[The Ladies Daughter]
A rare example of a Vertuous Maiden in Paris, who was by her own
Mother procured to be put in Prison thinking thereby to compell her
to Popery, but she continued to the end, and finished her life in
the fire. To the tune of, O man in desperation.
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IT was a Ladies Daughter
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of Paris properly
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Her Mother her commanded
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to Masse that she should hye,
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No, pardon me deare mother,
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her Daughter deare did say,
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Unto that filthy Idoll
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I never will obay.
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With weeping and with wailing
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her mother then did goe,
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To assemble all her kinsfolke
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that they the truth might know,
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Who being then assembled,
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they did the Maiden call,
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And put her into prison
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to feare her there withall.
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But where they thought to feare her
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she did most strong indure,
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Although her yeares were tender,
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her faith was firme and sure:
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She weigh'd not their allurements,
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she forc't not fires flame.
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She hop[']d through Christ our Savior
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to have immortall fame.
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Before the Judge they brought her,
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thinking that she would turne,
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And there she was condemned
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in fire for to burne:
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Instead of golden Bracelets,
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with cords they bound her fast,
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My God grant me with patience.
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quoth she, to dye at last,
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And on the morrow after,
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which was her dying day,
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They stript this silly Damsell.
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out of her faire aray;
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Her chaine of Gold so costly,
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away from her they take,
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And she againe most joyfully
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did all the world forsake,
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[Unto the place of torment
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they brought her speedily
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With heart & minde most constant
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She willing was to dye
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But seeing many Ladies
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assembled in that place
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These words she then pronounced
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lamenting of their case
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You Ladies of this city
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Mark well my words, quoth she
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Although I shall be burned
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Yet do not pity me,]
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Yourselves I rather pittie,
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I weepe for your decay,
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Amend your lives faire Ladies,
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and doe no time delay,
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Then came her Mother weeping
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her Daughter to behold.
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And in her hand she brought her
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a booke covered with Gold:
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Throw hence (quoth she that Idoll
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convey it from my sight,
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And bring me here me Bible,
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wherein I most delight,
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But my distressed Mother,
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why weep you? be content,
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You have to death delivered me,
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most like an innocent:
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Tormenter doe thine office
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on me when thou thinkst best,
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But God my Heavenly Father,
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shall bring my soule to rest,
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But oh my aged father,
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where ever thou dost lye,
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thou know'st not thy poore Daughter
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is ready for to dye.
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But yet among the Angels
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in Heaven I hope to dwell,
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Therefore my loving father
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I bid thee now farewell.
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Farewell likewise my mother
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adieu my friends and all
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God grant that you and other
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may here when Christ doth call:
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Forsake your superstition,
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the cause of mortall strife,
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Imbrace Gods true Religion,
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for which I lose my life.
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When all these words were uttered
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then came the man of death,
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Which kindled soone the fire
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that stopt the Virgins breath:
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[To Christ her only saviour
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She did her soul commend
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Farewell, quoth she, good people
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And thus she made an end.
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