The most Rare and Excellent History,
Of the Dutchess of Suffolks Calamity.
To the Tune of, Queen Dido.
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WHen God had taken for our sin,
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that prudent Prince K. Edward away,
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Then bloody Bonner did begin
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his raging malice to bewray:
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All those that did Gods word profess,
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He Prosecuted more or less.
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Thus whilst the Lord on us did lowre,
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many in Prison he did throw,
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Tormenting them in Lollards Tower
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whereby they might the truth forego:
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Then Cranmer, Ridley, and the rest,
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Were burning in the fire, that Christ profest.
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Smithfield was then with Faggots filld,
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and many places more beside,
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At Coventry was Saunders killd,
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at Woster eke good Hooper dyd;
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And to escape this bloody da[y],
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Beyond Sea many fled away.
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Amongst the rest that sought relief,
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and for their faith in danger stood
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Lady Elizabeth was chief,
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King Henrys Daughter of Royal blood,
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Which in the Tower did Prisoner lie,
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Looking each day when she should die.
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The Dutches of Suffolk seeing this,
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whose life likewise the tyrant sought,
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Who in the hopes of Heavenly bliss,
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within Gods words her comfort wrought:
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For fear of Death was forcd to flie,
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and leave their House most secretly.
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That for the love of God alone,
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her Land and Goods she left behind;
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Seeking still for that precious stone,
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the word and truth so rare to find:
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She with her Nurse Husband and Child,
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in poor array their sighs beguild.
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Thus through London they passed a long
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each one did take a several street,
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Thus all along escaping wrong,
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at Billingsgate they all did meet,
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Like people poor in Graves-end Barge,
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They simple went with all their charge.
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and all along from Graves-end-Town,
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with journeys short on foot they went,
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Unto the Sea-coast came they down,
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to pass the Seas was their intent.
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and God provided so that day,
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That they took Ship and sailld away.
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and with a prosperous gale of wind,
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in Flanders they did safe arrive
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This was to their great ease of mind,
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and from their heavy heart much woe did drive,
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and so with thanks to God on high,
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They took their way to Germany.
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Thus as they traveld still disguisd,
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upon the high-way suddenly,
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By cruel Theives they were surprizd
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assaling their small company:
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and all their treasures and their store,
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They took away and beat them sore.
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The Nurse in midst of all their fight
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laid down the Child upon the ground,
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She ran away out of their sight,
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and never after that was found,
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Then did the Dutches make great moan,
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With her good Husband all alone.
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The thieves had there their Horses killd,
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and all their money quite had took,
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The pretty Baby almost spoild,
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was by the Nurse likewise forsook:
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and they far from their friends did stand,
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and succourless in a strange Land.
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The Sky likewise began to scowl,
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it haild and raind in piteous sore,
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The way was long and wondrous foul,
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then may I now full well report,
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Their grief and sorrow was not small,
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When this unhappy chance did fall.
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SOmetimes the Dutchess bore the Child,
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as wet as ever she could be,
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And when the Lady kind and mild,
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was weary than the Child bore he,
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And thus they one another easd,
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And with their fortunes well was pleasd,
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And after many a weary step,
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all wet-shod both in dirt and mire
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After much grief their hearts yet leaps,
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for labour doth some rest require,
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A town before them they did see,
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But lodged there they coul not be.
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From house to house then they did go,
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seeking that night where they might lye,
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But want of Money was their woe,
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and still their Babe with cold doth cry,
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With Cap and Knee they courtesie make,
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But one of them would pitty take.
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Loe here a Princess of great blood,
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doth pray a Peasant for releif,
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With tears bedewed as she stood,
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yet few or none regard her grief,
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Her speech they could not understand,
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But gave [h]er money in her hand.
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When all in vain her speeches spent,
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and that they could not house-room get,
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Into a Church Porch then they went,
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to stand out of the rain and wet:
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Then said the Dutches to her Dear,
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O that we had some fire here.
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Then did her Husband so provide,
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that fire and coles they got with speed,
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She sat down by the fire-side,
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to dress her Daughter that had need:
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And whilst she drest it in her lap,
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Her Husband made the Infant pap.
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Anon the Sexton thither came,
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and finding them there by the fire,
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The Drunken Knave all void of shame,
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to drive them out was his desire,
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And spurned out the noble Dame,
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Her Husbands wrath he did inflame.
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And all in fury as he stood,
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he wrung the Church-Keys out of his hand.
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And struck him so that all the blood,
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his head ran down as he did stand,
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Wherefore the Sexton presently,
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For aid and help aloud did cry.
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Then came the Officers in hast,
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and took the Dutches and her Child,
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And with her Husband thus they past,
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like lambs beset with tygers wild:
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And to the Governer was brought,
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Who understood them not in ought.
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Then Master Betrue brave and bold,
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in Latine made a gallant speech,
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Which all their misers did unfold,
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and their high favour did beseech.
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With that a Doctor sitting by,
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Did know the Dutches presently.
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And thereupon arising straight,
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with words abashed at this sight,
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Unto them all that there did wait,
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he thus broke forth in words aright
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Behold within your sight, quoth he,
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A Princess of most high degree.
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With that the Governour and all the rest,
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were much amazd the same to hear,
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Who Welcomed this new come Guest,
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with reverence great and princely chear.
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And afterward conveyd they were,
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Unto their Friend Prince Cassimere.
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A Son she hath in Germany,
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Peregrine Bertue calld by Name;
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Surnamd the good Lord Willoughby,
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of Courage great and worthy fame:
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Her Daughter young that with her went,
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Was afterwards Countess of Kent.
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For when Queen Mary was Deceasd,
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the Dutches home returnd again,
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Who was of sorrow quite releast,
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by Queen Elizabeths happy Reign:
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Whose Godly Life and Piety,
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We may praise continually.
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