The unfortunate Concubine: Or Rosamond's Overthrow. Occasion'd by her
Brother's unadvisedly praising her Beauty and Shape, to two young Knights of
Salisbury, as they rid on the Road.
Enter'd in the Stamp-Office, according to Act of Parliament.
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SWeet youthful charming ladies fair,
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Fram'd of the purest Mold,
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With rosie cheeks and silken hair,
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Which shine like threads of Gold;
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Soft tears of Pity here bestow
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For the unhappy Fate
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Of Rosamond, who long ago,
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Was most unfortunate.
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When Henry the second reign'd
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On the Imperial throne,
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How he this Flower gain'd,
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To you I shall make knowen.
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With all the Circumstances too,
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Which did her life attend,
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How first she into Favour grew,
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And of her fatal End.
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As three young Knights of Salisbury
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Were riding on the way,
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One boasted of a fair Lady,
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Within her Bower so gay:
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I have a sister, young Clifford said,
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But few Men doth her know,
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The Skin of her Face it doth appear
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Like drops of blood on Snow.
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My Sister's Locks of curled hair,
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Outshines the Golden ore,
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Her Skin for whiteness may compare
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with the fine Lilly Flower.
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Her breasts are lovely to behold,
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Like to the driven Snow,
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I would not for her weight in Gold,
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King Henry should her know.
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King Henry had a bower near,
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Where they were riding by
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And he did Clifford overhear:
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Thought he immediately,
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Though I her Brother should offend,
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For that fair white and red,
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Forthwith I am resolv'd to send,
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To Grace my royal bed,
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The King who was of high Renown,
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Would not his Fancy pall
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For having writ his Pleasure down,
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he did youg Clifford call:
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Come hither to me, now out of hand,
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Come hither unto me,
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I am the King of fair England,
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My messenger thou shalt be.
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I to your Sister here have writ
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Three Letters seal'd with gold,
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No Messenger I think so fit
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As you; therefore, behold,
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Convey them to her hand with speed,
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Make not the least delay;
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My will and pleasure let her read,
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And my Commands obey.
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Young Clifford then the Letters took
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From Henrys Royal hand,
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Thow with a melancholy Look,
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Mounted out of hand.
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Soft tears bedim'd his noble Sight,
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His grieved heart was sad,
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Altho' he was as brave a Knight,
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As any King Henry had.
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With that this noble Knight of Fame
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Rode on without delay,
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Until he to the Bower came
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Which was both rich and gay;
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She cry'd, when he knockt at the ring,
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Who raps so fierce and bold?
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Sister, I have brought from the King,
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Three Letters seal'd with Gold.
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Then with her fingers long and small,
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she broke the seales of Gold.
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And as she did to reading fall,
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At first they might behold
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The smiles of pleasant sweet delight,
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As if well satisfy'd:
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But ere had concluded quite,
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she wrung her hands, and cry'd,
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Why did you boast beyond your bounds,
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When oxford Town you see?
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You might have talk'd of hawks & hounds
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And never Bragg'd of me.
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When by the King I am defild'd,
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My Father's Grief 't will begin,
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He'll have no Comfort of his Child,
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Nor coming to my wedding.
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Go fetch me down my planet Book,
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straight from my priveat Room,
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For in the same I mean to look
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What is decreed my doom:
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The Planet-book to her they brought,
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And laid it on her knee;
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She found that all would come to nought,
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For poison'd she should be.
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I curse you, Brother, she cry'd,
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Who cause'd my destiny;
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I might have been some Lord's fair Brine,
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But you have ruin'd me.
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With that she call'd her waiting Maid,
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To bring her Riding-Hood;
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And to her Groom she likewise said,
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Go saddle my milk white steed.
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Some rid before for to report,
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Her coming to the King;
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As she approach'd the Royal Court,
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Sweet Peals of Bells did ring;
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A Garland over her Head they bore,
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To magnify her Charme;
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And as we came the King before,
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He clasp'd her in his Armes.
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With blushes then she did beseech
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The King on her bare Knee,
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The words were these, I pray, my liege,
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What is your will with me.
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Said he, I sent for thee,
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To grace my Royal Bed;
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Now as he did his Mind disclose,
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She blushed Scarlet red.
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Blush not, my fairest Rosamond,
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Fear no unhappy Fate,
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For by my Kingly Power I can
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Place thee in happy State:
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No Lady in this Court of mine,
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Can purchase thy desert.
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Whose pleasant Looks & charms divine,
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Has won my Royal heart.
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The Gifts and presents of a King,
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Soon caus'd her to comply,
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Thinking there was not anything
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Like royal dignity.
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But as her bright and golden Scene
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In Court began to shine;
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The News was carry'd to the Queen,
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Of this new Concubine.
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At which she was inraged so,
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With Mallice in her Breast,
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That till she wrought her overthrow,
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She could not be at rest.
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She felt the fury of the Queen,
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Before she had flourish'd long,
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And dy'd just as she had foreseen,
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By force of poyson strong,
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The angry Queen with Malice fraught,
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Could not herself contain,
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Till she fair Rosamond had brought
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to her sad fatal Bane;
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The sweet and charming precious Rose,
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King Henry's chief delight,
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The Queen she to the Bower came,
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And wrought her hateful spight.
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But when she to the Bower came,
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Where Lady Clifford lay,
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Inraged Ellenor by Name,
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she could not find the way,
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Untill the silken Clew of thread,
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became the fatal Guide.
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Unto the Queen, who laid her dead,
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e're she was satisfy'd.
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Alas! it was no small surprise
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to Rosamond the fair
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When death appear'd before her Eyes,
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no faithful Friend was there,
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That could not stand in her defence,
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to the Poyson by;
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So by the hand of Violence,
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she was compell'd to dye.
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O most renowned gracious Queen,
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Compassion take of me;
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I wish that I had never seen
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such royal dignity:
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Betray'd I was, and by degrees,
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a sad consent I gave;
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And now upon my bended Knees,
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I do your pardon crave.
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I will not pardon you, she cry'd,
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so take this fatal Cup,
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And you may well be satisfy'd,
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I'll see you drink it up.
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Then with her fair and milk white hand
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the fatal Cup she took;
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Which being drank, she could not stand
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but soon the world forsook.
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Now when the King was well inform'd,
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what Ellinor had done,
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His breast he smote, in wrath he storm'd,
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as if he would have run
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Besides his Senses, and he swore,
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for this inhumane deed,
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He never would Bed with her more;
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his royal Heart did bleed.
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The King did not stand pausing long,
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how to reward her Spleen;
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But straight in a close Prison strong,
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he cast his cruel Queen,
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Where she lay six and twenty Years,
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a long Captivity,
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Bathed in Floods of weeping Tears,
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then his death set her free,
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Now when her Son he did succeed
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his Father, Great Henry
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His royal Mother soon he freed
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from her Captivity;
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And she set many more at large,
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who long for debt had lain,
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Her Royal Pity did discharge
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hundreds in Edward's Reign.
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