%ISOlat1; %ISOlat2; %ISOnum; %ISOpub; ]> The distressed Virgin: / OR, / The false Young-man, and the constant Maid, / The qualities of them both displaid. Parker, Martin University of California - Santa Barbara The Early Modern Center Director Patricia Fumerton 1624-1624 Early Modern Center, University of California Santa Barbara Santa Barbara, CA 04/18/2011 30062

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Patricia Fumerton Early Modern Center - English Department University of California Santa Barbara, CA 93105 United States of America EMail: pfumer@english.ucsb.edu

S112529 2 an excellent new Tune UNKNOWN An Excellent New Tune the same tune UNKNOWN The Same Tune A Thousand times my love commend, / to him that hath my heart in hold, NAy more, he made a vow to me, / that I should be his wedded wife, Roxburghe Ballads Editor None None None None Information in this section of the Source Description refers to the original ballad manuscript. 1: 90 1: 91 The distressed Virgin: / OR, / The false Young-man, and the constant Maid, / The qualities of them both displaid. The distressed Virgin: OR, The false Young-man, and the constant Maid, The qualities of them both displaid. The distressed Virgin: OR, The false Young man, and the constant Maid, The qualities of them both displayed. Parker, Martin 1624-1624 F. Coules

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 Early Modern Center Ballad Project Keyword Taxonomy advice affliction/ health alcohol animals/ nature Bible/ biblical figures buildings/ architecture catastrophe children class clothing/ appearance country/ nation crime death economics/ commerce entertainments family folklore gender holidays/ seasons infidelity labor/ craft law London love maritime marriage military/ war monstrosity mythology/ Classical news nobility/ court politics/ government procreation punishment race/ ethnicity religious concepts religious figures religious types & sects royalty rural life servitude sex/ sexuality supernatural/ magic The New World travel trickery/ deceit urban life vice violence virtue vulgarities/ crass humor youth/ age Library of Congress Subject Heading Taxonomy 4/18/2011 Santa Barbara, California, United States of America infidelity love Ballads, English 17th century Broadsides, England 17th century 4/18/2011 12:13:37 PM XBallad Meyer, Shannon Created XML Version of Ballad 4/18/2011 12:13:37 PM Transcription Supervisor McAbee, Kristina, Nebeker, Eric Transcription of ballad manuscript 4/18/2011 12:13:37 PM Double-Key Comparison and Merging Zusky, Catherine Transcription of ballad manuscript 4/18/2011 12:13:37 PM Transcriptionist Two Meyer, Shannon Transcription of ballad manuscript 4/18/2011 12:13:37 PM Transcriptionist One Fadel, Meghan Transcription of ballad manuscript 8/27/2010 Checker Shannon Meyer Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 7/3/2008 Bibliographer Giles Bergel Initial Ballad Catalogue Record Created 4/15/2011 Transcriber Fadel, Meghan Created Ballad XML 4/15/2011 Transcriber Meyer, Shannon Created Ballad XML 4/15/2011 Double-Key Transcription Merger Zusky, Catherine Created Ballad XML 4/15/2011 Transcription Supervisor McAbee, Kristina, Nebeker, Eric Created Ballad XML 4/15/2011 XBallad Doss, MacKenzie Created Ballad XML 4/13/2011 Transcriber Fadel, Meghan Created Ballad XML 4/13/2011 Transcriber Meyer, Shannon Created Ballad XML 4/13/2011 Double-Key Transcription Merger Zusky, Catherine Created Ballad XML 4/13/2011 Transcription Supervisor McAbee, Kristina, Nebeker, Eric Created Ballad XML 4/13/2011 XBallad Doss, MacKenzie Created Ballad XML 10/29/2008 Checker Shannon Meyer Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 1/13/2011 Checker Bethany Wong Edited Ballad Catalogue Record
<seg n="1" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">The distressed Virgin:</hi></seg> <seg n="2" rend="left"><hi rend="italic"><hi rend="bold">OR,</hi> </hi></seg> <seg n="3" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">The false Young-man, and the constant Maid,</hi></seg> <seg n="4" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">The qualities of them both displaid.</hi></seg> <seg n="5" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">To an excellent new Tune.</hi></seg>
