The Harlot all this space,
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Did him oft imbrace,
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she flatters him & thus doth say,
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For thee Ile dye and live,
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For thee my Faith Ile give,
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no wo shall work my loves decay,
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Thou shalt be my Treasure,
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Thou shalt be my pleasure,
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thou shalt be my hearts delight
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I will be thy darling,
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I will be thy worldling,
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in despight of Fortunes spight.
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Thus he did remain
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In wastfull great expences,
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Till it bred his pain,
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and consum'd him quite.
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When his Lands were spent,
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troubled in his sences,
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Then he did repent
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of his late lewd life.
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For relief he hyes
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For relief he flyes,
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to them on whom he spent his Gold,
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They do him deny,
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They do him defie,
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they will not once his face be-hold
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Being thus distressed,
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Being thus oppressed,
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in the fields that night he lay.
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Which the harlot knowing,
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Through her mallice growing,
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sought to take his life away.
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A young and proper Lod,
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they had slain in secret,
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For the Gold he had
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whom they did convey
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By a Ruffian lewd
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to that place directly.
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Where the youthfull Knight.
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fast a sleeping lay.
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The bloody Dagger than,
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Wherewith they killd the man,
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hard by the knight he likewise laid,
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Sprinkling him with blood;
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As he thought it good,
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& then no longer there he stayd.
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The knight being so abused,
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Wa[s] forthwith accused,
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for this murder which was done
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And he was condemned,
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That had not offended.
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shamefull death he might not shun
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When the Lady bright,
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understood the matter,
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That her wedded Knight,
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was condemnd to dye.
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To the King she went,
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with all the speed that might be
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Where she did lament
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her hard destiny.
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Noble King (quoth she)
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Pitty take on me,
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& pardon my poor husbands life.
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Else I am undone.
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With my little Son,
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let mercy mitagate this grief:
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Lady fair content thee,
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Soon thou wouldst repent thee.
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if he should be saved so.
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Sore he hath abusd ther,
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Sore he hath misusd thee,
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therefore Lady let him go.
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O my Leige quoth she,
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grant your gracious favour,
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Dear he is to me,
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though he did me wrong.
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The King replyd again,
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with a stern behaviour,
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A Subject he hath slain,
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dye he shall ere long.
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Except thou canst find.
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Any one so kind,
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that will dye and set him free,
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Noble King she said,
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Glad am I apaid,
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that same person will I be.
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I will suffer duly.
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I will suffer truly,
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for my Love and husbands sake
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The King thereat amazed,
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Though he her beauty praised;
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he had from thence they should her take
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It was the Kings command,
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on the morrow after.
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She should out of hand,
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to the Scaffold go:
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Her husband was,
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to bear the sword before her
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He must eke alas
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give the deadly blow.
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He refusd the deed,
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She bid him proceed,
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with a thousand kisses sweet
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In this wofull case.
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They did doth imbrace
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which movd the Ruffians in the place
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Straight for to discover
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This concealed murder,
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whereby the Lady saved was.
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The harlot then was hanged,
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As she well deserved
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this did vertue bring to passe.
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