A Ballad I[ntituled], The Old Mans Complaint against his
Wretched Son, who to Advance his Marriage, did undo himself.
To the same Tune.
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ALL you that fathers be,
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look on my misery,
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Let not affection fond
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work your extremity,
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For to advance my son
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in marriage wealthily,
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I have myself undone
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without all remedy.
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I that was wont to live
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uncontroul'd any way,
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With many checks & taunts
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am grieved every day:
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Alack and woe is me
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I that might late command,
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Cannot have a bit of bread
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but at my Childrens hand.
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While I was wont to sit
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chief at the tables end,
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Now like a Servant slave
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must I on them attend,
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I must not come in place
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where their friends merry be,
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Lest I should my son disgrace
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with my unreverency,
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my Coughing in the night
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offends my daughter in law,
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my Deafness and ill sight
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doth much disliking draw.
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Fye on this doting fool,
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this crooked Churl (quoth she)
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The Chimney-corner still
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must with him troubled be,
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I must rise from my Chair
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to give my children place.
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I must speak servants fair,
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this is my woful case.
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Unto their friends they tell
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(I must not say they lie)
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That they do keep me here
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even of meer charity.
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When I am sick in bed
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they will not come me nigh,
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Each day they wish me dead
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yet say i'll never die:
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O Lord an't be thy will
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look on my woful case,
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No honest man before
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ever took such disgrace.
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This was the Old-mans plaint
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every night & day,
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With woe he waxed faint,
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but mark what I shall say.
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This rich and dainty pair,
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the young-man and his wife,
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Tho' clog'd with golden coin,
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yet led a grievous life.
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Seven Years they married were,
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and yet in all that space,
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God sent them ne'er an heir
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their Riches to embrace:
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Thus did their sorrow breed,
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joy was from them exil'd,
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Quoth she, a hundred pound
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would I give for a Child,
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to have a joyful Child
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of my own body.
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Full oft I am revil'd
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of this my barren womb,
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much Physick did she take
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to make a fruitful Soil,
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And with access thereof
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her body she did spoil.
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Full of grief, full of pain,
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full of each grew she then,
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that she cries out amain,
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seek for some cunning men,
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that I my health may have,
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I will no money spare.
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But that which she did crave
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never fell to her share.
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Alack alack, she said,
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what torments I live in,
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How well are they apaid
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that truly ease can win:
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So that I had my health,
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and from this pain was free,
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I would give all my wealth
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that blessed day to see.
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O that my health I had,
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tho' I were ne'er so poor,
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I car'd not tho' I went
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begging from door to door,
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fie on this muck, quoth she,
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it cannot pleasure me,
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in this my woful case
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and great extremity.
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thus lived she long in pain,
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all comfort from her fled,
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She strangled at the last
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herself within the bed.
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Her husband full of grief
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consumed wofully,
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His body pin'd away,
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suddenly he did die.
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E're thirteen years was past
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dy'd he without a will,
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And by this means at last
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the Old man, living still,
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Enjoy'd his Land at last,
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after much misery,
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Many Years after that
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liv'd he most happily,
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far richer than before,
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by this means was he known
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He helpt the sick and sore,
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the poor man overthrown.
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But this was all his Song,
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let all men understand,
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those Parents are accurst,
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lives on their childrens hand.
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