The Woful Lamentation of Jane Shore,
A Goldsmith's Wife, in London, sometime King EDWARD the Fourth's CONCUBINE, who
for her Wanton Life came to a Miserable End: Set forth for the EXMPLE of all Wicked LIVERS. To
the Tune of, Live with me, etc.
Licens'd and Enter'd according to Order
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IF Rosamond that was so fair,
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Had cause her sorrows to declare;
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Then let Jane Shore with sorrow sing,
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That was beloved of a King:
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Then wanton Wives in time amend,
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For Love and Beauty will have end.
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In maiden years my beauty bright,
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Was loved dear of Lord and Knight;
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But yet the love that they requir'd,
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It was not as my Friends desir'd.
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My Parents they for thirst of gain,
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A Husband for me did obtain;
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And I their pleasure to fulfil,
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Was forc'd to wed against my will:
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To Matthew Shore I was a Wife,
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Till lust brought ruine to my life;
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And then my life so lewdly spent,
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Which makes my soul for to lament.
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In Lumbard-street I once did dwell,
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As London yet can witness well,
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Where many Gallants did behold
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My beauty in a shop of gold.
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I spread my plumes as Wantons do,
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Some sweet and secret Friend to wooe,
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Because my Love I did not find,
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Agreeing to my wanton mind
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At last my name in Court did ring
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Into the ears of Englands King,
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Who came and lik'd, and love requir'd;
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But I made coy what he desir'd:
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Yet Mistress Blague, a Neighbour near,
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Whose friendship I esteemed dear,
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Did say, It is a gallant thing
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To be beloved of a King;
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By her perswasions I was led,
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For to defile my marriage-bed,
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And wrong my wedded Husband Shore,
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Whom I had lov'd ten years before.
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In heart and mind I did rejoyce,
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That I had made so sweet a Choice;
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And therefore did my state resign,
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To be King, Edw[a]rds Concubine.
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From City then to Court I went,
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To reap the pleasures of content;
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And had the joys that Love could bring,
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And knew the secrets of a King.
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When I was thus advanc'd on high,
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Commanding Edward with mine eye,
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For Mistress Blague I in short space
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Obtain'd a living of his Grace.
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No Friend I had but in short time
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I made unto promotion climb.
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But yet for all this costly pride,
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My Husband could not me abide;
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H[i]s bed, though wronged by a King,
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His heart with grief did deadly sting.
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F[r]om England then he goes away,
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To end his life upon the Sea;
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He could not live to see his name
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Impared by my wanton shame;
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Although a Prince of peerless might,
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Did reap the pleasure of his right.
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Long time I lived in the Court,
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With Lords and Ladies of great sort;
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For when I smil'd all Men were glad,
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But when I mourn'd my Prince grew sad.
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But yet an honest mind I bore,
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To helpless People that were poor,
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I still redrest the Orphan's cry,
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And sav'd their lives condemn'd to die.
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I still had ruth on Widows tears,
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I succour'd Babes of tender years;
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And never lookt for other gain,
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But love and thanks for all my pain.
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At last my Royal King did dye,
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And then my days of woe grew nigh,
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When Crook-back'd R. got the crown,
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K. Edwards Friends were soon put down,
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I then was punisht for my sin,
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That I so long had lived in;
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Yea, every one that was his Friend,
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This Tyrant brought to shameful end.
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Then for my rude and wanton life,
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That made a Strumpet of a Wife,
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I pennance did in Lumbard-Street,
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In shameful manner in a sheet;
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Where many thousands did me view,
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Who late in Court my credit knew;
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Which made the tears run down my face
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To think upon my foul disgrace.
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Not thus content, they took from me
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My goods, my livings, and my fee,
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And charg'd that none should me relieve,
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Nor any succour to me give.
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Then unto Mistress Blague I went,
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To whom my jewels I had sent,
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In hope thereby to ease my want,
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When riches fail'd, and love grew scant.
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But she deny'd to me the same,
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When in my need for them I came;
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To recompence my former love,
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Out of her doors she did me shove.
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So love did vanish with my state,
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Which now my soul repents too late;
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Therefore example take by me,
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For friendship parts in poverty.
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But yet one Friend among the rest,
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Whom I before had seen distrest,
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And sav'd his life, condemn'd to dye,
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Did give me food to succour me;
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For which, by law, it was decreed,
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That he was hanged for that deed;
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His death did greve me so much more,
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Then had I dy'd myself therefore.
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Then those to whom I had done good,
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Durst not restore me any food;
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Whereby in vain I beg'd all day,
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And still in secret by night I lay.
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My gowns beset with pearl and gold,
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Are turn'd to simple garments old;
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My chains and jems and golden rings,
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To filthy rags and loathsome things.
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Thus was I scorn'd of Maid and Wife,
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For leading such a wicked life:
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Both sucking Babes and Children small,
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Did make a pastime at my fall;
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I could not get one bit of bread,
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Whereby my hunger might be fed,
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Nor drink, but such as channels yield,
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Or stinking ditches in the field;
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Thus weary of my life, at le[n]gth
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I yielded up my vital strength,
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Within a ditch of loathsome scent,
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Where carrion-dogs do much frequent,
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The which now since my dying day,
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Is Shoreditch call'd, as Writers say:
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Which is a witness of my sin,
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For being Concubine to a King.
