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EBBA 31794

University of Glasgow Library - Euing
Ballad XSLT Template
A new Ballad shewing how a Prince of England loved the
Kings Daughter of France, and how the prince was disastrously slain and how the aforesaid prin-
cesse was after married to a Forrester. The Tune is Crimson Velvet

IN the dayes of old,
when fair France did flourish,
[S]toryes plainly told
Lovers felt annoy.
[Th]e King a daughter had,
[be]autious bright and lovely,
[Whi]ch made her Father glad,
[she]was his onely joy.
[A Prince] from England came,
[Whose deeds d]id merit fame,
[he woo'd her]long and lo at last,
[Look what he d]id require,
[She granted] his desire
[their heart]s in one was linked fast
[Which] when her Father proved,
[Lord h]ow he was moved,
[an]d tormented in his mind.
[He] fought for to prevent them
And to discontent them,
fortune crossed Lovers kind.

When as these princes twain,
were thus bar'd of pleasure,
Through th Kings disdain,
which their joyes withstood,
The Lady lockt up close,
her Jewels and her treasure,
[Ha]ving no remorce,
of state or Rayall blood.
[In] homely poor array,
[Sh]e got from Court away.
[to] meet her love and hearts delight
[W]ho in a Fo[r]rest great,
Had taken up his Seat,
to watch her coming in the night
But lo what sudden danger,
To this p[r]incely stranger,
chanced as he sat alone.
By Out laws was he robbed,
And with ponia[r]ds stabbed
uttering many a dying groan.

The Princesse armed by him,
and by true desire,
Wandring all that night,
without dread at all.
Still unknown she past,
in her strange attire,
Coming at the last,
wichn Eecho's call.
You fair woods quoth she.
Honoured may you be,
harboring my hearts delight.
Which doth incompasse her,
My joy and only dear,
my trusty friend and comly knight
Sweet I come unto thee,
Sweet I come to woo thee,
that thou mayst not angry be.
For my long delaying,
And thy courteous staying
amends for all Ile make to thee.

Passing thus alone,
through the silent Forrest,
Many a grievous groan
sounded in her ear.
Where she heard a man,
to lament the forest,
Chance that ever came,
forc'd by deadly strife,
Farewell my dear quoth he,
Whom I shall never see,
for who my life is at an end,
For thy sweet sake I dye,
Through Villains cruelty
to shew I am a faithfull Friend,
Here lye I a bleeding,
While my thoughts are feeding,
on the rarest beauty found,
O hard hap that may be,
Little knows my Lady,
my heart blood lye on the ground.

With that he gave a gro[?]n,
that did break in sunder,
All the tender strings,
of his gentle heart.
She who knew his voyce,
at his tale did wonder,
All her former joys,
did to grief convert,
Straight she ran to see,
Who this man should be,
that so like her Lord did speak,
And found when as she came,
Her lovely Lord lay slain,
smeard in blood which life did break
Which when she had espyed,
Lord how sore she cryed,
her sorrows cannot counted be,
Her eyes like Fountains running,
While she cry'd out my Darling,
would God that I had dy'd for thee.

His pale lips alas
twenty times she kissed,
And his face did wash,
with her brinish tears,
Every bleeding wound,
her fair eyes bedewen,
Wiping off his blood,
with her golden hair,
Speak my love quoth she
Speak fair Prince to me,
one sweet word of comfort give.
Lift up thy fair eyes
Listen to my cryes,
think in what great grief I live,
All in vain she sued
All in vain she wooed,
the Princes life was fled and gone
There stood she still mourning,
Till the Suns approaching,
and bright day was coming on.

The second part, To the same tune,

IN this great distresse,
quoth the Royall Lady,
Who can now express,
what will become of me,
To my Fathers Court,
never will I wander,
But some service seek,
where I may placed be,
While thus she made her moan,
Weeping all alone,
in this deep and deadly fear,
A Forrester all in green,
Most comely to be seen,
ranging the wood did find her there,
Round beset with sorrow.
Maid quoth he good Morrow,
what hard hap hath brought you here
Harder hap did never,
Chance to a maiden ever,
here lyes slain my brother dear.
Where might I be placed.
gentle Forrester tell me,
Where should I procure,
a service in my need,
Pains I will not spare,
but will do my duty,
Ease me of my care,
help my extream need,
The Forrester all amazed,
On her beauty gazed,
till his heart was set on fire,
If fair Maid quoth he,
You will go with me,
you shall have your hearts desire,
He brought her to his mother.
And above all other
he set forth this Maidens praise,
Long was his heart inflamed,
At length her love he gained,
so fortune did his glory raise.

Thus unknown he matcht
with the Kings fair daughter,
Children seven he had,
ere she to him was known,
But when he understood,
she was a Royall Princesse,
By this means at last,
he shewed forth her fame.
He cloath'd his children then,
Not like to other men,
in party colours strange to see,
The Right side cloath of gold,
The left side to behold,
of woollen cloth still framed he,
Men thereat did wonder,
Golden fame did thunder,
this strange deed in every place,
The King of France came thither,
B[e]ing pleasant weather,
in those woods the Hart to Chase.

The children they did stand,
as their mother willed,
Where the Royall King,
must of force come by,
Their Mother Richly clad,
in fair Crimson Velvet.
Their Father all in gray,
most comely to the eye.
When this famous King,
Noted every thing,
did ask how he durst be so bold,
To let his wife to wear,
And deck his children there,
in costly Robes with cloth of gold,
The Forrester bold replyed,
And the cause descryed,
and eo the King he thus did say,
Well may they by their Mother,
Wear rich gold with other,
being by birth a princesse gay.

The King upon these words,
more heedfully beheld them.
Till a crimson blush,
his conceit did crosse.
The more I look quoth he,
upon thy wife and children,
The more I call to mind,
my daughter whom I lost,
I am that child quoth she,
Falling on her knee
pardon me my Soveraign liege,
The King perceiving this,
His daughter dear did kisse,
till joyfull tears did stop his speech,
With his train he turned,
And with her sojourned,
straight he dub'd her husband knigt
He made him Earl of Flanders,
One of his chief Commanders,
thus was their sorrow put to flight


Printed for F. Coles, T. Vere, and W. Gilbertson,

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