PATIENT GRISSEL
AND
A Noble MARQUESS, To the Tune of The Bride's Good Morrow.
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A Noble Marquess as he did ride a Hunting,
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hard by a River side,
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A proper Maiden she did sit a Spinning,
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his gentle Eye espy'd;
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Most fair and lovely, and of comely Grace was she
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altho' in simple Attire,
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She sang most sweet with pleasant Voice melodiously,
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The more he lookt, the more he might,
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Beauty bred his Heart's Delight;
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and to this Damsel he went.
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God speed, quoth he, thou famous Flower,
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Fair Mistress of this homely Bower,
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Where Love and Vertue lives with sweet Content,
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With comely gesture, and modest mild behaviour,
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She bad him welcome then,
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She entertain'd him in faithful friendly manner,
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and all his Gentlemen.
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The noble Marquess in his Heart felt such a Flame,
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which set his Senses all at Strife,
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Quoth he fair Maiden shew soon what is thy Name?
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I mean to take thee to my wife,
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Grissel is my Name, quoth she,
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Fare unfit for your Degree,
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a silly Maiden, and of Parents poor,
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Nay Grissel thou art Rich, he said,
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a vertuous fair and comely Maid;
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Grant me thy Love and I will ask no more.
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At length she consented and been both contented,
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they married were with speed;
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Her Country Russet was turn'd to Silk and Velvet,
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as to her State agreed;
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And when that she was trimly tried in the same,
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her Beauty shin'd most bright;
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For staining every other brave and comely Dame,
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that did appear in her Sight;
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Many envied her therefore,
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because she was of Parents poor,
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And 'twixt her Lord and her great Strife did raise,
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Some said this, and same said that,
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Some did call her Beggar's Brat,
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And to her Lord they would her often dispraise,
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O noble Marquess quoth they, why do you wrong us
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thus basely for to wed,
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That might have got an Honourable Lady,
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into your Princely Bed,
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Who will not now your noble Issue still deride,
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which shall be hereafter born,
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That are of Blood so base by the Mother's side,
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the which will bring them to scorn,
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Put her therefore quite away,
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take to you a Lady gay,
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Whereby your Lineage may renowned be,
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Thus every Day they seem'd to prate,
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That malic'd Grissels good Estate,
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who took all this most mild and patiently
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when that the Marquess did see that they were bent thus,
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against his faithful Wife,
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who most dearly and tenderly he lov'd as his Life,
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Minding in secret for to prove her Patient heart,
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thereby her Foes to disgrace:
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Thinking to play a hard discourteous part,
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that Men might pity her Case;
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Great with Child this Lady was,
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And at length it came to pass,
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Two lovely Children at one Birth she had,
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A Son and Daughter God had sent,
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which did their Father well content,
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and which did make their Mother's heart full glad.
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Great Royal Feasting were at the Children's Christening,
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and princely Triumph made,
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Six weeks together all Nobles that came thither,
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were entertain'd and staid;
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And when that these pleasant Sportings quite were [done]
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the Marquess a Messenger [sent],
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For his young Daughter, and his pretty smiling Son,
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declaring his full Intent,
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How that the Babes must murthered be,
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For so the Marquess did decree.
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Come let me have the Children he said,
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with that fair Grissel wept full sore,
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She wrung her Hands and said no more,
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My gracious Lord must have his will obey'd,
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She took the Babies from the Nursing Ladies,
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Between her tender Arms,
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She often wishes with many sorrowful Kisses,
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that She might help their Harms;
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Farewel, quoth she, my Children dear,
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never shall I see you again;
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'Tis along of me your sad and woful Mother dear,
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for whose sake you must be slain;
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Had I been born of royal Race,
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You might have liv'd in happy Case,
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but now you must die for my Unworthiness,
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Come Messenger of Death quoth she,
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Take my despised Babes to thee.
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and to their Father my Complaint express,
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He took the Children, and to his noble Master,
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he brought them forth with speed,
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Who secretly sent them unto a noble Lady,
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to be nurst up indeed.
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Then to fair Grissel with a heavy heart he goes,
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where she sat mildly all alone.
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A pleasant Gesture, and a lovely Look she shows,
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as if Grief she had never known,
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Quoth he, my Children now are slain,
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What thinks fair Grissel of the same?
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sweet Grissel now declare thy Mind to me.
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Since you my Lord are pleas'd with it,
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Poor Grissel thinks the Action fit,
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both I and mine at your Command will be,
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The Nobles murmur fair Grissel at thine Honour,
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and I no Joy can have,
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'Till thou be banish'd from my Court and Presence,
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as they unjustly crave,
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Thou must be stript out of thy Stately Garments,
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and as thou camest to me,
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In homely gray, instead of Silk and purest Pall,
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Now all thy Cloathing must be;
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My Lady thou must be no more,
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Nor I thy Lord, which grieves me sore;
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The poorest Life must now content thy Mind,
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A Groat to thee I may not give,
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Thee to maintain while I do live,
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Against my Grissel such great Foes I find.
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When gentle Grissel heard these woeful Tidings,
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the Teers stood in her Eyes,
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She nothing said, no words of Discontentment,
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did from her Lips arise;
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Her Velvet Gown most patiently she stript off,
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her Girdle of Silk of the same;
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Her russet Gown was brought again with many a Scoff;
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to bear them all, herself did frame;
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When she was drest in this Array,
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and ready was to part away,
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God send long Life unto my Lord, quoth she,
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let no Offence be found in this,
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To give my Lord a parting Kiss;
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with watry Eyes, Farewel my Dear, quoth he,
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From Stately Palace unto her Father's Cottage,
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poor Grissel now is gone;
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Full Fifteen winters she liv'd there contented,
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no wrong she thought upon;
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And at that time thro' all the Land the speeches went
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the Marquess should married be,
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Unto a noble Lady of high Descent,
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and the same all Parties did agree,
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The Marquess sent for Grissel fair,
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The Bride's Bed-chamber to prepare,
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that nothing should therein be found awry,
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The Bride was with her Brother come,
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Which was great Joy to all and some;
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and Grissel took all this most patiently;
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And in the Morning when that they should be wedded,
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her Patience now was try'd,
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Grissel was charg'd in princely manner,
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for to attend the Bride;
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Most willingly she gave Consent unto the same;
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the Bride in her Bravery was drest,
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And presently the noble Marquess thither came,
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with all the Ladies at his Request,
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Oh Grissel! I would ask of thee,
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If to this Match thou wouldst agree?
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methinks thy Looks are waxed wonderous coy.
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With that they all began to smile,
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And Grissel she replies the while,
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God send Lord Marquess many Years of Joy.
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The Marquess was mov'd to see his best beloved,
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thus patient in Distress,
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He stept unto her, ard by the Hand he took her,
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these words he did express,
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Thou art the Bride, and all the Brides I mean to have,
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these two thy own Children be;
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The youthful Lady on her Knees did Blessing crave
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the Brother as willing as she;
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And you that envy her Estate,
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Whom I have made my loving Mate,
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now blush for shame and honour vertuous Life;
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The Chronicles of lasting Fame,
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Shall evermore extoll the Name,
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of Patient Grissel, my most constant Wife.
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