Mrs. PAGEs COMPLAINT
for causing her Husband to be Murthered
for the Love of George Strangwidge.
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IF ever woe did touch a woman's heart,
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Or grief did gall for sin the outward part;
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My conscience then and heavy heart wi[t]hin,
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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 was not fed;
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I was content their pleasures to obey,
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Although my heart was linkt another way.
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Great were the gifts they proferred in my sight,
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With wealth they thought to win me to delight;
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But gold nor gifts my mind could not remove,
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For I was linkt 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 his 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 abegging 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 plai[n]
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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 father's deed,
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And grant all parents 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 joys did lye,
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Through my amiss 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 though 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 entrice,
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Seek to escape such foul and sinful 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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Pardon my faults and follies, I thee pray,
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And with thy blood wash thou my sins away.
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GEORGE STRANDWIGGEs
Lamentation for Pages Death to senccting
for the Love of Ulalia, Pages Wife.
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THe man that sighs and sorrows for his sin,
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The corpse which care and woe hath wrap'd 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 had'st thou to bear such wicked spight
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Against my love, and eke my heart's 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 yet 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 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 brighter than the the summer's 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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Than 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 liv'd, 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 worthless love hath brought my life in scorn,
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And woe is me that ever I was born.
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Farewel my love, whose loyal heart was seen,
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I would thou hadst not halft 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 sowre did fortue lowre,
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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 committ,
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Who was the cause of matching them unfit:
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And yet I cannot so my guilt 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 live:
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Blind fancy said, This suit do not deny,
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Live thou in bliss, or else in sorrow dye.
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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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