The Lamentation of Mr. Pages Wife of Plimouth.
Who being forced to wed against her will, did consent to his Murther, for the love of George
Strangwidge, for which fact they suffered death at Barnstable in Devonshire.
The Tune is, Fortune my Foe.
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UNhappy she, whom Fortune hath forlorn,
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Despisd of grace, that proffered grace did scorn,
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My lawless love, hath luckless wrought my woe,
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My discontent, content did overthrow.
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My loathed life too late I do lament,
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My woful deeds in heart I do repent:
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A Wife I was that wilful went away,
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And for that fault am here prepard to dye.
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In bloomy years my Fathers greedy mind,
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Against my will a match for me did find:
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Great wealth there was, yea, gold and silver store,
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But yet my heart had chosen one before.
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Mine eyes dislikt my Fathers liking quite,
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My heart did loath my Parents fond delight:
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My greedy mind, and fancy told to me,
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That with his age my Youth could not agree.
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On knees I cravd they would not me constrain,
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With tears I cryd their purpose to restrain,
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With sighs and sobs I did them often move,
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I might not wed whereas I could not love.
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But all in vain my speeches still I spent,
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My Mothers will my wishes did prevent,
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Though wealthy Page possest my outward part,
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George Strangwidge still was lodged in my heart.
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I wedded was and wrapped all in woe,
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Great discontent within my heart did grow:
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I loathd to live, yet livd in deadly strife,
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Because perforce I was made Pages Wife.
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My chosen eyes could not his sight abide,
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My tender Youth did loath his aged side,
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Scant could I tast the meat whereon I fed,
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My legs did loath to lodge within his bed.
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Cause knew I none, I should despise him so,
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That such disdain within my heart did grow,
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Save only this, that fancy did me move,
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And told me still George Strangwide was my love.
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But here began my downfal and decay,
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In mind I musd to make him strait away,
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I that became his discontented wife,
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Contented was he should be rid of life.
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Methinks the heavens crys vengeance for my fact,
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Methinks the world condemns my Monstrous act:
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Methinks within, my Conscience tells me true,
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That for that deed, hell fire is my due.
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My pensive soul doth sorrow for my sin,
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For which offence my soul doth bleed within:
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But mercy Lord, for mercy still I cry,
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Save thou my soul, and let my body dye.
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Well could I wish that Page enjoyd his life,
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So that he had some other to his wife:
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But never could I wish of low or high,
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A longer life then see sweet Strangwidge die.
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O woe is me that had no greater grace,
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To stay till he had run out Natures race;
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My deed I rue, but more I do repent,
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That to the same my Stranwidge gave consent.
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You Parents fond, that greedy minded be,
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And seek to graft upon the golden tree,
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Consider well, and rightful judges be,
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And give your doom, twixt Parents, love, and me,
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I was their child, and bound for to obey,
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Yet not to love where I no love could lay:
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I married was in muck and endlesse strife,
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But faith before had made me Strangwidge wife.
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O wretched world whom cankered rust doth blind,
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And cursed men who bear a greedy mind:
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And haplesse I, whom Parents did force so,
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To end my days in sorrow, shame, and woe.
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You Devonshire Dames, & courteous Cornwal Knights
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That are here come to visit woful wights,
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Regard my grief, and mark my woful end,
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But to your Children be a better friend.
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And thou my dear, which for my fault must die,
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Be not afraid the sting of death to cry:
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Like as we livd and lovd together true,
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So both at once lets bid the world adieu.
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Ulalia thy friend doth take her last farewel,
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Whose soul with thine in heaven doth ever dwell:
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Sweet Saviour Christ do thou my soul receive,
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The world I do with all my heart forgive.
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And Parents now whose greedy minds do show,
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Your hearts desire and inward heavy woe,
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Mourn you no more, for now my heart doth tell,
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Ere day be done my soul shall be full well.
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And Plimouth proud I bid thee now farewel,
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Take heed you Wives, let not your hands rebel,
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And farewel life wherein such sorrow shows,
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And welcome death that doth my corps inclose.
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And now sweet Lord forgive me my misdeeds,
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Repentance crys for soul that inward bleeds,
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My soul and body I commend to thee,
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That with thy blood from death redeemed me.
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Lord blesse our King with long and happy life,
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And send true peace betwixt each man and wife,
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And give all Parents Wisdom to fore-see,
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The match is mard where minds do not agree.
