The Gloucester-shire TRAGEDY: Or,
The LOVERS Down-Fall.
Shewing how an Old Miser of a vast Estate, would have married his Daughter to a Covetous, Rich Knight, whom she could not Love; After which, he
consented to a young Gentleman to Court her; but as soon as they were Engaged to each other, he kept her from him, whereupon she denied him Marriage without her Fathers
Consent: How he Poisoned himself, and afterwards his Ghost appeard to her with a burning Torch: How she was poisond, which caused her Father to stab himself, etc.
To the Tune of, The Palatine Lovers.
|
NEar Golford Town, we hear,
|
Of late in Gloucester-shire,
|
There livd a Lady fair,
|
of Beauty bright;
|
Her Father vastly great,
|
In Money and Estate,
|
Which most unfortunate,
|
ruind her quite.
|
[Two t]housand pounds a Year,
|
[Her Fath]er had, we hear,
|
[There was] no other Heir,
|
[But this] Lady;
|
Whod marry her out-right,
|
Unto a Rich Old Knight:
|
But she the same did slight
|
disdainfully.
|
Father, she often cryd,
|
If that I should be tyd
|
To be an Old Man's Bride,
|
How would this prove?
|
If in Marriage Band
|
Must obey your Command,
|
Let me, Sir, have a Man,
|
that I can love,
|
Her Father angry grew,
|
Saying, Daughter, if you
|
Will my Commands not do,
|
to pleasure me,
|
Assured be of this,
|
If that you wed amsis
|
Unto my Mind, Ill dis-
|
inherit thee.
|
For some time this past on,
|
And a young Gentleman,
|
That lived near at hand,
|
a wooing came.
|
One thousand Pounds a Year,
|
His Father had w[e] hear,
|
And he his only Heir
|
unto the same.
|
When to her Father come,
|
His Business he made known,
|
For whose dear Sake alone,
|
he him addrest.
|
Sir, if youll give, he cryd,
|
Your Daughter for my Bride,
|
Sure no Man eer beside,
|
can be more blest.
|
Her Father cunningly,
|
Did make him this Reply,
|
Your Suit Ill not deny,
|
get her in Mind:
|
But when theyd fi their Love
|
Before the Powers xbove,
|
I'd them he false did prove,
|
as you will find.
|
When some few Months, alas;
|
In Courtship they had past,
|
Their Hearts were linked fast,
|
in lasting Love.
|
Cupid had plaid his Part,
|
And sent a flaming Dart,
|
To wound each others Heart,
|
which none could move.
|
But see the wretched Fate
|
Of cruel Fathers Hate:
|
He strove to seperate
|
[them you shall hear,]
|
And would not yield, he said,
|
Though he had promised
|
this Gentleman should wed
|
his Daughter fair.
|
Pray Sir, he often cryd,
|
Why must I be denyd,
|
Of this my charming Bride,
|
I so much love
|
I that unkind you are,
|
To part us loving Pair,
|
Were ruind I declare;
|
then kinder prove.
|
Her Father did say,
|
Think you [y]oung Man I pray,
|
That I will throw away
|
my Daughter so?
|
Her Fortune is too great,
|
For one of your Estate,;
|
Therefore stand not to prate.
|
my Mind you know.
|
Then in great Discontent,
|
He to his Lady went,
|
And sadly did lament
|
this his hard Case.
|
Saying, Dear Lady bright,
|
Im ruin'd, ruind quite,
|
Your Father does me slight,
|
and proves most base.
|
Hell not consent he cryd,
|
That you should be my Bride,
|
Oh! What will me betide?
|
I am undone.
|
Now I have fixd my Love,
|
He most unkind does prove;
|
Pity, ye Powers above,
|
a poor young Man.
|
Then did he sadly weep,
|
Grieving and sighing deep,
|
And at his Ladys Feet,
|
fell in a Swoond:
|
This grievd her to the Heart,
|
Of Love she felt the Smart,
|
As in the ensuing part,
|
will soon be found,
|
When thus, this Lady fair
|
Beheld her Lover dear,
|
She usd her utmost Care
|
him to revive?
|
And often, often cryd,
|
If I am you denyd,
|
Ill have no One beside,
|
as Im alive.
|
Then did the Tears apace,
|
Run trickling down her Face,
|
And him did oft embrace,
|
[upon the Floor,]
|
Wretched Father, said she,
|
Is this your Love to me?
|
I shall now ruind be
|
for evermore.
|
As from his Swoon he came,
|
With a deep Sigh and Groan,
|
He cryd, Undone, Undone,
|
my Dear, am I.
|
My Love is just and true,
|
And if I have not you,
|
Ill bid the World adieu
|
Eternally.
|
These Words she did express,
|
My Love is nothing less,
|
I freely must confess,
|
it is most true.
|
But if my Father, he,
|
Will not to it agree,
|
I cannot marryd be,
|
dear Sir, to you.
|
I will most constant prove,
|
No other will I love;
|
Witness ye Gods above
|
to what is said.
|
But cease for to lament,
|
And strive to be Content;
|
For without his Consent
|
I will not wed.
|
When she these Words did speak
|
He sighd as Heart would break
|
Saying, Love, for your sake,
|
ruind am I.
|
Ill say no more than this
|
Give me one parting Kiss:
|
Now farewel Earthly Bliss
|
Eternally.
