The Northamptonshire Tragedy.
In THREE PARTS.
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YOung Lovers lend an Ear, Im sure youll shed a Tear,
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When you the same shall hear which I unfold.
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Twill make your heart to bleed, when farther I proceed,
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A dismal Story sure as eer was told.
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In fair Northamptonshire, as I to you declare,
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There livd two Noblemen of vast Estates.
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Each had a Daughter dear, as for a truth we hear,
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But yet, alas! unhappy was their Fates.
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One was of beauteous mould, the other as tis told,
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Was much deformed, and inferiour too.
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The other a Beauty clear, but you soon shall hear,
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Her Craftiness did this Lady quite undoe.
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A noble Knight of Fame, to court this Beauty came,
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Protesting if she would not grant him her love,
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He was ruind quite, no Comfort Day or Night,
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O ease me of my pain ye Powers above.
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Why did this lovely fair, my tender heart ensnare?
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O Cupid let your tender arrows fly,
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And wound her heart as mine, and make her be as kind,
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For if she will not love, for her I die.
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At last as we do find, he to her told his mind
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Who courteously to him this answer made.
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Your suit I must deny, kind sir, I tell you why,
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I think I am too young as yet to wed.
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But lovely Maid, said he, can you thus cruel be,
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Let not those charming eyes such darts let fly;
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O cure a love-sick heart, and ease me of my smart,
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Or else for you my dearest love I die.
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Sir, tell me not of Love, you may unconstant prove,
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I know such things they are often found;
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My years they are too green, I am not yet Fifteen,
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Im sure I do not know what Love doth mean.
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Thus night and day [?]th this Lady be,
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At last she did consent to be his Bride;
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First ask my Father pray, let him appoint the Day,
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And if hes willing I am satisfied.
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O charming sound I hear, that youll be my Dear,
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Thou beauteous Goddess whom I do adore;
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Since youre constant at last, now my sorrows past,
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Instead of Grief, I now have comfort store.
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He to her Father went, and asked his Consent,
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Immediately to him he thus did say;
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She is too young indeed, It must be thus agreed,
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If that you have her you for her must stay.
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With all my heart he cried, if she is my Bride;
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I do not mind for her how long I stay;
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[]Tis she I do adore, and shall for evermore.
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With kisses sweet they passd the time away.
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PART II.
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OBserve the Second Part, how he did her betray,
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Her Heart he stole away, and then defild
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Her lovely Body too, which provd her overthrow,
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For she alas! by him did prove with Child.
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Soon as he knew the same, he left the lovely Dame,
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And to her Neighbour a courting did go:
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Tho Crooked and Deformd, for her this Beauty scornd
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Which causd her lovely Eyes with tears to flow.
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Letters she oft did send with expressions kind,
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Saying, what do you mean, dear love I pray,
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That you do me fly, and will not me come nigh,
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O cruel Man my Heart thus to betray.
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No answer she received from her Love indeed,
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At length unto the Coachman she did say,
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Dear John, one thing I crave, Ill make you fine and brave,
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If youll my council keep and not betray.
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This Diamond Ring so bright, bear to the gallant knight,
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Brave STANFORD that sweet Name it doth bear,
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Also this Letter pray, give to him this day,
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Or else my Heart in peices I must tear.
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The Coachman was amazd, and on his Lady gazd:
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Unto the perjurd Knight away he went,
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His message did declare: Go tell your Lady fair,
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To come to her this Day was my intent.
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Soon as he did come, he approachd the room,
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The charming ladys bloom, like roses sweet,
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Her crimson cheeks forsook, ere a word she spoke,
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In a swoon she dropt down at his feet.
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He strove her to revive, and finding her alive;
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What means your grief, I beg now let me hear,
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Her lilly hands she wrung, tis a deluding tongue,
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O pity me for my sweet Infant dear.
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Its striving in my womb, perform your promise, come
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Blast not my Honour, hide my shame I pray,
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Look on the Ring I beg, think on the oath you made,
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Which you swore to me both Night and Day.
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With Countenance most Grim, he at her cast the Ring,
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Think not that I vile Wretch, thy case deplore,
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No more thy Face Ill see, no more send to me,
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I will not own a Bastard nor a Whore.
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Good People do but think, what Greif she underwent,
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To hear this perjured Creature thus degrade,
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Her charms unto her Face, who did her thus disgrace,
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Whose flattery at first her Heart betrayd.
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At last her Father dear, beheld his Daughter fair,
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With Sorrow overflowd, to her he said,
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What ails my Daughter dear, do pray let me hear:
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The reason I must know this very Day.
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Im very ill, she cryd, let me not be denyd,
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One thing that I desire dear Father pray,
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That I to take the air, may to my Aunts repair,
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If not, my Fathers will must be obeyd.
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PART III.
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HER Father did consent, she to her Aunts was sent,
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Her Coach to attend on her also:
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Her Aunt did quickly spy, wherein her grief did lie,
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And the truth she quickly then did know.
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Her Aunt was just and good, her best Friend she stood,
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At last the time was come, this Lady fair,
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Must delivered be; a lovely Son, had she,
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Which was much cause to her, of grief and care:
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As she delivered were, she calld the Coachman there,
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To Heavens made him swear, for to be true;
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Here take these Guineas bright, go to the false Knight,
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And give to him these Rings and Letter too.
