THE TWO Faithful Lover's Tragedy, Shewing, How a young London Merchant fell in Love with a Dutch Lady, and being hindred by their Covetous Parents they both dyed for Love. To the Tune of Hope Farwel.
|
IN London liv'd a Crafty old Miser,
|
who had a Son blest in every degree,
|
In whom kind Nature bestow'd all her Treasure,
|
no one in his Gifts was more happy than he.
|
This Youth by his Father a Merchant was bred,
|
and greatly his Fortunes improv'd by his Trade,
|
His Carriage and Mien so much were admir'd;
|
His Company was by all Persons desir'd.
|
Urgent Occasions to Holland did call him,
|
that he for his Voyage with speed did prepare,
|
But what sad Grief alas! did befall him,
|
you all in the Sequal o' th' Story shall hear;
|
When he of his Friends had taken his leave,
|
who at his departure all greatly did grieve;
|
On Ship board he went, and with a fresh Gale,
|
he plough'd up the waves, and for Holland did fail
|
When he had reach'd the Coast he intended,
|
he presently manag'd his weighty affair:
|
Where he by all was belov'd and befriended
|
so courteous and kind he to all did appear.
|
A crafty Dutch Merchant observing his care,
|
who had a fine Daughter both vertuous and fair,
|
To dine at his House he the Youth did invite,
|
who gladly beheld the young Virgin so Bright.
|
Her Beauty struck him to such admiration,
|
that in his soft heart be kindled a Flame;
|
Which quickly grew to so loving a Passion,
|
he thought he ne'er see so melting a Dame:
|
The beautiful Maid was equally mov'd,
|
she thought the brave Youth did deserve to be [l]ov'd
|
Thus did blind Cupid scatter his Darts,
|
and equally wounded these Lover's tender hearts,
|
Then with kind and feeling Addresses,
|
the Noble young Lover accoasted his Dame;
|
She could not resist his modest Embraces,
|
her heart was possest with so equal a flame:
|
His vertuous attempt he did daily improve,
|
and chiefly pursu'd the blest business of Love,
|
T[i]ll Love in their hearts began to be free,
|
they vow'd to each other they'd ever faithful be.
|
The happy time they appointed to Marry,
|
and things were preparing against the blest day,
|
But here alas! how their hopes did miscarry,
|
what accident happen'd to call him away,
|
A Letter from England from's Father there came,
|
commanding him strait to return home again,
|
And that he with speed must in England arrive,
|
if e'er he would see his poor Father alive.
|
Never was Youth under such a vexation,
|
these tidings did all his comforts destroy,
|
Loaded with such weighty oppressions
|
he put off that bliss he so hop'd to enjoy:
|
Then taking his leave of the flower of his Love,
|
vowing forever be constant would prove,
|
And with all speed fly over the Main,
|
that soon to his dearest he might rerurn again.
|
Then with speed he to England did hast him,
|
but found his old Father recover'd again:
|
Who welcom'd his son and kindly embrace him,
|
and joy'd to see him on this side the Main:
|
The Father a farther Speech then began,
|
and laid his Commands in these words on his son:
|
I have took care to choose you a Bride,
|
a Beautiful Fortune, and must not be deny'd.
|
The Son reply'd, Good Father I beg you
|
don't force me to marry with one you have chose,
|
For I am betroth' to a Virgin already,
|
and urge me not, pray, to forfeit my Vows.
|
The Father fell into a violent Rage,
|
and charg'd him on his blessing with her to en-gage,
|
Or else he must never expect he would own
|
a Child so undutiful to be his Son.
|
His Father forc'd him to make his Addresses,
|
whilst he with her parents the match did conclude
|
The son his first Contract to the Lady confesses,
|
and told her those Vows he resolv'd should stand good:
|
His Constancy she did greatly commend,
|
and told him in all things she would stand his Friend,
|
Rather than's Father's good will he should loose,
|
they'd take it on part his Suit to refuse.
|
By this time a Merchant to Holland went over,
|
who told the Dutch Lady her Love she must loose,
|
That in England he was going to marry another,
|
a Beautiful Fortune his Father had chose.
|
This news convey'd Horror into every part,
|
she burst into tears, in few days broke her heart,
|
Dying she cry'd, as she beat her white Breast,
|
Faithless young Lover thou ne'er shall have rest.
|
That night strange dismal thoughts did possess him
|
as restless upon his Pillow he lay,
|
Whilst these cares and fears did oppress him,
|
a light in his Room shone brighter than day;
|
The Ghost of his Love, crown'd with gold did appear
|
with drops of Blood hanging on every hair,
|
She slowly mov'd on, and approach'd his Bed-side,
|
and with a shrill Voyce to her frighted Love she cry'd.
|
From silent shades I come to discover,
|
I'm she whom you love, now submitted to fate,
|
I heard you paid your Vows to another,
|
but know it's all false, now alas it's too late!
|
The Vows you have made forever maintain,
|
for we in blest shades e'er long shall meet again.
|
By this time the Cock for Morning 'had crew,
|
she vanquish'd in light, and so bid him adieu.
|
Thus he lay in a sad Consternatiun,
|
distracted he grew for loss of his Love,
|
Living but just to give the Relation,
|
and then took his flight to th' Elizium Grove.
|
Between the two Fathers to hear of their grief,
|
would force us to yield them our tears for relief.
|
Parents let this a Warning to ye prove,
|
you ne'er force your Children to falsifie their love.
|
|
|
|
|
|