Constance [and] Anthony:
OR, AN
Admirable New Northern STORY,
Of two constant Lovers, as I understand,
Were born near Appleby in Westmorland;
The Lads name Anthony, Constance the Lass;
To Sea they went both and great Dangers did pass:
How they sufferd Ship[w]rack on the Coast of Spain,
For two Years divided, and then met again;
By wonderful Fortune and Care accident,
And now both live at Home with Joy and Content.
To the Tune of, I would thou wert in Shrewsbury.
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[Two] Lovers in the North,
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Constance and Anthony,
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Of them I will set forth
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a gallant History:
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They lovd exceeding well,
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as plainly doth appear;
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But that which I shall tell,
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the like you neer did hear:
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Still she crys Anthony,
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my bonny Anthony,
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Gang thou by Land or Sea,
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Ill went along with thee.
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Anthony must to Sea,
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his Calling did him bind,
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My Constance, Dear, quoth he,
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I must leave thee behind;
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I prithee do not grieve,
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thy Tears will not prevail;
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Ill think on thee. my Sweet
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when the Ships under sail,
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But still, etc.
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How may that be? said he,
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consider well the case.
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Quoth she, Sweet Anthony,
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Ill bide not in this place:
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If thou gang, so will I,
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of the means, do not doubt;
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A Womans Policy
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great matters may find out,
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My bonny Anthony, etc,
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I would be very glad,
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but prithee tell me how?
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Ill dress me like a Lad,
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what sayst thou to me now?
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The Sea thou canst not brook,
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yes, very well, quoth she,
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Ill Scullion to the Cook,
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for thy sweet company:
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My bonny Anthony,
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my bonny Anthony,
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Gang thou by Land or Sea,
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Ill went along with thee.
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Anthonys leave she had,
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and drest in Mans array,
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She seemd the blithest Lad
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seen on a Summers day.
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O see what Love can do,
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at home she will not hide:
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With her true Love shell go,
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let weal or woe betide:
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My dearest Anthony,
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my dearest Anthony,
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Gang thou by Land or Sea,
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Ill wend along with thee.
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In the Ship twas her lot
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to be Under cook;
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And at the Fire hot,
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wonderful pains she took:
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She served ery one
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fitting to their degree:
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And now and then alone
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she kissed Anthony:
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My bonny, etc.
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Alack and welladay,
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by tempest on the Main,
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Their Ship was cast away,
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upon the Coast of Spain,
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To the mercy of the waves:
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they all committed were,
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Constance her own self saves,
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then she crys for her Dear,
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My bonny, etc.
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Swimming upon a plank,
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at Bilbo she got ashore,
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First she did Heaven thank,
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then she lamented sore,
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O wo is me, said she,
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the saddest lass alive,
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My dearest Anthony,
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now on the Sea doth drive:
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My bonny Anthony,
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my bonny Anthony,
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Gang thou by Land or Sea,
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Ill wend along with thee.
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What shall become of me,
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why do I strive for shore,
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Sith my sweet Anthony,
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I never shall see more?
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Fair Constance do not grieve,
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the same good Providence,
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Hath savd thy Lover sweet,
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but he is far from hence:
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Still she, etc.
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A Spanish Merchant rich,
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saw this fair seeming Lad,
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That did lament so much,
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and was so grievous sad:
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He had in England been,
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and English understood,
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He having heard and seen,
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he in amazement stood:
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Still she etc.
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The Merchant asked her,
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what was that Anthony,
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Quoth she, my Brother Sir,
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who came from thence with me.
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He did her entertain,
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thinking she was a Boy,
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Two Years she did remain,
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before she met her Joy:
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Still she crys Anthony,
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my bonny Anthony,
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Gang thou by Land or Sea,
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Ill wend along with thee.
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Anthony was up tane,
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by an English Runagade,
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With whom he did remain,
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at the Sea-roving trade:
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I th nature of a Slave,
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he did ith Gally row,
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Thus he his Life did save,
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but Constance did not know:
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Still she crys, Anthony,
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my bonny Anthony,
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Gang thou by Land or Sea,
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Ill wend along with thee.
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Now mark what came to pass,
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see how, the Fates did work,
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A Ship that her Masters was
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surprizd this English-Turk,
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And into Bilbo brought
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all that aboard her were;
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Constance full little thought,
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Anthony was so near:
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Still she, etc.
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When they were come on shore,
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Anthony and the rest,
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She who was sad before,
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was now with Joy possest:
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The Merchant much did muse
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at this so sudden change,
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He did demand the News,
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which unto him was strange:
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Now she, etc.
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Upon her Knees she fell,
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unto her Master kind,
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And all the truth did tell,
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nothing she kept behind:
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At which he did admire,
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and in a Ship of Spain,
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Not paying for their hire,
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he sent them home again:
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Now she, etc.
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The Spanish Merchant rich
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did ofs own bounty give
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A sum of Gold, on which
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they now most bravely live:
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And now in Westmorland,
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they were joind hand in hand;
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Constance and Anthony,
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they live in mirth and glee:
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Still she crys Anthony,
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my bonny Anthony,
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Good Providence we see
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hath guarded thee and me.
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