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EBBA 33321

National Library of Scotland - Crawford
Ballad XSLT Template
A most Notable Example of an Ungracious Son
who in pride of his heart denyed his own Father, and how for his offence, turned
his Meat to loathsome Toads.
To the Tune of, Lord Derby.

IN searching famous Chronicles,
it was my chance to read,
A worthy Story strange and true
whereto I took good heed:
Betwixt a Father and a Son,
this rare Example stands,
Which well may move the hardest hearts
to weep and wring their hands.

A Farmer in the Country liv'd,
whose substance did excell,
He sent therefore his eldest Son,
in Paris for to dwell.
Where he became a Merchant man,
and Traffick great he used,
So that he was exceeding Rich,
till he himself abused:

For having now the world at will,
his mind was fully bent,
To Gaming Wine, and Wantonness,
till all his Goods were spent:
Yet through excessive Rioutness,
by him was shewed forth,
That he was three times more in Debt,
than all his wealth was worth.

At length his Credit quite was crackt,
and he in Prison cast,
And every man against him then,
did set his Act on fast:
Then he lay lockt in Irons strong,
forever and for aye,
Unable while his life did last,
this grievous Debt to pay.

And living in this woful case,
his eyes with tears he spent,
The lewdness of his former life,
too late he did repent:
And being void of all relief,
of help and comfort quite,
Unto his Father at the last,
he thus began to write:

Bow down a while your heedful ear,
my loving Father dear,
And grant, I pray, in gracious sort,
my piteous plaint to hear;
Forgive the foul offences all
of your unworthy Son,
Which through the lewdness of his life,
hath now himself undone:

O my good Father, take remorse,
on this my extream need,
And succour his distressed case,
whose heart for wo doth bleed:
In direful Dungeon here I lye,
my feet in Fetters fast,
Where my most cruel Creditors,
in Prison have me cast.

Let pitty therefore pierce your breast,
and mercy move your mind,
And to release my misery,
some shift dear Father find,
My chiefest chear is bread full brown,
the boards my softest Bed,
And flinty stones my pillows serve
to rest my troubled head.

MY Garments all are worn to rags,
my body starves with cold,
And creeping vermine eat my flesh,
most grievous to behold:
Dear Father, come therefore with speed,
and rid me out of thrall,
And let me not in Prison dye,
sith for your help I call:

The good old man no sooner had
perus'd this written scroul,
But trickling tears along his cheeks,
most plenteously did rowl:
Alas my Son, my Son, quoth he;
in whom I joy'd most,
Thou shalt not long in Prison lye,
whatever it may cost.

Two hundred head of well fed Beast,
he changed into Gold,
Four hundred quarters of good Corn,
for Silver eke he sold:
But all the same could not suffice
this hanious fact to pay,
Till at the last constrained was,
to sell his Land away:

Then was his Son released quite,
his Debt discharged clean,
And he as like and well to live,
as he before had been:
Then when his loving Father dear,
who for to help his son,
Had sold his living quite away,
and eke himself undone:

So that he lived poor and bare,
and in such extream need,
That many times he wanted food,
his hungry Corps to feed.

His Son mean time in wealth did grow,
whose substance now was such,
That sure within the City then,
few men were found so Rich

But as his Goods did still increase,
and Riches it did slide,
So more and more his harded heart,
did swell in hateful pride,
It fell out upon a time,
when ten years woe was past.
Unto his son he did repair,
for some relief at last:

And being come unto his house,
in very poor array,
It chanced so that with his son,
great store should dine that day:
The poor old man with Hat in hand,
did then the Porter Pray,
To shew his son, that at the Gate
his Father there did stay:

Whereat this proud disdainful wretch,
with taunting speeches said,
That long ago his fathers bones
within the Grave was laid:
What Rascal then is this? quoth he,
that staineth thus my state,
I charge thee Porter presently,
to drive him from my Gate.

Which answer when the old-man heard,
he was in mind dismay'd,
He wept, he wail'd, and wrung his hands,
and thus at length he said:
O cursed wretch and most unkind,
and worker of my woe,
Thou Monster of humanity,
and eke thy fathers foe.

Have I been careful of thy case,
maintaining still thy State,
And dost thou now most doggedly,
enforce me from thy Gate,
And have I wrong[']d thy Brethren all,
from thrall to set thee free,
And brought myself to Beggers state,
and all to succour thee!

Woe worth the time that first of all
thy body I espy'd,
Which hath in hardness of thy heart,
thy Fathers face deny'd,
But now behold how God that time,
did shew a wonder great,
Even when his Son and all his Friends
were sitting down to meat:

For when the fairest Pye was cut,
a strange and dreadful case,
Most ugly Toads came crawling out,
and leaped in his face:
Then did this wretch his fault confess,
and for his father sent,
And for his great ingratitude,
full sore he did repent.

All vertuous Children learn by this,
obedient hearts to show,
And honour still your Parents dear,
for God commanded so.
And think how he did turn his Meat
to poysonous Toads indeed,
Which did his fathers face deny,
because he stood in need.


FINIS.
Printed for Alex. Milbourn at the Statio[-]
ners-Arms in Green-Arbor-Court in th[e]
Little Old-Baily.

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