The LAMENTATION of Mr. PAGEs Wife of Plymouth.
|
UNhappy she whom fortune hath forlorn,
|
Despisd of grace that profferd grace did scorn.
|
My lawless love has luckless wrought my woe,
|
My discontent content did overthrow.
|
My loathed life too late I do lament,
|
My woeful deeds in heart I do repent.
|
A wife I was that wilful went away,
|
And for that fault am here prepard to die.
|
In blooming years my fathers greedy mind,
|
Against my Will a match for me did find;
|
Great wealth there was, yea gold and silver store,
|
But yet my heart had chosen one before.
|
Mine eyes dislikd my fathers liking quite,
|
My heart did loath my parents fond delight:
|
My childish mind and fancy told to me,
|
That with his age my youth could not agree.
|
On knees I prayd they would not me constrain,
|
With tears I cryd their purpose to refrain.
|
With sighs and sobs I did them often move,
|
I might not wed with him I could not love.
|
But all in vain my speeches still I spent,
|
My mothers will my wishes did prevent:
|
Tho wealthy Page possessd the outward part,
|
George Strangwidge was lodgd within my heart.
|
I wedded was, and wrapped all in woe,
|
Great discontent within my heart did grow.
|
I loathd to live, yet livd in deadly strife,
|
Because by force I was made Pages wife.
|
My chosen eyes could not his sight abide,
|
My tender youth did loath his aged side.
|
Scarce could I taste the meat whereon he fed,
|
My legs did loath to lodge within his bed.
|
Cause I knew none that I should slight him so,
|
That such disdain within my heart did grow;
|
Save only this, that fancy did me move,
|
And told me still George Strangwidge was my love.
|
Lo! here began my downfal and decay,
|
In mind I musd to make him strait away.
|
In that became his discontented wife,
|
Contented that he should be rid of life.
|
Methinks the Heavens cry vengeance for my fact,
|
Methinks the world condemns my monstrous act.
|
Methinks within me conscience tells me true,
|
That for this deed Hell-fire is my due.
|
My pensive soul doth sorrow for my sin,
|
For this offence my soul doth bleed within.
|
Mercy, Lord, for mercy still I cry:
|
Save thou my soul, and let my body die.
|
Well could I wish that Page enjoyed his life,
|
So that he had some other to his wife.
|
But never could I wish of low or high,
|
A longer life than see sweet Strangwidge die.
|
O woe is me! that had no better grace,
|
To stay till he had run out natures race.
|
My deeds I rue, but more I do repent
|
That to this thing my Strangwidge did consent.
|
I married was in much and endless strife,
|
But faith before did make me Strangwidges wife.
|
Consider well, and rightful judges be,
|
And give your doom twixt parents love and me.
|
I am their child and bound for to obey,
|
But not to love where I no love could lay.
|
To parents fond who greedy-minded be,
|
And seek to graft upon the golden tree.
|
O wretched world! whom cankerd rust doth blind,
|
And cursed men, who bear a greedy mind,
|
And hapless I, whose parents did force so,
|
To end my days in sorrow, grief and woe.
|
Ye Devonshire dames and affable Cornwal knights,
|
That here are come to visit woeful wights,
|
Regard my grief, and mark my woeful end,
|
But to your children prove a better friend.
|
And thou, my dear, who for my fault must die,
|
Be not afraid the sting of death to try;
|
Like as we livd and lovd together true,
|
So both at once lets bid the world adieu.
|
Ulalia, thy friend, does take her last farewel,
|
Whose soul with thee in heaven shall ever dwell.
|
Sweet Saviour Christ, do thou my soul receive.
|
The world I do with all my heart forgive.
|
And, parents now, whose greedy minds do show,
|
Your hearts desire, and inward mighty woe,
|
Mourn ye no more, so now my heart doth tell.
|
Ere this days gone my soul will be right well.
|
O Plymouth proud! I bid thee now, farewel.
|
Take heed, ye wives, let not your hands rebel.
|
And farewel life, wherein such sorrom shows,
|
And welcome grave, that doth my corps inclose.
|
And now, dear Lord, forgive me my misdeeds,
|
Repentance calls for a heart that inward bleeds.
|
My soul and body I recommend to thee,
|
Who with thy blood from death redeemed me.
|
Lord bless our king with long and happy life,
|
And send true peace twixt each man and his wife.
|
And give all parents wisdom to foresee
|
The match is spoild where minds do not agree.
|
|
|
|
|
Mrs. PAGEs Complaint for causing her Husband to be Murdered for Love of GEORGE STRANG- WIDGE.
