The Norfolk Gentleman his last Will and Testament.
Who Committed the Keeping of his Children to his own Brother, who dealt most wickedly with them,
and how God plagued him for it.
To the Tune of, Rogero.
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NOw ponder well you Parents dear,
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these words which I shall write,
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A doleful Story you shall hear,
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in time brought forth to light:
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A Gentleman of good account,
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in Norfolk dwelt of late,
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Whose wealth and riches did surmount
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most men of his Estate.
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Sore Sick he was and like to dye,
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no help that he could have,
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His wife by him as sick did lye,
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and both possest one Grave:
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No Love between these two was lost,
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each was to other kind,
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In love they liv'd in love they dyed,
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and left two Babes behind.
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The one a fine and pretty Boy,
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not passing three years old,
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The other a Girl more young than he,
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and made of Beauties mould:
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The father left his little Son,
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as plainly doth appear,
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When he to perfect age should come,
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three hundred pounds a year.
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And to his little Daughter Jane,
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two hundred pound in Gold,
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To be paid down on Marriage-day,
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which might not be controul'd;
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But if the Children chance to dye,
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e're they to age should come,
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Their Uncle should possess their wealth,
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for so the will did run.
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Now Brother (said the dying man)
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look to my Children dear,
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Be good unto my Boy and Girl,
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no Friends else I have here:
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To God and you I do commend
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my Children night and day,
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A little while besure we have
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within this world to stay.
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You must be father and mother both,
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and Uncle all in one,
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God knows what will become of them,
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when I am dead and gone:
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With that bespoke their Mother dear,
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O Brother kind, quoth she,
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You are the man must bring my Babes
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to wealth or misery.
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If you do keep them carefully,
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then God will you reward,
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If otherwise you seem to deal,
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God will your deeds regard:
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With Lips as cold as any stone,
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he kist the Children small,
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God bless you both my Children dear,
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with that the tears did fall.
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These speeches then their Brother spake
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to this sick couple there,
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The keeping of your Children dear,
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sweet Sister do not fear:
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God never prosper me nor mine,
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not ought else that I have,
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If I do wrong your Children dear,
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when you are laid in Grave.
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Their Parents being dead and gone,
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the Children home he takes,
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And brings them home unto his House,
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and much of them he makes.
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He had not kept these pretty Babes,
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a twelve-month and a day,
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But for their wealth he did devise
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to make them both away.
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He bargain'd with two Ruffians rude,
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which were of furious mood,
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That they should take the Children young,
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and slay them in a Wood;
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And told his Wife, and all he had,
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he did the Children send
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To be brought up in fair London,
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with one that was his Friend.
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AWay then with these pretty babes,
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rejoycing at that tide,
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Rejoycing with a merry mind,
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they should on Cock-horse ride:
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They prate and prattle pleasantly:
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as they rode on the way,
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To those that should their Butchers be,
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and work their Lives decay.
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So that the pretty speech they had,
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made Murtherers hearts relent,
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And they that took the Deed to do,
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full sore they did repent:
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Yet one of them more hard of heart,
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did vow to do his charge,
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Because the wretch that hired him,
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had paid him very large.
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The other would not agree thereto,
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so here they fell at strife,
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with one another they did fight,
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about the Childrens life:
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and he that was of mildest mood,
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did slay the other there,
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within an unfrequented wood,
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where Babes did quake for fear.
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He took the Children by the hand,
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when tears stood in their Eye,
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and bad them come and go with him,
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and look they did not cry:
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and two long Miles he led them thus,
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while they for Bread complain,
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Stay here, quoth he, i'le bring ye bread,
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when I do come again.
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These pretty Babes with hand in hand,
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went wandring up and down,
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But never more they saw the man,
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approaching from the Town:
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Their pretty Lips with black-berries,
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were all besmear'd and dy'd,
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and when they saw the darksom night,
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they sat them down and cry'd.
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Thus wandred these two pretty Babes,
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till Death did end their grief;
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In one anothers arms they dy'd,
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as Babes wanting relief:
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No burial these pretty Babes
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of any man receives,
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Till Robin-Red-Breast painfully,
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did cover them with leaves.
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And now the heavy wrath of God,
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upon their Uncle fell,
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Yea fearful Fiends did haunt his house,
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his conscience felt an Hell:
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His barns were fired, his goods consum'd,
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his Lands were barren made,
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His cattle dy'd within the field,
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and nothing with him staid.
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And in the voyage to Portugal,
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two of his Sons did dye,
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And to conclude, himself was brought
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unto much misery:
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He pawn'd and morgag'd all his Land,
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ere seven years came about,
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And now at length this wicked act
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did by this means come out.
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The fellow that did take in hand,
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these Children for to kill,
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Was for a Robbery judg'd to dye,
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as was God's blessed will:
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Who did confess the very truth,
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the which is here exprest,
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Their Uncle dy'd while he for debt
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did long in Prison rest.
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All you that be Executors made,
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and overseers eke,
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Of Children that be fatherless,
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and infants mild and meek:
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Take you example by this thing,
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and yield to each his right,
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Least God with such like misery,
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your wicked minds requite.
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