The valiant Commander with his resolute Lady,
Shewing.
A breif discourse of a Commander bold,
Who had a wife was worth her weight in gold,
Shee bravely fought to save her husbands life.
Let all men judge, was not this a valiant wife.
To a new Northern tune called, I would give ten thousand pounds
shee was in Shrewsbury, OR, Ned Smith.
|
GAllants come list a while
|
a story I will tell,
|
Of a Commander bold,
|
and what to him befell,
|
He was besiedged round,
|
in Chester City fair,
|
His Lady being with him,
|
which fild his heart with care,
|
This unto her he said,
|
dearest come thou to mee.
|
I would give ten thousand pounds
|
thou wert in Shrewsbury.
|
O my own hearts delight,
|
my joy and turtle Dove,
|
More dear than my own life,
|
heavens know I do thee love.
|
Those beautious looks of thine
|
my sences set on fire,
|
Yea though I love thee well,
|
thy absence I desire,
|
Dearest come thou to mee, etc.
|
Thy red coloured cheeks
|
and thy bright shining eye,
|
Makes mee alwayes inflamd,
|
with thy sweet company,
|
Thy breath smells far more rare
|
than doth sweet frankincense.
|
And yet for all those fumes
|
I wish thee farther hence:
|
This makes mee sigh and say. etc.
|
Look how my Unkle stands,
|
I dare not come him near,
|
Because I love the King.
|
and am a Cavalier,
|
Yet for my Lady and her son,
|
my heart doth bleed for thee,
|
I would give then thousand pound
|
they were in Shrewsbury:
|
They were in Shrewsbury,
|
some comfort for to find,
|
Amongst the Cavaliers
|
to ease a troubled mind.
|
My heart bleeds in my breast,
|
for my fair Ladies sake,
|
And how to save her life.
|
I know no course to take,
|
Hark how the Drums do beat,
|
and warlike Trumpets sound,
|
Se how the Musqueteers,
|
have now begirt us round:
|
The Souldiers they cry out,
|
kill, kill no quarter give,
|
What hopes then can I have,
|
that my true love should live.
|
|
|
|
|
The second part to the same tune.
|
WHen he thus spoken had
|
his Lady he forsook,
|
And with a manly heart
|
his sword in hand he took.
|
Farewell my Lady dear,
|
now will I bandy blows,
|
And fight myself to death
|
amongst my desperate foes,
|
Dearest farewell from mee,
|
dearest farewell from mee,
|
I would give ten thousand pound,
|
thou wert in Shrewsbury.
|
His Lady seeing then:
|
the danger they were in,
|
She like a Souldier bold
|
nobly then did begin:
|
My trusty love quoth she
|
since thou so va[l]iant art,
|
What ere becomes of me,
|
stoutly Ile take thy part:
|
Dearest cast care away
|
let kisses comfort thee,
|
Thou and Ile neer depart
|
Ile live and dye with thee.
|
Put mee on mans attire
|
give mee a Souldiers coat,
|
Ile make King Charleses foes
|
quickly to change their note.
|
Cock your match, prim your pan
|
let peircing bullets fly.
|
I do not care a pin,
|
whether I live or dye:
|
Dearest cast care away
|
let kisses comfort thee
|
Thou and Ile near depart
|
Ile live and die with thee.
|
She took a Musquet then
|
and a sword by her side,
|
In disguise like a man
|
her valour so she tride,
|
And with her true love she,
|
marcht forth couragiously,
|
And made away with speed,
|
quite through the enemy.
|
Dearest cast care away
|
let kisses comfort thee,
|
Thou and Ile neer depart
|
Ile live and dye with thee.
|
Their Souldiers brave and bold,
|
behavd themselves so well
|
That all the Northern parts,
|
of their deserts can tell;
|
Thus have you heard the n[e]ws
|
of a most valiant weight,
|
And of his Lady brave.
|
how stoutly they did fight.
|
Dearest cast care away,
|
let kisses comfort thee,
|
Thou and Ile neer depart,
|
wee two will still agree.
|
|
|
|
|