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EBBA 34047

National Library of Scotland - Crawford
Ballad XSLT Template
The LAMENTATION of Mr. PAGE's WIFE of PLIMOUTH;
who being forc'd to Wed him, consented to his Murder, for the Love of G. Strangwidge,
for which they suffered at Barnstable, in Devonshire. The Tune, Fortune my Foe, etc.

UNhappy she whom fortune hath forlorn,
Despis'd of grace, that proffer'd grace did scorn,
My lawless love hath luckless wrought my woe,
My discontent, content did overthrow.

My loathed life too late I do lament,
My woful deeds in heart I do repent:
A wife I was that wilful went away,
And for that fault am here prepar'd to dye.

In blooming years my father's greedy mind,
Against my will a match for me did find,
Great wealth there was, yea, gold and silver store,
But yet my heart had chosen one before.

Mine eyes dislik'd my father's liking quite,
My heart did loath my parents fond delight:
My childish mind and fancy told to me,
That with his age my youth could not agree.

On knees I pray'd they would not me constrain,
With tears I cryd, their purpose to refrain;
With sighs and sobs I did them often move,
I might not wed whereas I could not love.

But all in vain my speeches still I spent,
My mother's will my wishes did prevent.
Though wealthy Page possest the outward part,
George Strangwidge still was lodged in my heart.

I wedded was and wraped all in woe,
Great discontent within my heart did grow;
I loath'd to live, yet livd in deadly strife,
Because perforce I was made Pages Wife.

My chosen eyes could not his sight abide,
My tender youth did loath his aged side;
Scant could I tast the meat whereon he fed,
My legs did loath to lodge within his bed.

Cause knew I none, I should despise him so,
That such disdain within my heart did grow,
Save only this, that fancy did me move,
And told me still, George Strangwidge was my love.

Lo, here began my downfal and decay,
In mind I mus'd to make him straight away:
I that became his discontented Wife,
Contented was he should be rid of life.

Methinks the heavens cry vengance for my fact,
Methinks the world condemns my monstrous act,
Methinks within my conscience tells me true,
That for that deed hell-fire is my due.

My pensive soul doth sorrow for my sin,
For which offence my soul doth bleed within;
But, mercy, Lord, for mercy still I cry,
Save thou my soul, and let my body dye.

Well could I wish that Page enjoy'd his life,
So that he had some other to his wife:
But never could I wish of low or high,
A longer life than see sweet Strangwidge dye.

O woe is me that had no greater grace,
To stay till he had run out nature's race;
My deeds I rure, but more I do repent,
That to the same my Strangwidge gave consent.

You parents fond that greedy minded be,
And seek to graft upon the golden tree;
Consider well, and rightful judges be,
And give your doom, 'twixt parents love and me.

I was their child, and bound for to obey.
Yet not to love where I no love could lay,
I married was in muck and endless strife,
But faith before had made me Strangwidgess wife.

O wretched world, who canker'd rust doth blind,
And cursed Men who bear a greedy mind:
And hapless I, whom parents did force so,
To end my days in sorrow, shame, and woe.

You Devonshire dames, and courteous Cornwal knights
That here are come to visit woful wights,
Regard my grief, and mark my woful end,
But to your children be a better friend.

And thou, my dear, which for my fault must dye,
Be not afraid the sting of death to try;
Like as we liv'd and lovd together true,
So both at once let's bid the world adieu.

Ulalia thy friend doth take her last farewel,
Whose soul with thee in heaven shall ever dwell;
Sweet Saviour Christ do thou my soul receive,
The world I do with all my heart forgive.

And parents, now whose greedy mind doth show,
Your hearts desire, and inward heavy woe,
Mourn you no more, for now my heart doth tell,
E'ry day be done, my soul shall be full well.

And Plimouth proud I bid thee now farewel,
Take heed you wives, let not your hands rebel;
And farewel life wherein such sorrows shows,
And welcome death that doth my corpse inclose.

And now, sweet Lord, forgive me my misdeeds,
Repentance crys for foul that inward bleeds,
My soul and body I commend to thee,
That with thy blood from death redeemed me.

Lord bless our Queen with long and happy life,
And send true peace betwixt each man and wife.
And give all parents wisdom to foresee,
The match is marr'd where minds do not agree.

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