A lamentable Dittie composed upon the death of
Robert Lord Devereux late Earle of Essex, who was beheaded in the
Tower of London, upon Ashwednesday in the morning. 1601.
To the tune of Welladay.
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SWeet Englands pride is gone
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welladay welladay,
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Which makes her sigh and grone
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evermore still:
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He did her fame advance,
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In Ireland Spaine and France,
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And now by dismall chaunce,
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is from her tane.
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He was a vertuous Peere,
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welladay welladay,
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And was esteemed deere
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evermore still:
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He alwaies helpt the poore,
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Which makes them sigh full sore
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his death they doe deplore,
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In every place.
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Brave honor gracd him still
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gallantly gallantly,
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He nere did deede of ill,
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well is it knowne:
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But envie that foule fiend
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Whose mallice nere hath end,
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hath brought true vertues friend
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Unto his thrall.
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At Tilt he did surpasse
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gallantly gallantly:
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all men that is and was
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evermore still:
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One day as it was seene,
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In honour of his Queene,
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Such deeds hath nere been seen,
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As he did doe.
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Abroade and eke at home,
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gallantly, gallantly,
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For vallour there was none,
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like him before:
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In Ireland France and Spaine,
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(They feared great Essex name,
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And England lovd the same,
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In every place.
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But all would not prevaile
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welladay welladay:
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His deedes did nought availe,
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more was the pittie:
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He was condemnd to die,
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For treason certainely,
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But God that sits on hie
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Knoweth all things.
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That Sunday in the morne,
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welladay welladay:
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That he to the Cittie came,
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with all his troupe:
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That first began the strife,
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And caused him loose his life,
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And others did the like,
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As well as hee.
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Yet her Princely Majestie
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gratiously, gratiously,
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Hath pardon given free
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to many of them:
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She hath released them quite,
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And given them their right,
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they may pray both day & night
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God to defend her.
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Shrovetewesday in the night
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welladay, welladay,
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With a heavy harted spright
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as it is sayd:
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The leiftenant of the Tower
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Who kept him in his power,
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At ten a clocke that hour,
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To him did come.
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And sayd unto him there,
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mournefully, mournfully,
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My Lord you must prepare,
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to die tomorrow:
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Gods will be done quoth he,
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Yet shall you strangely see,
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God strong in me to be,
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Though I am weake.
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I pray you pray for me
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welladay, welladay,
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That God may strengthen me,
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against that houre:
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Then straightway did he call,
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The Guard under the wall,
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And did intreate them all
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For him to pray.
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For tomorrow is the day
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welladay welladay,
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That I the debt must pay,
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which I doe owe:
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It is my life I meane,
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Which I must pay my Queene,
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Even soe hath justice given,
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That I must doe.
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In the morning was he brought,
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welladay welladay:
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Where a Scaffold was set up,
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within the Tower:
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Many Lords were present then,
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With other Gentlemen,
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Which were appointed then
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T[o] see him dye.
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You noble Lords quoth he
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welladay welladay,
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That must the witnesse be,
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of this my death:
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Know I never loved Papistrye,
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But did it still defye,
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And Essex thus did dye,
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Heere in this place.
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I have a sinner been
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welladay welladay:
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Yet never wrongd my Queene
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in all my life,
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My God I did offend,
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Which grieves me at my end,
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May all the rest amend,
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I doe forgive them.
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To the state I nere ment ill
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welladay, welladay,
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Neither wisht the commons ill
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in all my life:
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But loved all with my heart,
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And alwaies tooke their part,
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Whhereas there was desert,
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In any place.
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Then mildely did he crave
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mournefully mournefully,
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He might that favour have
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private to pray:
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He then prayed heartely,
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And with great fervency,
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To God that sits on hie,
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For to receive him.
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And then he prayed againe
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mournefully mournefully,
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God to preserve his Queene
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from all her foes:
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And send her long to raigne,
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True Justice to maintaine,
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And not to let proude Spaine,
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Once to offend her.
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His gowne he slipt off then
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welladay welladay,
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And put off his hat and band
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and hung it by,
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Praying still continually,
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To God that sits on hie,
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That he might paciently,
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There suffer death.
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My headesman that must be,
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then said he cheerefullie,
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Let him come heere to me,
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That I may him see:
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Who kneeled to him then,
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Art thou (quoth he) the man,
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Which art appointed now,
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my life to free.
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Yes my Lord did he say
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welladay, welladay,
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Forgive me I you pray
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for this your death:
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I heare doe thee forg[ive]
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And may true justice live,
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No foule crime to forgive,
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Within their place.
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Then he kneeled downe againe,
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mournefully mournefully:
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And was required by some
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there standing by:
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To forgive his enemies,
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Before death closde his eyes,
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Which he did in heartie wise,
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Thanking them for it:
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That they would remember him
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welladay, welladay:
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That he might forgive all them,
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that had him wrongd:
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Now my Lords I take my leave
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Sweet Christ my soule receive,
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Now when you wil I prepare,
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For I am readie.
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He laide his head on the blocke,
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welladay welladay:
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But his doublet did let the stroke
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some there did say:
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What must be done (quoth he)
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Shall be done presently,
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Then his doublet off put hee,
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and laye downe againe.
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Then his headesman did his part
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cruelly, cruelly,
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He was never seene to start,
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For all the blowes:
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His soule it is at rest,
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in heaven among the blest,
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Where God send us to rest,
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When it shall please him.
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