A Thousand times my love commend, to him that hath my heart in hold, I tooke him for my dearest friend, his Love I more esteemd than Gold. When that mine did eyes see his face, and that mine cares had heard his voyce, His Love I freely did embrace, my heart told me he was my choice. O had he still continued true, and in affection permanent, Had hee performed what was due, then had I found true hearts content: But hee, regardlesse of his vow, which he did make to me before, Hath thus in sorrow left me now, my former follies to deplore. Would I had never seene those eyes, that (like attractive Adamants) Did my poore heart with love surprize, the power of love so me enchants. I have no power to leave his love, though with sterne hate he me pursue. To him I will most constant prove, though he be faithlesse and untrue. I put my finger unto the bush, thinking the sweetest Rose to find, I prickt my finger to the bone, and yet I left the Rose behind: If Roses be such prickling flowers, they must be gathered when thare green, But she that loves an unkind Love, alas, she rowes against the streame.
Oh, would he but conceive aright, the griefe that I for him sustaine, He could not chuse but change his spight to faithfull love, and leave disdaine. I love to have him still in place, his too long absence makes me mourne, Yet he disdaines to see my face, and holds my company in scorne. It grieves my heart full sore to thinke, that he whom I so dearely love, Should thus refuse with me to drinke, yet can my passion nere remove: Though he, I know, could wish my death, so great is his inveterate hate, Yet I could sooner lose my breath, than see him wrongd in name or state. Ill hap had I to come in place, where first I saw his tempting looke, As soone as I beheld his face, I Cupids prisoner straight was tooke: And never since that fatall houre I have enjoyed one minutes rest, The thought of him is of such power, it never can forsake my brest. Then was I strucke with Cupids Dart, then was my fancie captivated, Then did I vow that still my heart should rest with him though me he hated: Then did he make a shew of love, which did much more my heart enflame, But now he doth perfidious prove, and gives me cause his love to blame.
<seg n="1" rend="left"><hi rend="bold"><hi rend="italic">T</hi></hi><hi rend="italic">he second part, To the same tune.</hi></seg>
NAy more, he made a vow to me, that I should be his wedded wife, And he forsakes me now I see, which makes me weary of my life: I little thought what now I finde, that Youngmen could dissemble so, Sure hes the falsest of his kinde, ill hap have I to prove him so. Could any man be so hard hearted, to leave a harmelesse Maid in griefe: From me all comfort cleane is parted, unlesse his favour grant reliefe. Hee is the man that bred my paine, he is the man whose love alone Must be the salve to cure my paine, or else my life will soone be gone. O faithlesse wretch, consider well that Heaven abhorreth perjury: Great torments are prepard in Hell for them that thus will sweare and lye. Oh hadst thou never made a show of love, thou hadst excusd thy blame: But thy false heart full well doth know what oaths thy perjurd tongue did frame. That obstacle that hinders me is that which I suspect full sore: His fruit growes on some other tree, and hes seduced by some whore: Or else he hath some other Lasse, perhaps like me, a harmlesse Maid, Whom he may bring to such a passe, as I am brought by Cupids aide.
Oh Heavens forbid that any one, that beares an honest loving mind, Should thus have cause to grieve and moan, for such a knave that shames his kind, But why should I as passions move, with bitter words upon him raile, Whom I am ever bound to love, untill my vitall spirits faile. Sweet Love forgive my lavish tongue, if I offend in any sort: To recompence thee for that wrong, Ile alwayes give thee good repo[r]t, Although to me thou art unkind, who never gave thee any cause: Yet I am still resolvd in mind, never to breake God Cupids Lawes. And if I never be thy wife, (which is the thing I justly claime) I vow to live a single life, and never thinke of Lovers game. But why speake I of life, when death doth every minute claime his due? I cannot long retaine my breath, having a Lover so untrue. Let all true Lovers judge aright, in what a case poore soule am I: Come gentle death, and worke thy spight, for now I am prepard to dye: O Heaven forgive my Love his wrong, done unto me a Maiden pure, Who for his sake must dye ere long, for long my life cannot endure.
Printed at London, for F. Coules. FINIS M.P.