A Lamentable BALLAD
OF
Fair ROSAMOND,
King Henry the Seconds Concubine,
Who was put to Death by Queen ELINOR, in the Famous Bower of Wood-
stork, near Oxford. To the Tune of, Flying Fame, etc.
Licensd and Enterd according to Order.
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WHen as King Henry ruld this Land,
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the Second of that Name,
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Besides the Queen he dearly lovd,
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a fair and comely Dame:
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Most peerless was he beauty found,
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her favour and her face,
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A sweeter Creature in this World,
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did never Prince imbrace:
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Her trisped locks like threads of gold,
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appeard to each Mans sight,
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Her comely eyes like orient pearls,
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did cast a heavenly light:
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The blood within her cristal cheeks,
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did such a colour drive,
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As though the Lilly and the Rose,
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for mastership did strive.
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Yea, Rosamond, fair Rosamond,
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her name was called so,
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To whome Dame Elinor our Queen,
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was known a deadly Foe,
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The King therefore for her Defence,
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against the furious Queen,
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At Woodstock builded such a Bower,
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the like was never seen:
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Most curiously that Bower was built,
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of Stone and Timber strong,
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A hundred and fifty Doors
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did to this Bower belong,
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And they so cunningly contrivd,
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with turnings round about,
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That none but with a Clew of Thread,
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could enter in or out.
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And for his Love and Ladys sake,
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that was so fair and bright,
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The keeping of this Bower he gave
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unto a valiant Knight:
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But Fortune that doth often frown,
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where it before did smile,
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The Kings Delight, the Ladys Joy
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full soon she did beguile.
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For why, the Kings Ungracious Son,
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whom he did high advance,
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Against his Father raised Wars,
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within the Realm of France;
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But yet before our Comely King
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the English Land forsook,
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Of Rosamond his Lady fair
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his Farewel thus he took:
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My Rosamond, my only Rose,
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that pleasest best mine eye,
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The fairest Flower in all the World,
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to feed my fantasie:
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The Flower of my affected Heart,
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whose sweetness doth excel,
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My Royal Rose a hundred times,
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I bid thee now farewel.
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For I must leave my fairest flower,
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my sweetest Ro[s]e a space,
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And cross the Sea[s] to famous France,
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proud Rebels to abase:
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But yet my Rose b[e] sure thou shalt
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my coming short[l]y see,
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And in my heart w[h]en hence I am,
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Ill bear my Ros[e] with me.
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When Rosamond, that Lady bright,
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did hear the King say so,
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The sorrow of her grieved heart
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her outward loo[k]s did show;
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And from her clear [a]nd cristal eyes
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the tears gusht o[u]t apace,
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Which like the silve[r] pearled dew
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ran down her co[m]ely face.
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Her lips like to the [c]oral red,
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did wax both wa[n] and pale,
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And for the sorrow [h]e conceivd,
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her vital spirits [d]id fail:
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And falling down a[l] in a swound,
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before King Hen[r]ys face,
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Full oft within his P[r]incely Arms,
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her body did imbr[a]ce.
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And twenty times with watery eyes
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he kist her tender ch[e]ek.
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Until he had revivd again
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her senses mild and meek:
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Why grieves my Rose, my sweetest Rose?
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the King did often say,
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Because, quoth she, to bloody Wars
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my Lord must pass away.
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But since your Grace in Forraign Coasts
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amongst your Foes unkind,
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Must go to hazard life and limb,
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why should I stay behind?
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Nay, rather let me like a Page
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thy Sword and Target bear,
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That on my breast the Blow may light,
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that should offend you there.
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O let me in your Royal Tent
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prepare your Bed at night,
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And with sweet baths refresh your Grace
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at your return from Fight;
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So I your Presence may injoy,
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no toyl I will refuse,
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But wanting you my Life is Death.
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which doth, true Love abuse.
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Content thyself, my dearest Love,
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thy rest at home shall be,
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In Englands sweet and pleasant Soil,
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for Travel fits not thee:
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Fair Ladies brook no bloody Wars,
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sweet Peace their pleasures breed,
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The Nourisher of Hearts Content,
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which Fancy first did feed.
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My Rose shall rest in Woodstock-Bower,
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with Musick sweetly dight,
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Whilst I among the piercing Pikes
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against my Foes do fight:
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My Rose in Robes of Pearl and Gold,
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with Diamonds richly dight,
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Shall dance the Galliards of my Love,
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while I my Foes do smite.
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And you Sir Thomas whom I trust,
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to be my Loves Defence,
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Be careful of my gallant Rose,
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when I am parted hence:
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And therewithal he fetcht a sigh,
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as though his heart would break;
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And Rosamond for very Grief,
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not one plain word could speak:
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And at their parting well they might,
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in heart be grieved sore,
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After that day fair Rosamond,
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the King did see no more:
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For when his Grace was past the Seas,
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and into France was gone,
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Queen Elinor with envious heart,
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to Woodstock came anon.
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And forth she calls this trusty Knight,
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which kept this curious Bower,
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Who with his Clew of twined Thread,
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came from the famous Flower:
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And when that they had wounded him,
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the Queen his Thread did get,
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And went where Lady Rosamond
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was like an Angel set.
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But when the Queen with steadfast eye,
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beheld her heavenly face,
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She was amazed in her mind
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at her exceeding Grace:Cast off from thee these Robes (she said)
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that rich and costly be,
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And drink thou up this deadly Draught,
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which I have brought to thee.
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But presently upon her knees
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sweet Rosamond did fall,
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And Pardon of the Queen she cravd
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for her offences all:
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Take pity on my youthful years,
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(fair Rosamond did cry)
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And let me not with Poison strong
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enforced be to die.
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I will renounce my sinful Life,
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and in some Cloyster bide
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Or else be banished if you please,
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to range the World so wide;
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And for the Fault that I have done,
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though I was forcd thereto,
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Preserve my life and punish me,
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as you think good to do.
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And with these words her lilly hands,
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she wrung full often there,
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And down along her comely face,
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proceeded many a tear:
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But nothing could this furious Queen,
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therewith appeased be,
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The Cup of deadly Poyson strong,
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as she sat on her knee,
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She gave this comely Dame to drink,
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who took it in her hand,
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And from her bended knee arose,
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and on her feet did stand:
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And casting up her eyes to Heaven,
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she did for mercy call,
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And drinking up the Poyson strong,
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her Life she lost withal.
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And when that Death through every limb,
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had done her greatest spight,
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Her chiefest Foes did there confess,
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she was a glorious [w]ight:
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Her Body then they did entomb,
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when Life was fled away,
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At Woodstock, near to Oxford Town,
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as may be seen this Day.
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