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Soon to the Knight he went, and gave the things she sent,
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Who opened the same, it did unfold;
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When he read the same, a treacherous laugh did frame,
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Saying, I do wonder at this Strumpet bold.
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Me of her Son to tell, I wish they were in Hell,
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I think it would be well, if they were there;
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Go tell her what I say, and come no more I pray,
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So then in Pieces the Letter he did tear.
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He to the Lady came, and told her of the same;
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O Creature most Prophane, my Infant dear,
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May rest in Heaven high, while thy sad Soul doth fry,
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In cruel torment where you wish we were.
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In bitter Grief she lay, tormented Night and Day,
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At length her Infant died by her side.
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This made her grief more and more, she kissd it oer & oer,
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My Father I will see, whateer betide.
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At length she weary grew, Ill to my Father go,
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Dear Aunt I pray let none the secret know;
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So farewell, she cried, let Heaven be your Guide,
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Ill seek for him that causd my overthrow,
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She to her Father came, which did her entertain,
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Most lovingly, saying, my Daughter dear,
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Im glad to see you well, strange news I have to tell,
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Your Love is married this day I do declare.
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She seemed discontent, and from her Father went,
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Ye Furies now come strike unto my Brain,
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Some curst invention pray, to take his Life away;
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And let me be revengd for his disdain.
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Her Lover as we hear, did each Day repair,
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To take the air within a silent Grove,
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To pass the time away, read some diverting Play,
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Hed sit and let his wandering fancy rove.
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She understood the same, and calling to her Man,
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And smiling unto him, she thus did say,
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Stanford as I do hear, does to a Grove repair,
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A Project is come in my Head this Day.
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Ill get a Friars dress, a visit I protest,
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I am resolved unto him to pay,
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And crave his Charity, while he does look on me,
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Im sure to speak to him, Ill find a way.
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Thedres he did prepare, with things fit and rare,
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Her Coachman ready in the afternoon;
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Drove down a narrow Lane, behind the Grove it came,
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Now stop, said she, Youll see the fancy soon.
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Out of the Coach she came, the Fryars dress put on,
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And when she had disguisd herself all ore,
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A curious Basket fine, she round her Arm did twine.
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Then went his charity for to implore.
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Most noble Knight so brave, your charity I crave,
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I hope youll me relieve before you go;
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Yes, that I will, said he, but pray now let me see,Methinks I something of that voice do know,
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She by his side did stand, and took him by the hand,
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And with the other out a Pistol drew:
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And let it off with speed, to do this wicked deed,
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The Bullet went his Body thro and thro.
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He fell down dead indeed, she stript the Fryars weed,
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Now Stanfords worthy Friends behold tis I;
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Have done this bloody deed, caused thy heart to bleed,
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Now thou art rewarded for thy treachery.
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She cast her Friars weed over her head with speed,
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Her Coachman saw the thing that she had done;
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He trembled every limb, and straitway took her in.
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And then like lightening homeward he drove.
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But as they drove along, the Coach did overturn,
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A most unhappy doom, this Lady she,
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Her Arm did break in two, the Coachmans Leg also,
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In misery they lay till afternoon.
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The first that saw them there, was a Servant we hear,
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Of the murderd Knight, a coming there;
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To fetch his master dear, fearing this Lady fair,
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Had by some false Traytors been misusd.
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Then turning back again, he found his Master slain,
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So going home to tell this fatal News,
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And all that there were, thought this Lady fair,
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Carried them to her Father I declare.
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The Lady of this Knight, unto her bore a spite,
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And had her apprehended out of hand;
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She did confess the deed, and soon told with speed,
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And the whole truth she let them understand.
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She was Condemnd to die, her Fathers Gold did fly,
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Like Chaff before the Wind, her Lfie to save;
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It would not save her Life, for the Knights cruel Wife,
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She said, Her Life, Her Life, is all I crave.
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The fatal Day was come, she must receive her doom,
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When thousands went to hear what she did say;
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When she came to the Tree, both old and young, said she
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Now warning take by me this very Day,
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PART IV.
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FIRST Parents have a care, if ere your Children dear,
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Think fit to marry, do not them deny,
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For fear that love at last, should their glory blast,
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As may be seen by this sad destiny.
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Next Maidens all beware, and have a special care,
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Of Mens deceitful Tongues, that flattering train,
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For if you do consent, to your great discontent,
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When they have you betrayd, they will you disdain.
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Likewise false Men I say, beware how you betray,
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Poor Innocents, it may be your ruin;
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When love does turn to hate, the malice is so great,
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That your destruction does your fancy prove.
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As for example, I poor wretched Soul must die.
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The deed I dont deny, for I did kill
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The Man I lovd so dear, who scornd my Beauty fair,
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For one that was deformd, but yet I still
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Unto the World must own, my Heart is with him gone
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O welcome Death! come execute I pray;
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The tragick part perform, O LORD, I come I come,
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O LORD, receive my Soul thats gone astray.
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After she had spoke, the hangman fixd the Rope,
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The Cart it drew away, the Earth it shook,
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The cries they were so great, that the People did make,
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Thus this Lady fair the world forsook.
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