|
Then from her he did go,
|
With a Heart filld with Woe,
|
To work his Overthrow
|
resolvedly.
|
Some Poison strong he took,
|
Which quickly did its Work;
|
so he this world forsook
|
most wretchedly.
|
When this News to her came,
|
She grievd much for the same.
|
And said he was to blame
|
himself to kill.
|
She to her Father ran,
|
And cryd, O cruel Man,
|
See, see what you have done,
|
by your ill will.
|
Like one Distracted, she
|
Lamented bitterly,
|
And said, My Dear, with thee
|
[Would I had died.]
|
Declare if now I shall,
|
Im ruind by your Fall;
|
I lovd you more than all
|
the World beside.
|
Thus Day and Night she cry,
|
My Love, why did you die,
|
And leave me wretchedly
|
behind you here;
|
Oh come dear Ghost to me,
|
And let me once more see,
|
That comely Face, said she,
|
I loved so dear.
|
As she one Night did lie,
|
Weeping most bitterly,
|
She heard a Voice to cry,
|
my Dear, my Dear,
|
For your sweet sake I dyd,
|
Who should have been my Bride
|
Behold at your Beds side;
|
Im here, Im here.
|
At which the Curtain she
|
Put back immediatly,
|
And the pale Ghost did see
|
At her Beds side.
|
It cloathed was in White,
|
Holding a Torch so Bright;
|
At this most dismal Sight
|
she shrickd and cryd.
|
The Ghost then thus did speak,
|
I died for your sake,
|
Twas love my Heart did break
|
most certainly:
|
The Morning Cock I fear,
|
Wont let me long stay here,
|
Then if you love me; Dear-
|
est follow me.
|
The Ghost a Dead-mans Skull
|
Did hold, with Poyson still,
|
Saying come drink your fill,
|
of this black Cup;
|
twill love-sick Passions cure,
|
Ive drank the same before;
|
And so has Hundreds more;
|
then take it up.
|
She took it, saying Lo[ve,]
|
By all the Gods above,
|
this shall my Witness prove
|
I love you well;
|
Now will I go she said,
|
And in your grave be laid;
|
In sweet Elizans-Shades,
|
our Souls shall dwell.
|
She instantly arose,
|
Sorrounded all with Woes,
|
And with the Ghost she goes,
|
[down to the Gate;]
|
Whereas a Coach did stand.
|
With many a Serving Man,
|
With torches in their Hand
|
that their did wait.
|
Being put in the Coach,
|
With her beloved Ghost,
|
Most swiftly they did post,
|
unto his Grave:
|
and said, Love here i lie,
|
then quickly, quickly die,
|
to which he straight did hie,
|
tis that Id have.
|
Vanishing all away,
|
they left her there to stay,
|
till the approaching Day.
|
among the tombs;
|
She sadly did Lament,
|
Her Cryes to Heaven sent,
|
And said, Ghost be content,
|
Ill come, ill come.
|
The Poyson wrackd her Heart
|
Working in every part,
|
Death with his fatal Dart
|
the Wound had gave,
|
in woeful Misery,
|
she did expecting lie,
|
Each Minute for die,
|
upon his Grave.
|
As in this state she lay,
|
Until the silent Day,
|
Young-man past that way
|
A and her did know;
|
Fair Lady to me tell,
|
What chance has you befel,
|
I fear all is not well,
|
that you lie so.
|
Then she declard what past
|
From first unto the last
|
And said Young man make hast
|
and run with speed
|
Unto my Father Dear,
|
who have been so severe,
|
O bik him quick come here
|
eer I am Dead.
|
Her Father came and found
|
Her lying on the Ground,
|
And ready was to swoon
|
at this sad sight,
|
She cryd dear Father I,
|
For Love now here must die
|
Tis your Severity
|
has killd me quite[,]
|
Death wracks in e[very] P[lace,]
|
And stares me in th[e face;]
|
Dear Grave, Ill [thee embrace
|
so lovingly.]
|
Dear Lo[ve, now open wide]
|
thy Arms for thy [dear Bride;]
|
I come, I come, she [cr]yd,
|
and so did die,
|
Her Father grieving sore,
|
Hugging her oer and oer,
|
Ye Heavens i implore
|
Let me too die,
|
then with a Dagger sharp
|
He struck him to the Heart,
|
His Life did there depart
|
immediately.
|
O cruel Death severe
|
what dismal sight was here,
|
Father and Daughter dear,
|
thus for to die.
|
their sad and dismal Fall,
|
Lamented was by all,
|
And did for Pity call
|
from every Every Eye.
|
then home they were conveyd
|
with speed, as it is said,
|
And both in state were laid,
|
in a Large Hall.
|
which thousands came to see,
|
Hearing this Tragedy.
|
That might a warning be
|
to Lovers all:
|
By all both Rich and Poor,
|
They lay lamented oer,
|
About a Week or more,
|
in mournful State.
|
Many a Lover dear,
|
Many a Lady fair,
|
In mourning did appear,
|
for their sad Fate.
|
A Hearse and Six with speed,
|
Provided was indeed,
|
Many a mournful weed,
|
did it attend:
|
Their Graves were made close by
|
where her true love did lie
|
So of this Tragedy,
|
I make an end.
|
|
|
|
|
|