The SPANISH LADY's Love
To an ENGLISH CAPTAIN.
|
WILL you hear of a Spanish lady,
|
How she lov'd an Englishman,
|
Garments gay and rich as may be,
|
Deck'd with jewels she had on:
|
Of a comely countenance
|
And grace was she;
|
By birth and parentage
|
Of high degree.
|
As his pris'ner there he kept her,
|
In his hands her life did lie:
|
Cupid's bands did tie her faster,
|
By the linking of an eye.
|
In his courteous company
|
Was all her joy,
|
To favour him in anything,
|
She was not coy,
|
But at length there came commandment,
|
For to set all lady's free
|
With their jewels still adorned,
|
None to do them injury.
|
Then said this lady mild,
|
Full woe is me:
|
Oh! let me still enjoy
|
My kind captivity.
|
Gallant captain, take some pity,
|
On a woman in distress,
|
Leave me not within this city,
|
For to die in heaviness.
|
They have set, this present day,
|
My body free;
|
But my heart in prison still
|
Remains with thee.
|
Why should'st thou, fair lady, love me,
|
Whom thou know'st thy country's foe:
|
Thy fair words make me suspect thee,
|
Serpents lie where flowers grow
|
All the harm I think on thee,
|
Most couragious knight,
|
I wish the same on me:
|
May fully light.
|
Blessed be the time and season,
|
When you came on Spanish ground,
|
If that you may our soes be termed,
|
Gentel foes we have you found.
|
With our city, you have won
|
Our hearts each one,
|
Then to your country bear away
|
What is your own.
|
Rest you still you gallant lady
|
Rest you still, and weep no more;
|
Of fair flowers you have plenty,
|
Spain doth yield you wondrous store.
|
Spaniards fraught with jealousy,
|
We often find,
|
But Englishmen, throughout the world,
|
Are counted kind.
|
Leave me not under a Spaniard,
|
Thou alone enjoy'st my heart;
|
I am loving, young, and tender,
|
Love is likewise my desert
|
Still to court thee night and day
|
My mind is prest,
|
The wife of every Englishman
|
is surely blest.
|
It would be a shame, fair lady,
|
For to bear a woman hence,
|
English soldiers never carry
|
Any such without offence.
|
I will quickly change myself,
|
If it be so,
|
And like a page will follow thee,
|
Where e'er you go.
|
I have neither gold nor silver,
|
For to mainttin you in this case,
|
And to travel is great charges,
|
Which you know, in every place,
|
My chains and jewels every one,
|
Shall be thy own,
|
And eke ten thousand pounds in gold,
|
Which lies unknown,
|
On the seas are many dangers,
|
Many storms do there arise,
|
Which will be to ladies fatal
|
And force the tears from their eyes,
|
Well, in truth I shall endure,
|
Th' utmost extremity;
|
For I could find in my heart, to lose
|
My Life for thee.
|
Courteous lady, leave this folly,
|
Here comes all that breeds this strif
|
I in England have already
|
A sweet woman to my wife
|
I would not falsify my vow,
|
For gold nor gain.
|
Nor yet for all the fairest dames
|
That are in Spain.
|
Oh! how happy is the woman,
|
Who enjoys so true a friend;
|
Many days I pray God send her;
|
So of my suit I make an end;
|
On my knees I pardon crave
|
For my offence,
|
Which love and true affection
|
Did first commence,
|
Commend me to that gallant lady,
|
Bear to her this chain of gold,
|
With these bracelets, for a token,
|
Grieving that I was so bold:
|
All my jewels in like sort,
|
Take thou with thee,
|
For they are fitting for thy wife,
|
But not for me.
|
I will spend my days in prayer,
|
Love and all its laws defy;
|
In some nunnery I will shroud me,
|
Far from any company.
|
But e'er my prayers have an end,
|
Be sure of this,
|
To pray for thee and thy lady
|
I will not miss.
|
Thus farewell, thou gallant captain,
|
Farewell to my heart's content;
|
Count not Spanish ladies wanton,
|
Tho' to thee my heart was bent.
|
All joy and true prosperity
|
Remain with thee.
|
The like thereof fall to thy share,
|
Most fair lady.
|
|
|
|
|
|