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The Lamentation of George
Strangwidge, who for the consenting to the death of
Mr. Page of Plimouth, suffered death at
Barnstable.
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THe man that sighs and sorrows for his sin,
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The corps which care and woe hath wrapped in,
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In doleful sort records her swanlike Song,
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That waits for death and loaths to live so long.
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O Glansfield cause of my committed crime,
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So wed in wealth, as birds in bush of lime:
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What cause hadst thou to bear such wicked spight,
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Against my love and eke my hearts delight?
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I would to God thy wisdom had been more,
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Or that I had not entred in thy door,
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Or that thou hadst a kinder father been
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Unto thy Child, whose Years are but green.
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The match unmeet which thou for me didst make,
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When aged Page thy daughter home did take,
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Well mayst thou rue with tears that cannot dry,
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Which is the cause that four of us must die.
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Ulalia more brighter then the Summers Sun,
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Whose beauty hath forever my love won,
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My soul more sobs to think of thy disgrace,
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Then to behold my own untimely race.
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The deed late done in heart I do repent,
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But that I lovd I cannot yet relent:
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Thy seemly sight was ever sweet to me,
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Would God my death could thy excuser be.
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It was for me alas, thou didst the same,
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On me by right they ought to lay the blame:
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My worthlesse love hath brought thy life in scorn,
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And woe is me that ever I was born.
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Farewel my love, whose Royal heart was seen,
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I would thou hadst not half so constant been:
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Farewel my love, the pride of Plimouth town,
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Farewel the Flower, whose beauty is cut down.
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For twenty Years great was the cost I know,
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Thy unkind father did on thee bestow:
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Yet afterwards so sower did fortune lower,
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He lost his joy and child within an hour.
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My wrong and woe to God I do commit,
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Who was the cause of matching them unfit,
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And yet my guilt I cannot so excuse
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We gave consent his life for to abuse.
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Wretch that I am, that my consent did give,
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Had I denyd Ulalia still should live:
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Blind fancy said, do not this suit deny,
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Live thou in blisse, or else in sorrow die.
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O Lord forgive this cruel deed of mine,
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Upon my soul let beams of mercy shine:
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In justice Lord do thou no vengeance take,
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Forgive us both, For Jesus Christ his sake.
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The Complaint of Mis. Page,
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for causing her Husband to be murthered, for the
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love of Strangwidge, who were executed to-
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gether.
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IF ever woe did touch a womans heart,
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Or grief did gall for sin the outward part,
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My conscience then, and heavy heart within,
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Can witnesse well the sorrow for my sin.
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When Years were young my father forcd me wed,
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Against my will where fancy was not fed:
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I was content their pleasure to obey,
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Although my heart was linkt another way.
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Great were the gifts they proffered in my sight,
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With wealth they thought to win me to delight,
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But gold and gifts could not my mind remove,
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For I was linkd whereas I could not love.
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Methought his sight was loathsom to my eye,
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My heart did grudge against him inwardly:
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This discontent did cause my deadly strife,
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And with this wealth did cause a grievous life.
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My constant love was on Young Strangwidge set,
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And woe to him that did our welfare let:
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His love so deep a root in me did make,
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I would have gone a begging for his sake.
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Wronged he was through fond desire of gain,
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Wronged he was, even through my Parents plain,
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If faith and troth a perfect pledge might be,
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I had been wife unto no man but he.
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Eternal God forgive my fathers deed,
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And Grant all Maidens may take better heed,
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If I had been but constant to my friend,
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I had not matcht to make so bad an end.
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But wanting Grace I sought mine own decay,
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And was the cause to make my friend away:
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And he on whom my earthly joys did lye,
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Through my amisse a shameful death must die.
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Farewel sweet George, always my loving friend,
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Needs must I laud and love thee to the end,
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And albeit that Page possest thy due,
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In sight of God thou wast my Husband true.
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My watry eyes unto the Heavens I bend,
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Craving of Christ his mercy to extend:
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My bloody deed do me O Lord forgive,
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And let my soul within thy Kingdom live.
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Farewel false World, and friends that fickle be,
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All wives farewel, example take by me,
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Let not the Devil to murder you intice,
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Seek to escape such foul and sinful vice.
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And now O Christ to thee I yeild my br[eath,]
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Strengthen my faith in bitter pangs of [death]
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Forgive my faults and folly I thee pra[y,]
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And with thy blood wash thou my sin[s away.]
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