A Lamentable BALLAD of the Tragical End
OF A
Gallant LORD and Vertuous LADY:
Together with the untimely Death of their Two CHILDREN; wickedly performed by a Heathenish
and Blood-thirsty Black a-Moor, their Servant; the like of which Cruelty and Murder was never before
heard of.
To the Tune of, The Lady's Fall, etc.
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IN Rome a Nobleman did wed
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A Virgin of great Fame,
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A fairer Creature never did
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Dame Nature ever frame;
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By whom he had two Children fair,
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Whose Beauty did excel;
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They were their Parents only Joy,
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They lov'd them both so well.
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The Lord he lov'd to hunt the Buck,
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The Tyger and the Boar;
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And still for Swiftness always took
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With him a Black-a-Moor:
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Which Black-a-Moor within the Wood
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His Lord he did offend;
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For which he did him then correct,
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In hopes he would amend.
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The Day it grew unto an end,
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Then homewards he did haste,
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Where with his Lady he did rest,
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Until the Night was past:
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Then in the Morning he did rise,
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And did his Servants call,
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A hunting he provides to go
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Straight they were ready all.
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To cause the Toyl the Lady did
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Intreat him not to go:
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Alas, good Lady, then quoth he,
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Why art thou grieved so?
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Content thyself, I will return
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With Speed to thee again.
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Good Father, quoth the little Babes,
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With us here still remain.
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Farewel, dear Children, I will go
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A fine thing for to buy.
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But they therewith nothing content,
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Aloud began to cry.
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The Mother takes them by the Hand,
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Saying, Come, go with me
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Unto the highest Tower, where
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Your Father you shall see.
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The Black-a-Moor perceiving now
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(Who then did stay behind)
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His Lord to be a hunting gone,
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Began to call to mind:
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My Master he did me correct,
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My Fault not being great;
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Now of his Wife I'll be reveng'd,
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She shall not me intreat.
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The Place was moted round about,
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The Bridge he up did draw,
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The Gates he bolted very fast,
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Of none he stood in awe:
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He up into the Tower went,
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The Lady being there,
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Who when she saw his Countenance grim,
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She straight began to fear.
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But now my trembling heart it quakes,
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To think what I must write,
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My Senses all begin to fail,
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My Soul it doth affright;
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Yet must I make an End of this,
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Which here I have begun,
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Which will make sad the hardest heart
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Before that I have done.
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This Wretch unto the Lady went,
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And her with speed did will,
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His Lust forthwith to satisfy,
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His Mind for to fulfil:
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The Lady she amazed was,
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To hear the Villain speak;
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Alas, quoth she, what shall I do?
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With Grief my Heart will break.
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With that he took her in his Arms,
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She straight for Help did cry:
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Content yourself, Lady, he said,
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Your Husband is not nigh;
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The Bridge is drawn, the Gates are shut,
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Therefore come lye with me,
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Or else I do protest and vow,
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Thy Butcher I will be.
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The chrystal Tears ran down her Face,
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Her Children cry'd amain,
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And sought to help their Mother dear,
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But all it was in vain;
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For that egregious filthy Rogue,
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Her Hands behind her bound,
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And then per force, with all his might,
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He threw her on the Ground.
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With that she shriek'd, her Children cry'd,
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And such a Noise did make,
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That Townfolks hearing her Laments,
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Did seek their parts to take;
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But all in vain, no way was found
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To help the Lady's need,
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Who cried to them most piteously,
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O help, O help with speed.
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Some run into the Forest wide,
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Her Lord home for to call;
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And they that stood still did lament
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This gallant Lady's Fall.
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With speed her Lord came posting home
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He could not enter in,
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His Lady's Cries did pierce his Heart,
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To call he did begin.
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O hold thy Hand, thou savage Moor,
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To hurt her do forbear,
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Or else be sure, if I do live,
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Wild Horses shall thee tear.
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With that the Rogue ran to the Wall,
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He having had his Will,
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And brought one Child under his Arm,
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His dearest Blood to spill.
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The Child seeing his Father there,
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To him for help did call:
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O Father, help my Mother dear,
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We shall be killed all.
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Then fell the Lord upon his Knee,
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And did the Moor intreat,
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To save the Life of his poor Child,
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Whose Fear was then so great.
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But this vile Wretch the little Child
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By both the Heels did take,
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And dash'd his Brains against the Wall,
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Whilst Parents Hearts did ake:
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That being done, straightway he ran
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The other Child to fetch,
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And pluck'd it from the Mother's Breast,
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Most like a cruel Wretch.
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Within one Hand a Knife he brought,
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The Child within the other;
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And holding it over the Wall,
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Saying, Thus shall die thy Mother:
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With that he cut the Throat of it,
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Then to the Father he did call,
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To look how he the Head did cut,
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And down the Head did fall.
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This done, he threw it down the Wall
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Into the Mote so deep;
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Which made the Father wring his Hands,
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And grievously to weep.
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Then to the Lady went t[h]is Rogue,
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Who was near dead with fear,
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Yet this vile Wretch most cruelly
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Did drag her by the Hair,
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And drew her to the very Wall,
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Which when the Lord did see,
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Then presently he cry'd out,
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And fell upon his Knee.
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Quoth he, if thou wilt save her Life,
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Whom I do love so dear,
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I will forgive thee all is pass,
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Though they concern me near:
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O save her Life, I thee beseech,
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O save her, I thee pray,
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And I will grant thee what thou wilt
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Demand of me this Day.
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Well, quoth the Moor, I do regard
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The Moan that thou dost make;
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If thou wilt grant me what I ask,
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I'll save her for thy sake.
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O save her Life, and then demand
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Of me what Thing thou wilt:
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Cut off thy Nose, and not one Drop
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Of her Blood shall be spilt.
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With that the Lord presently took
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A Knife within his Hand,
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And then his Nose he quite cut off,
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In place where he did stand.
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Now I have bought my Lady's Life,
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He to the Moor did call:
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Then take her quoth this wicked Rogue,
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And down he let her fall.
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Which when her Gallant Lord did see,
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His Senses all did fail;
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Yet many sought to save his Life,
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But nothing could prevail.
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When as the Moor did see him dead,
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Then did he laugh amain
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At them who for their Gallant Lord
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And Lady did complain:
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Quoth he, I know you'll torture me,
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If that you can me get,
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But all your Threats, I do not fear,
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Nor yet regard one whit.
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Wild Horses shall my body tear,
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I know it to be true,
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But I'll prevent you of that Pain,
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And down himself he threw:
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Too good a Death for such a Wretch,
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A Villain void of Fear;
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And thus doth end as sad a Tale
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As ever Man did hear.
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