VIRTUE and BEAUTY in Danger; Or,
King Edwards Courting the London Virgin.
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FAir angel of England, thy beauty most bright,
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Is all my hearts pleasure, my Joy and delight;
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Then grant me, fair Lady, thy true Love to be,
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That I may say welcome good fortune to mes
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The turtle so chaste and so true in her love,
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By gentle perswasions her fancy will move
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Then be not entreated fair Lady in vain,
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For Nature requireth what I should obtain.
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The Phenix so famous that liveth alone,
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Is vowed to chastity, being but one:
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But be not my darling so chaste in desire,
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Lest thou, like the Phenix dost pennance in fire.
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But, alas! Gentle Lady, I pity your fate,
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In being resolved to live without mate;
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For if of our courting the pleasure you knew,
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You would have a liking the same to ensue.
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Long time have I sued the same to obtain,
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Yet I am requitted with scorn and disdain:
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But if you will grant your good will unto me,
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You shall be advanced to princely degree.
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Promotions and Honour may often entice
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The chasteth that liveth, tho' never so nice:
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What woman so worthy but could be content,
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To live in a palace where princes frequent.
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Two brides young and princely to church I have led
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Two ladies now lately have decked my bed:
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Yet hath thy love taken more root in my heart,
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Than all their contentments, whereof I had part.
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Your gentle heart cannot mens hearts much abide,
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And women least angry, when mostly they chide;
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Then yeild to me kindly, and say that at length,
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Men they want mercy, and women want strength.
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I grant that fair ladies may poor men resist,
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And princes may conquer and woe when they list;
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A King may command her to lye by his side,
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Whose features deserveth to be a King's bride.
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In granting your love, you shall purchase renown,
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Your head shall be crowned with England's crown;
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Thy garments most gallant with gold shall be wrought
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If true love with treasure of thee may be bought.
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Great ladies of honour shall tend on thy train,
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Most richly attir'd with scarlet in grain;
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My chamber most princely thy person shall keep,
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Where virgins with musick shall rock thee to sleep.
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If there's any pleasure thy hear can invent,
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Command them, sweet lady, thy mind to content;
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For kings gallant courts where princes do dwell,
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Affords such sweet pastime as ladies love well.
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Then be not resolved to die a true maid,
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But print in thy bosom these words I have said,
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And grant a King favour, your true love to be,
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That I may say Welcome sweet virgin to me.
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The VIRGIN's Answer.
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O Wanton King Edward, thy labour is vain,
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To follow the pleasure thou can'st not attain,
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With getting thou losest, and having do make it,
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The which if thou purchase, is spoil'd if thou hast it.
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But if thou obtainest it, thou hast nothing won;
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And I lose nothing, yet am quite undone;
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But if of my Jewel, the king does deceive me,
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No king can restore, tho' a kingdom he give me.
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My colour is chang's since you see me last,
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My favour is vanish'd, my beauty is past;
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The rosy red blushes that sat in my cheeck,
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To paleness is turn'd, which all men dislikes.
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I pass not for princes to love, do protest,
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The name of a virgin contenteth me best;
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I have not deserved to lie by thy side,
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Nor yet to be counted for King Edward's Bride.
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The name of a princess I never did crave,
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No such type of honour thy hand-maid will have;
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My breast shall not harbour so lofty a thought,
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Nor be with rich proffers to wantoness brought.
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If wild wanton Rosamond, one of our sort,
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Had never frequented King Henry's fair court:
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Such heaps of deep sorrow she never had seen,
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Nor tasted the rage of so jealous a Queen.
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All men have their freedom to shew their intent,
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They win not a woman except she consent:
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Who then can impute them unto any fault,
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Who still does go upright, until Men make them halt.
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Tis counted a kindness in men for to try,
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And virtue in women the same to deny;
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For women unconstant can never be prov'd,
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Until by their betters therein may be mov'd.
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If women and modesty once do him sever,
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Then farewel good name and credit forever.
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And royal king Edward, let me be exil'd,
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E'er any man knows my body's defil'd.
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No, no, my father's reverend tears
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Too deep an impression within my heart bears,
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Nor shall his bright honour that blot from me have,
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To bring his grey hairs with grief to the grave.
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The heavens forbid that when I shall die,
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That any such thing should upon me lie;
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As I have kept myself from this sin,
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My heart shall not yield with a prince to begin.
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Come rather with pity, and weep on my tomb,
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Then for my birth, curse my dear mother's womb,
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That brought forth a blossom that stained the tree
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With wanton desires to shame her and me.
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Leave off, noble King you tempt but in vain,
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These milk-white affections with lewdness to stain
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Tho' England will give me no comforts at all,
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Yet England will give me a sad-burial.
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