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EBBA 37421

British Library - Bagford
Ballad XSLT Template
Constance and Anthony:
OR, AN
Admirable new Northern STORY,
Of two constant Lovers, as I understand,
Were born near Appleby in Westmoreland;
The Lad's name Anthony, Constance the Lass;
To Sea they went both and great Dangers did pass:
How they suffer'd Shipwrack on the Coast of Spain,
For two Years divided, and then met again;
By wonderful Fortune and Care accident,
And now both live at Home with Joy and Content.
To the Tune of, I would thou wert in Shrewsbury.

TWo Lovers in the North,
Constance and Anthony,
Of them I will set forth
a gallant history;
They lov'd exceeding well,
as plainly doth appear;
But that which I shall tell,
the like you ne'r did hear:
Still she crys, Anthony,
my bonny Anthony,
Gang thou by land or sea,
I'll wend along with thee.

Anthony must to sea,
his calling doth him bind,
My Constance, Dear, quoth he,
I must leave thee behind;
I prithee do not grieve,
thy tears will not prevail;
I'll think on thee, my Sweet,
when the ship's under sail.
But still, etc.

How may that be, said he,
consider well the case.
Quoth she, Sweet Anthony,
I'll bide not in this place:
If thou gang, so will I;
of the means do not doubt,
A Woman's policy,
great matters may find out:
My bonny Anthony, etc.

I would be very glad;
but prethee tell me how?
I'll dress me like a Lad,
what say'st thou to me now?
The sea thou canst not brook
Yes, very well, quoth she;
I'll scullion to the Cook,
for thy sweet company:
My bonny Anthony,
my bonny Anthony,
Gang thou by land or sea,
I'll wend along with thee.

Anthonys leave she had,
and drest in Man's array,
She seem'd the blithest Lad,
seen on a summer's day.
O see what love can do!
at home she will not 'bide:
With her true Love she'll go,
let weal or woe betide:
My dearest Anthony,
my dearest Anthony,
Gang thou by land or sea,
I'll wend along with thee.

In the ship 'twas her lot
to be the Under-cook:
And at the fire hot
great pains she took:
She served e'ry one
fitting to their degree;
And now and then alone
she kissed Anthony.
My bonny, etc.

Alack and well-a-day,
by tempest on the main,
Their ship was cast away
upon the coast of Spain,
To th' mercy of the waves
they all committed were;
Constance her own self saves,
then she cries for her Dear,
My bonny, etc.

Swimming upon a plank,
at Bilbo she got ashore;
First she did Heaven thank,
then she lamented sore,
O woe is me, said she,
the saddest Lass alive,

My dearest Anthony,
now on the sea doth drive:
My bonny Anthony,
my bonny Anthony,
Gang thou by land or sea,
I'll wend along with thee.

What shall become of me!
why do I strive for shore,
Sith my sweet Anthony,
I never shall see thee more?
Fair Constance, do not grive,
the same good Providence,
Hath sav'd thy Lover sweet,
but he is far from hence:
Still she, etc.

A Spanish Merchant rich,
saw this fair seeming Lad,
That did lament so much,
and was so grievous sad:
He had in England been,
and English understood,
He having heard and seen,
he in amazement stood:
Still she, etc.

The Merchant asked her,
what was that Anthony;
Quoth she, My Brother, Sir,
who came from thence with me.
He did her entertain,
thinking she was a Boy;
Two years she did remain,
before she met her Joy:
Still she crys, Anthony,
my bonny Anthony,
Gang thou by land or sea,
I'll wend along with thee.

Anthony up was tane
by an English Runagade,
With whom he did remain
at the sea roving-trade:
I'th' nature of a Slave
he hid i'th' galley row
Thus he his life did save,
but Constance did not know;
Still she crys, Anthony
my bonny Anthony,
Gang thou by land or sea,
I'll wend along with thee.

Now mark what came to pass,
see how the Fates did work,
A ship that her Master's was.
surpriz'd this English-Turk,
And into Bilbo brought
all that aboard her were;
Constance full little thought,
Anthony was so near:
Still she, etc.

When they were come on shore,
Anthony and the rest,
She who was sad before,
was now with joy possest;
The Merchant much did muse,
at this so sudden change;
He did demand the news,
which unto him was strange:
Now she, etc.

Upon her knees she fell,
unto her Master kind,
And all the truth did tell,
nothing she kept behind:
At which he did admire,
and in a ship of Spain,
Not paying for the hire,
he sent them home again:
Now she, etc.

The Spanish Merchant rich,
did of's own bounty give
A sum of gold, on which
they now do bravely live:
And now in Westmoreland,
they were joyn'd hand in hand
Constance and Anthony,
they live in mirth and glee:
Still she crys, Anthony,
my bonny Anthony,
Good providence we see,
hath guarded thee and me.


Licens'd and Enter'd.
London: Printed by and for W.O. and
are to be sold by the Booksellers of
Pye-corner and London-bridge.

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