[A] Warning-piece to England, against Pride and Wickedness, being the Fall of Queen Eleanor, Wife to Edward
the First, King of England; who for her Pride and GODs Judgments, sunk into the Ground at Charing-cross, and rose at
Queen-hith. To the Tune of, Gentle and Courteous.
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WHen Edward was in England King,
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the First of all that name,
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Proud Elenor he made his Queen,
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a stately Spanish Dame:
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Whose wicked Life and sinful Pride,
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through England did excel,
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To dainty Dames and gallant Maids,
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this Queen was known full well:
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She was the first that did invent
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in Coaches brave to ride,
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She was the first that brought this Land
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to deadly Sin of Pride:
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No English Taylor here could serve
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to make her rich Attire,
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But sent for Taylors into Spain,
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to feed her vain desire.
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They brought in Fashions strange and new,
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with Golden Garments bright,
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The Farthingale and mighty Kuff,
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with Gowns of rich Delight:
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You London Dames in Spanish Pride,
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did flourish every-where;
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Our English Men like Woman then;
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did wear long Locks of Hair.
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Both Man and Child both Maid and Wife,
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were drownd in Pride of Spain,
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And thought the Spanish Taylors then
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our English Men did stain:
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Whereat the Queen did much dispight,
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to see our English Men
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In Vestures clad, as brave to see
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as any Spaniard then.
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She cravd the King, That every man
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that wore long Locks of Hair,
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Might then be cut and polled all,
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or shavd very near.
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Whereat the King did seem content,
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and soon thereto agreed,
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And first commanded that his own
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should then be cut with speed.
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And after that, to please his Queen,
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proclaimed through the Land,
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That every Man that wore long Hair,
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should pole him out of hand:
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But yet this Spaniard not content,
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to Woman bore a spight,
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And then requested of the King,
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against all Law and Right,
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That every Womankind should have
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their right Breast cut away,
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And then with burning Irons seard,
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the blood to stanch and stay!
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King Edward then perceiving well,
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her spight to Womankind,
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Devised soon by policy,
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and turnd her bloody mind,
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He sent for burning Irons straight,
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all sparkling hot to see,
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And said, O Queen, come on thy way,
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I will begin with thee.
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Which words did much displease the Queen,
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that Penance to begin,
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But askt him Pardon on her knees,
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who gave her Grace therein.
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But afterwards she chancd to pass
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along have London streets,
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Whereas the Mayor of Londons Wife,
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in stately sort she meets;
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With Musick, Mirth and Melody,
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unto the Church they went,
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To give God Thanks that to th Lord Mayor
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a noble Son had sent.
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It grieved much this spightful Queen,
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to see that any one,
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Should so exceed in Mirth and Joy,
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except herself alone;
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For which she after did devise,
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within her bloody mind,
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And practisd still most secretly,
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to kill this Lady kind:
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Unto the Mayor of London then,
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she sent her Letters straight,
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To send his Lady to the Court,
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upon her Grace to wait;
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But when the London Lady came
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before proud Elenors face,
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She stript her from her rich Array,
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and kept her vile and base.
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She sent her into Wales with speed,
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and kept her secret there,
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And usd her still most cruelly,
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that ever Man did hear:
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She made her wash, she made her starch,
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she made her drudge alway,
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She made her nurse up Children small,
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and labour night and day.
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But this contented not the Queen,
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but shewd her most dispight,
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She bound this Lady to a Post,
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at twelve a clock at Night;
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And as poor Lady she stood bound,
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the Queen in angry mood,
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Did set two Snakes unto her Breast,
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that suckt away her blood.
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Thus dyed the Mayor of Londons Wife,
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most grievous for the hear,
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Which made the Spaniard grow more proud,
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as after shall appear:
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The Wheat that daily made her Bread,
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was bolted twenty times,
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The Food that fed this stately Dame,
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was boyld in costly Wines;
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The Water that did spring from Ground,
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she would not touch at all,
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But washt her hands with Dew of Heaven,
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that on sweet Roses fall;
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She bathd her body many a time,
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in Fount[a]ins filld with Milk,
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And every day did change Attire,
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in costly Median Silk.
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But coming then to London back,
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within her Coach of Gold,
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A Tempest strange within the Skies,
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this Queen did there behold;
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Out of which Storm she could not go,
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but there remaind a space,
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Four Horses could not stir the Coach
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a foot out of the place.
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A Judgement lately sent from Heaven,
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for shedding guiltless Blood,
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Upon this sinful Queen, that slew
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the London Lady good:
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King Edward then, as Wisdom willd,
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accusd her of that Deed;
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But she denyd, and wisht that God
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would send his Wrath with speed,
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If that upon so vile a thing,
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her heart did ever think,
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She wisht the Ground might open wide
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and she therein might sink;
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With that, at Charing-cross she sunk
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into the Ground alive,
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And after rose with Life again,
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in London, at Queen-hith.
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When after that she languisht sore
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full twenty days in pain,
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At last confest the Ladys Blood,
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her guilty hand had slain;
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And likewise how that by a Fryer,
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she had a base-born Child,
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Whose sinful Lusts and Wickedness.
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her Marriage-bed defild,
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Thus have you heard the Fall of Prid,
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a just Reward of Sin,
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For those that will forswear themselves
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Gods vengeance daily win;
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Beware of Pride, ye Courtly Dames,
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both Wives and Maidens all,
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Bear this imprinted in your mind,
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That PRIDE must have a Fall.
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