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You wanton Wives that fall to lust,
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Be you assur'd that God is just;
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Whoredom shall not escape his hand,
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Nor pride unpunisht in this land;
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If God to me such shame did bring,
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That did yielded only to a King,
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How shall they 'scape, that daily run
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To practice sin with every Man?
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You Husbands, match not, but for love,
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Lest some disliking after prove;
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Women be warn'd when you are wives,
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What plagues are due to sinful lives:
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Then Maids and Wives, in time amend,
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For Love and Beauty will have end.
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The Second Part of J. SHORE, wherein her Husband Bewai[l]ed his
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her Estate, Wantonness, the Wrong of Marriage, and the Fall of Pride.
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IF she that was fair Londons Pride,
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For beauty fam'd both far and wide,
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With swanlike-song in sadness told
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Her deep distresses manifold:
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Then in the same let me also,
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Now bear a part of such like woe:
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Kind Matthew Shore, Men called me,
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A Goldsmith once of good degree,
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And might have lived long therein,
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Had not my Wife been wed to sin:
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Ah! gentle Jane, thy wanton race,
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Hath brought me to this foul disgrace.
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Thou hadst all things at wish and will,
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Thy wanton fancy to fulfil;
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No London Dame, nor Merchant's Wife,
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Did lead so sweet and pleasant life:
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Then, gentle Jane, the truth report,
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Why left'st thou me to live in Court?
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Thou hadst both gold and silver store,
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No Wife in London then had more;
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And once a week to walk in field,
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To see what pleasure it would yield.
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But woe to me, that liberty,
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Hath brought me to his misery:
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I married thee whilst thou wert young,
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Before thou knew'st what did belong
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To Husband's love, or marriage state,
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Which now my soul repents too late:
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Thus wanton pride made thee unjust,
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And so deceived was my trust.
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But when the King possest my room,
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And crept my rosie gallant bloom,
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Fair Londons Blossom, and my Joy,
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My heart was drown'd in deep annoy,
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To think how unto publick shame,
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Thy wicked life brought my good name.
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And then I thought each Man and Wife,
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In jesting sort accus'd my life;
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And every one to the other said,
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That Shores fair Wife the Wanton plaid;
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Thereby in mind I grew to change
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My dwelling in some Country strange;
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My [l]ands and goods I sold away,
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An also from England went to Sea;
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Opprest with grief and woful mind,
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But left my Cause of grief behind:
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My loving Wife, whom I once thought,
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Would never be to lewdness brought;
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But Wom[e]n now I well espy,
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Are subject to unconstancy;
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And few there be so true to love,
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But by long suit will wanton prove;
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For Flesh is f[r]ail, and Women weak,
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When Kings for love long suit do make.
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But yet from England, my depart,
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Was with a sad and heavy heart;
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Whereat when as my l[e]ave I took,
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I sent back many heavy look,
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Desiring G[o]d, if it might be,
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To send one sigh, sweet Jane, to thee;
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For if thou hadst but constant been,
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These days of woe I ne'r had seen;
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But yet I mourn and grieve full sore,
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To think what plauges are left in store,
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For such as careless tread awry,
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The modest paths of constancy:
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Ah! gentle Jane, if thou didst know,
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The uncouth paths I daily go,
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And woful tears for thee I shed,
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For wronging thus my marriage-bed,
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Then sure I am thou would'st confess,
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My love was true though in distress.
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Both Flanders, France, and Spain I past,
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And came to Turky at the last;
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And there within that mighty Court,
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I lived long in honest sort;
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Desiring God, that sits in Heaven,
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That Lovers sins might be forgiven;
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And there advanc'd thy loving name,
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Of living Wights the fairest Dame;
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The Praise of Englands Beauty stain,
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All which thy Husband did maintain,
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And set thy picture there in gold,
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For Kings and Princes to behold.
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But when I thought upon thy sin,
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Thy wanton thoughts delighted in,
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I griev'd that such a comely face,
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Should hold true honour in disgrace,
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And counted it a luckless day,
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When as thou first did'st go astray.
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Desiring then some news to hear,
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Of her my soul did love so dear,
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My secrets then I did impart,
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To one well skill'd in Magick Art,
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Who in a glass did truly show,
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Such things as I desir'd to know:
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I there did see thy courtly state,
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Thy pomp, thy pride, thy glory great;
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And likewise there I did behold,
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My Jane in Edwards arms infold:
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Thy secret love I there espy'd,
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Thy rice, thy fall, and how thou dy'd;
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Thy naked body in the street,
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I saw do penance in a sheet;
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Barefooted before the Beadle's wand,
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With burning taper in thy hand,
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And Babes, not having use of tongue,
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Stood pointing as thou went'st along.
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Thus ended was the shame of thine,
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Though God gave yet no end to mine
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When I suppos'd my name forgot,
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And time had washt away my blot,
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And in another Prince's reign,
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I came to England back again:
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But staying there, my Friends decay'd,
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My Prince's laws I disobey'd.
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And by true justice judg'd to dye,
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For clipping gold in secresie:
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By gold was my best living made,
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And so by gold my life decay'd.
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Thus have you heard the woful strife,
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That came by my unconstant Wife,
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Her fall, my death, wherein is shew'd,
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The story of a Strumpet lewd;
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In hope thereby some Women may
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Take heed how they the Wonton play.
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