The first part of the Widdow of Watling street & her three daughters, & how her wicked
.Son accused her to be an harlot, and his sisters Bastards. To the tune of Bragandary.
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OF the kinde Widdow of Watling street
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I will the story tell,
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Who by her husband deere was left,
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In substance very well;
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A prodigall sonne likewise had she,
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And faire young daughters lovely three?
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Great misery, sorrow and misery,
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Commeth for want of grace.
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For by his daily practis[e]s,
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which were both lewd and ill,
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His fathers heart from him was drawne,
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His love and his good will.
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But yet what chance so ere befell,
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his mother lovd him dearely well,
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When in prison lay full poore,
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for debt that he did owe,
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His father would not stirre out of doores,
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For to release his woe.
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But when his mother his griefe did see,
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shee found the meanes to set him free.
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And when her husband fell full sicke,
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and went to make his will,
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O husband remember your sonne she sayd,
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Although he hath beene ill:
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But yet no doubt he may returne,
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repenting the evill he hath done.
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Remember wife what sorrow and care,
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through him I daily found:
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Who through his lewd ungracious deedes,
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Hath spent me many a pound:
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And therefore let him sinke or swim,
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I meane not for to deale with him.
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And therefore sole Executor heere,
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I doe thee onely make:
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To pay thy debts & legacies, the rest unto thee take,
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Not so my husband deare (quoth she)
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but let your sonne be joynd with me:
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For why he is our child (she sayd)
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we can it not denie.
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The first that ever graced you
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With fathers dignitie,
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Oh, that ever you did me love,
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grant this request for his behove.
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Thy love deare wife was evermore,
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most precious unto me:
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And therefore for thy sweet loves sake
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I grant thy suit to thee.
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But ere one yeare be fully spent,
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I know thou wilt the same repent.
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Now was his sonne received home,
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and with his mother deare,
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Was joynd Executor of the Will,
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which did his courage cheere:
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The old man dying, buried was,
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but now behold what came to passe.
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The funerall being ended quite, it fell upon a day
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some friend did fetch the Widdow forth,
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To drive conceits away,
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While she was forth and thought no ill,
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her wicked sonne doth worke his will.
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Possession of the house he took, in most despite full wise
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throwing his sisters out of doors,
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With sad lamenting cryes.
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When this they did his mother show,
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She would not beleeve he would doe so.
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But when she came unto her house,
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and found it so indeede,
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Shee cald unto her son and said, although her heart did bleede,
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Come downe my sonne, come downe said she,
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let in thy mother and sisters three.
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I will not let in my mother he said,
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nor sisters any one,
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The house is mine, I will it keepe,
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Therefore away begone.
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O sonne how canst thou endure to seet.
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thy mother and sisters to lye ith street.
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Did not thy father by his will,
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For tearme of this my life,
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Give me this house for to enjoy, without all further strife.
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And more of all his goods said shee,
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I am Executor joynd with thee.
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My father left you the house, he said,
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but this was his intent,
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That you therefore during your life,
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Should pay me yearely rent:
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An hundred pound a yeare therefore,
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you shall give me, or else give it ore.
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And sith the Cities custome is,
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that you thirds must have
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Of all my fathers moveables,
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I grant what law doth crave:
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But not a penny more will I,
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discharge of any Legacie.
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O wicked sonne, quoth shee that seekes
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thy mother thus to fleece:
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Thy father to his daughters gave
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Three hundred pounds a peece:
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Tell me who shall their portions pay,
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appointed at their marriage day.
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Then with a scornefull smile he said,
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What talke you of so much:
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Ten pounds a peece, I will them give,
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My charitie is such.
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Now fie upon thee beast, quoth she,
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that thus dost deale with them and me.
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But ere that they and I will take
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this injurie at thy hand:
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The chiefest Peeres of England shall
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the matter understand:
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Nay, if you goe to that, quoth he,
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marke well what I shall tell to thee.
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Thou hast a secret harlot beene,
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and this Ile prove full plaine,
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That in my Fathers life time didst
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Lewd Ruffians entertaine:
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The which did then beget of thee,
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in wicked sort these bastards three,
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No daughters [to] my father then
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were they in any wise:
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As he supposed them to be,
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Thou blinding so his eyes.
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Therefore no right at all have they,
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to any penny given this day.
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When shee did heare her shamelesse sonne,
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for to defame her so,
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Shee with her lovely daughters three,
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with griefe away did goe.
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But how this matter out did fall,
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the second part will shew you all.
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FINIS.
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The second part of the Widdow of Watling street and her three Daughters
To the tune of, the Wanton wife.
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THe beautifull Widdow of Watling street,
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Being thus falsely accused by her sonne,
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With her three daughters of favour so sweet,
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Whose beauty the love of many had wonne:
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With her daughters three for [i]succour went she,
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unto the Kings Counsell of Noble degree.
