A lamentable Ballad of the Ladies Fall,
Declaring how a Gentlwoman through her too much trust came to her en[d]
and how her Lover slew himselfe.
The tune of, In Pescod time.
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MArk well my heavy [d]olefull Tale.
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you loyall Lovers all,
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And heedfully bear in your [br]east,
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a gallant Ladies fall.
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Long was she wood, ere she was won
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to lead a wedded life;
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But folly wrought her overthrow,
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before she was a Wife,
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Too soon alas she gave cons[e]nt,
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to yeeld unto his will,
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Though hee protested so be true
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and faithfull to her still,
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She felt her body altered quite,
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her bright hue waxed pale,
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Her fair red cheeks changd colour while,
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her strength began to fail.
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So that with many a sorrowfull sigh,
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this beauteous maiden mild,
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With grieved heart perceivd her self
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to be conceivd with child,
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She kept it from her Fathers sight,
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so close as close might be,
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And so put on her silken Gown,
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none might her swelling see.
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Unto her Lover secretly
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shee did her selfe bewray?
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And walking with him hand in hand,
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these words to him did say.
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Behold said she a Maids distress,
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my Love brought to thy Bow,
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Behold I [?]g with child by thee,
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though none thereof do know.
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The little babe springs in my womb,
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to hear the Fathers voice,
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Let it not be a bastard calld,
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sith I make thee my choice.
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Come come my love perform thy vow,
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and wed me out of hand:
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O leave me not in these extreams,
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in grief alwayes to stand.
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Think on thy former promise made,
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thy vows and Oathe each one,
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Remember with what bitter tears
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to me thou madst thy moan;
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Convey me to some secret place,
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and marry me with speed,
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Or with thy Rapier end my life,
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ere further shame proceed.
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Alas my dearest Love quoth he
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my greatest joy on earth.
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Which way can I convey thee hence
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without a sudden death.
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Thy friends they be of high degree,
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and I of mean estate;
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Full hard it is to get thee forth
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out of thy fathers gate.
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Dread not thy self to save my fame,
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and if thou taken be,
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My self will step between the sw[?]
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and take the harm on me.
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So shall I scape dishonour quite,
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if so I should be slain,
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What could they say but that tru[?]
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did work a Ladies bane.
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ANd fear not any further harm,
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my self will so devise,
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That I will go away with thee,
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unseen of mortall eyes.
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Disguised like some pretty Page,
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Ile meet thee in the dark,
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And all alone Ile come to thee
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had by my Fathers Park.
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And there quoth he Ile meet my love,
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if God lend me life,
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And this day month without all fail,
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I will make thee my wife,
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Then with a sweet an loving kisse,
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they parted presently;
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And at their parting brinish tears
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stood in each others eye.
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At length the wished day was come,
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whereas this lovely maid,
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With lovely eyes and strange attire,
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for her true lover staid.
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When anie person she espid
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come riding over the plain,
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She thought it was her own true love,
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but all her joyes were vain.
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Then did she weep and sore bewail
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her most unhappy state,
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Then did she speak these wofull words
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when succourlesse she sate.
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O false forsworn and faithlesse wretch,
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disloyall to thy Love:
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Hast thou forgot thy promise made,
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and wilt thou perjurd prove.
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And hast thou now forsaken me,
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in this my sad distress;
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To end my daies in open shame,
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which thou mightst well redresse
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Wo worth the the time I did believe
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that flattering tongue of thine,
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Would God that I had never seen
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the tears of thy false eyne.
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And thus with manie a sorrowfull sigh
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homeward she weat amain,
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No rest came in her watrie eies,
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she felt such bitter pain.
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In travell strong they fell that night,
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with many a bitter throw,
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What wofull pangs shee felt that night,
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doth each good woman know.
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She called for her waiting Maid,
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that lay at her beds feet;
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Who musing at her mistresse wo,
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did fast begin to weep.
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Weep not quoth she but shut the door,
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and windows round about;
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Let none bewail my wretched case,
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but keep all persons out.
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O Mistriss call your mother dear,
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of women you have need;
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And of some skilfull midwives help,
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the better may you speed:
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Call not my Mother for thy life,
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nor call no women here,
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The Midwives help comes now too late,
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my death I do not fear.
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With that the babe sprung in her womb,
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no creatour being nigh,
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And with a sigh that broke her heart,
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this gallant Dame did die,
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This living little infant young,
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the Mother being dead,
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Resignd its new received breath,
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to him that had him made.
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Next morning came her Lover true,
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affrighted at this news,
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And he for sorrow slew himself,
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whom each one did accuse.
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The Mother with the new born babe,
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was both laid in one grave,
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Their parents overcome with wo,
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no joy of them could have.
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Take heed you dainty Damsells all,
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of flattering words beware,
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And of the honour of your name
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have you a speciall care;
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Too true this storie is,
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as manie one can tell,
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By others harms learn to be wise,
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and thou shalt do fu l well.
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