|
IF ever woe did touch a womans heart,
|
Or sin did gall for grief the outward part.
|
My conscience then and heavy heart within
|
Can witness well the sorrow for my sin.
|
When years were young my father made me wed
|
Against my will where fancy was not fed.
|
I was content his pleasure to obey,
|
Altho my heart was linkd another way.
|
Great were the gifts they offerd in my sight,
|
With wealth they thought to win me to delight,
|
But gold nor gifts my mind could not remove,
|
For I was linkd whereas I could not love.
|
Methought his sight was loathsome to my eye,
|
My heart did grudge against him inwardly;
|
This discontent did cause me deadly strife,
|
And with his wealth did cause a grievous life.
|
My constant love was on George Strangwidge set,
|
And woe to him who did our pleasure let;
|
His love in me so deep a root did take,
|
I would have gone a-begging for his sake.
|
Wronged he was thro fond desire of gain,
|
Wronged he was een thro my parents plain;
|
If faith and troth a perfect pledge might be,
|
I had been wife unto no man but he.
|
Eternal God! forgive my fathers deed,
|
And grant all parents may take better heed.
|
If I had been but constant to my friend,
|
I had not matchd to make so bad an end.
|
But wanting grace I sought my own decay,
|
And was the cause to make my friend away.
|
And he in whom my earthly joys did lie,
|
Thro my amiss a shameful death must die.
|
Farewel, sweet George, always my loving friend,
|
Needs must I laud and love thee to the end,
|
And albeit that Page possest thy due,
|
In sight of God thou wast my husband true.
|
My watery eyes unto the Heavens I bend,
|
Praying to Christ his mercies to extend,
|
This bloody deed do thou, O Lord! forgive,
|
And let my soul within thy kingdom live.
|
Farewel, false world, and friends that fickle be,
|
All wives farewel, a warning take by me.
|
Let not the Devil to murder you entice,
|
Seek to escape such foul and sinful vice.
|
And now, O Christ! to thee I yield my breath,
|
Strengthen my faith in bitter pangs of death,
|
Pardon my faults and follies I thee pray,
|
And with thy blood wash thou my sins away.
|
|
|
|
|
GEORGE STRANGWIDGES Lamentation for con- senting to PAGES Death, for Love of ULALIA, PAGES Wife.
|
THE man that sighs and sorrows for his sin,
|
The corps which care and woe is trapped in,
|
In doleful sort records his swan-like song,
|
That waits for death, and loaths to live so long
|
O Glansfield! cause of my committed crime,
|
Sowed in wealth, as birds in bush of lime,
|
What cause hadst thou to bear such spight
|
Against my love, and take my hearts delight?
|
I would to God thy wisdom had been more,
|
Or that I had not entered thy door;
|
Or that thou hadst a kinder father been
|
Unto thy child, whose years are yet but green.
|
The match unmeet which thou for her did make,
|
When aged Page thy daughter home did take.
|
Well mayst thou rue, with tears that cannot dry,
|
Which is the cause that four of us must die.
|
Ulalia, more bright than the morning sun,
|
Whose beauty hath for ever my heart won.
|
My soul sobs more to think of thy disgrace,
|
Than to behold my own untimely race.
|
This deed late done in heart I do repent,
|
But that I lovd I cannot yet repent.
|
Thy seemely sight was ever sweet to me,
|
Would God my death could her excuser be.
|
It was for me, alas! thou didst the same,
|
On me by right thou ought to fix the blame;
|
My worthless love ha[s] brought thy life to scorn,
|
And woe is me, that ever I was born.
|
Farewel, my love, whose loyal heart was seen,
|
I would thou hadst not half so constant been.
|
Farewel, my love, the pride of Plymouth-town,
|
Farewel; the fairest flower is cut down.
|
For twenty years great was the cost, I know,
|
Thy unkind father did on thee bestow.
|
Yet afterwards kind fortune was severe,
|
He lost his child and joy within an hour.
|
Wrong and woe to God I do commit,
|
Who was the cause of matching them unfit.
|
And yet I cannot so my guilt excuse,
|
We gave consent his for to abuse.
|
Wretch that I am that my consent did give,
|
Had I denyd, Ulalia still should live;
|
Blind fancy said, This suit do not deny,
|
Live thou in bliss or else in sorrow die.
|
O Lord! forgive this cruel deed of mine,
|
Upon my soul let beams of mercy shine,
|
In justice, Lord, do thou no vengeance take,
|
Forgive us both for Jesus Christ his sake.
|
|
|
|
|