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Now fie upon falsehood, and forgerie fraile,
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For great is the truth, and it will prevaile.
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Her sonne by Writ now summoned is,
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At the Star-chamber with speed to appeare,
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To answer the vile abuses of his:
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The Lords of the Counsell the matter will heare,
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This newes being brought his wits he sought,
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Which way his villany best might be wrought.
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Then up and downe the Citie so faire,
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He seeketh companions to serve his turne:
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A sort of Vagabonds naked and bare,
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The which to worke murders for money are won:
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These wretches behold, for money and gold,
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He hired for witnesse his lies to uphold, etc.
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My masters, quoth he, my mother by name,
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To be a lewd strumpet accused I have:
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And having no witnesse to prove the same,
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Your ayde and asistance herein I doe crave,
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Therefore without feare, before the Lords there,
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That this thing is certaine you sixe shall it sweare.
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The first two quoth he shall sweare on a Booke,
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That sixteene yearss past they plainely did see,
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As they through the Garden hedge sadly did looke,
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That she in one houre was abused by three:
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And how it befell, they two markt it well,
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That just nine moneths after she had her first Girle.
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The second couple shall sweare in this sort,
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That at Bristow about thirteene yeares past,
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She with her owne prentise did fall in such sport,
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That her second daughter was got at the last,
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Now trust us quoth they weele sweare what you say,
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Or any thing else for money this day, etc.
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And thus the third couple their oath now shal take,
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That as at the Bath shee stayd on a day,
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For ach in the bones an excuse she did make,
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How shee with a Courtier the wanton did play,
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And how well you wot in that pleasant plot,
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Her dearest young daughter for certaine was got.
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But now my masters your names let me know,
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That I may provide your apparell with speed,
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Like sixe grave Citizens, so must you goe,
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The better your speeches the Nobles will heed:
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So shall I with scorne ere Saturday morne,
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Prove her a harlot, my Sisters base borne.
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My name is Make-shift the first man did say,
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And Francis Light-finger the second likewise:
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Cutbert Creepe-window the third to display,
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And Rowland Robman with foule staring eyes,
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Jacke shamelesse came then with Harry steale-hen,
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You are quoth the Widow some right honest men.
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Before the Lords most prudent and grave,
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This wretch doth with his witnesses come,
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The Mother complaines, and Justice doth crave,
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Of all the offences that he hath her done.
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My Lords than quoth, I pray you heare me,
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The Law for my deeds, my warrant shall be.
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Her sonne sayd also shees a harlot most vilde,
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And those be her bastards that stand here in place,
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And that she hath often her body defilde,
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By very good witnesse Ile prove to her face,
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This thing of thy Mother thou oughtest to smother,
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Tis shame for a child to speake ill of his Mother.
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But if this matter be proved untrue,
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And thou a false Lyar be found to thy face,
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Worse than an Infidell, Pagan, or Jew
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Thou oughtst to be punisht and plagud in this case
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And therefore draw neere and let us heare,
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What sayes the witnesse that here doth appeare.
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When the first couple did come for to sweare,
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They quivered and quaked in most wondrous sort,
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The Lords very countenance did put them in feare,
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And now they knew not what to report,
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The second likewise so stard with their eyes,
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They stammered and knew not what to devise, etc.
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The Lords perceiving the case how it went,
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Did aske the last couple what they had to say,
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Who fell on their knees incontinent,
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Saying they were hired for money that day:
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Quoth they it is so the truth for to show,
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Against the good Widdow no harme we doe know.
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Thus was the Widdow delivered from blame,
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With her three Daughters of beauty most bright,
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Her sonne reproached with sorrow and shame,
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Having his Judgement appointed him right,
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To forfeit even all the goods he possest,
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To loose both his eares, and banisht, so rest, etc.
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When he heard his Judgement pronounced to be,
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The teares full bitterly fell downe from his face:
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To Mother and Sisters he kneeled on his knee,
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Confessing that lucre had brought this disgrace,
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That for mine owne gaine I sought to detaine
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My Sisters three portions this lie I did faine,
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Therefore deare Mother forgivenesse I crave,
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Of you and my Sisters, offended so sore:
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My body from perill if you will but save,
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I sweare I will grieve and offend you no more.
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The Lords then replide the Law justly tride.
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The punishment now thou art like to abide:
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Therefore to prison now thou shalt goe,
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Whereas thou shalt the Kings pleasure abide:
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From thence to be brought with shame [and] with woe
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To suffer the punishment due for thy pride,
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Then out of hand thou shalt understand,
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That presently thou shalt be banish[t] the Land,
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Now while in prison this prisoner did rest,
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Himselfe he hanged in desperate wise:
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Such horrour of conscience possessed his brest:
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And being cast forth, the Ravens pickt out his eyes
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All Children behold what hath beene told,
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Accuse no man falsely for Lucre of Gold.
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Now fie upon falsehood and forgery fraile,
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For great is the truth and it will prevaile.
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