The Lamentation of Mr. Pages Wife of Plimouth:
Who being enforced to wed against their will; did consent to his Murder for the love of George
Strangwidge, for which fact they suffered death at Barstable in Devonshire.
The tune is, Fortune my Foe.
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UNhappy she whom fortune hath forlorne,
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Despis'd 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 deed in heart I do repent,
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A wife I was that wilful went awry,
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And for that fault am here prepar'd to die.
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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 dislik't 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 crav'd they would not me constrain,
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With tears I cry'd 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 loath'd to live, yet liv'd 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 scorn his aged side,
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Scant could I taste 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, that should despise him so,
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That such disdain within my heart did grow,
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Save onely this that fancy did me move,
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And told me still George Strangwidge was my love.
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But here began my downfall and decay,
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In mind I mus'd to make him straight 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 cries 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 Hellfire 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 die.
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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 Strangwidge 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 endless 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 hapless I whom parents did force so,
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To end my dayes in sorrow shame and woe.
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You Devonshire Dames, and courteous Cornwal Kts
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That here are come to visit woeful Wights,
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Regard my grief, and mark my woeful 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 force of death to try;
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Like as we liv'd and lov'd 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 farewell,
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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 al my heart forgive.
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And Parents now whose greedy mind do show,
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Your hearts desire, and inward heavy woe:
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Mourn you no more, for hope my heart doth tell,
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Ere day be done, that I 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 showes,
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And welcome death that doth my Corps enclose.
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And now sweet Lord forgive me my misdeeds,
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Repentance cries 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 bless 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 wisdome to foresee,
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The match is mar'd 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, fuffered
death at Barstable.
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THe man that sighs and sorrows for his sin,
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The corps which care and wo hath wrapped in
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In doleful sort records her Swan-like 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 wisdome had been more,
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Or that I had not entred in thy door;
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Or that thou had a kinder father been
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Unto thy Child, whose years are yet but green.
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The match unmeet which thou didst make,
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When aged Page thy daughter whom did take,
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Well may'st 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 bright then Summers Sun,
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Whose beauty had 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 lov'd I cannot it relent:
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Thy seemly sight was ever sweet to me,
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Would God my death would 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 worthless love hath brought my life in scorn,
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Now woe is me that ever I was born.
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Farewel my Love whose Royal heart was seen,
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Wouldest thou hadst not half so constant been:
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Farewel my Love the pride of Plimouth town,
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Farwel 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 deny'd Ulalia still should life:
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Blind fancy said do not this suit deny,
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Live thou in bliss, 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 Mrs. Page
for causing her Husband to be murdered
for the love of Strangwidge, who were
executed together.
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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 witness well the sorrow for my sin,
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When years were young my father forc'd me wed
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Against my will where fancy were not fed,
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I was content his pleasure to obey,
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Although my heart was link'd 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 with delight.
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But gold nor gifts could not my mind remove,
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For I was link'd whereas I could not love,
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Methought his sight was loathsome 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 take,
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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 my 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 joyes did lye,
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Through my amisse a shameful death must die.
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Farwel sweet George alwaies 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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Farwel false world and Friend that Fickle be,
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All wives farwel, 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 filthy vice.
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And now O Christ to thee I yield my breath,
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Strengthen my Faith in bitter pangs of death:
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Forgive my faults and folly I thee pray,
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And with thy blood wash thou my sins away.
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