THE
Lady Isabella's Tragedy:
OR,
The Step-Mother's Cruelty:
Being a Relaion of a lamentable and cruel MURTHER committed on
the Body of the Lady ISABELLA, the only Daughter of a Noble Duke, occa-
sion'd by her Step-Mother, and acted by the Master-cook, who were both adjudg'd
to suffer Death for the said Murther. To the Tune of, The Lady's Fall, etc.
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THere was a Lord of worthy fame,
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and ahunting he would ride,
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Attended with a noble Train
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of Gentry by his side:
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And whilst he did in chase remain,
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to see both sport and play,
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His Lady went, as she did feign,
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unto the Church to pray.
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This Lord he had a Daughter fair,
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whose beauty shin'd so bright,
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She was belov'd both far and near
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of many a Lord and Knight.
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Fair Issabella was she call'd,
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a Creature fair was she;
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She was her Father's only Joy,
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as you shall after see.
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But yet her cruel Step-mother,
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did envy her so much,
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That day by day she sought her life,
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her malice it was such.
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She bargain'd with the Master-cook
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to take her life away;
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And taking of her Daughter's book,
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she thus to her did say:
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Go home, sweet Daughter, I thee pray,
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go hasten presently,
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And tell unto the Master-cook,
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these words that I tell thee:
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And bid him dress to dinner streight,
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that fair and milk white Doe,
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That in the park doth shine so bright,
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there's none to fair to show.
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This Lady fearing of no harm,
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obey'd her Mother's will,
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And presently she hasted home,
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her mind for to fulfil.
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She streight into the kitchin went,
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her message for to tell,
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And there the Master-cook she spy'd,
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who did with malice swell:
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Now Master-cook, it must be so,
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do that which I thee tell,
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You needs must dress the milk white Doe,
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which you do know full well.
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Then streight his cruel bloody hands
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he on the Lady laid,
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Who quivering and shaking stands,
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whilst thus to her he said:
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Thou art the Doe that I must dress,
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see here, behold my knife,
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For it is pointed presently
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to rid thee of thy life.
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O then cry'd out the Scullion-boy,
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as loud as loud might be,
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O save her life, good Master-cook,
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and make your pies of me:
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For pitty sake do not destroy
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my Lady with your knife,
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You know she is her Father's Joy;
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for Christ's sake save her life.
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I will not save her life, said he,
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nor make my pies of thee;
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Yet if thou dost this deed bewray,
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thy Butcher I will be.
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Now when this Lord he did come home,
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for to sit down and eat,
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He called for his Daughter dear
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to come and carve his meat.
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Now sit you down, his Lady said,
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O sit you down to meat,
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Into some Nunnery she is gone,
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your Daughter dear forget.
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Then solemnly he made a vow,
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before the Company,
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That he would neither eat nor drink
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until he did her see.
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O then bespoke the Scullion-boy,
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with a loud voice so high,
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If that you will your Daughter see,
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my Lord, cut up that pie;
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Wherein her flesh is minced small,
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and parched with the fire:
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All caused by her Step-mother,
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who did her death desire.
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And cursed be the Master-cook,
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O cursed may he be;
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I proffer'd him my own heart's blood,
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from death to set her free.
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Then all in black this Lord did mourn,
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and for his Daughter's sake,
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He judged for her Step-mother
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to be burnt at a stake.
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Likewise he judg'd the Master-cook,
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in boiling lead to stand:
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He made the simple Scullion-boy
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the Heir to all his Land.
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