%ISOlat1; %ISOlat2; %ISOnum; %ISOpub; ]> The wofull complaint of a Loue-sicke Mayde, / She was afrayde to haue died a Mayde: / Because her Loue did proue vnkinde, / She thought he was gone a new Loue to finde. 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 04/20/2011 30199

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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

S108795 AS't was my chance to walke abroad / one time to take the ayre, HArke, harke, me thinks I heare one speake / what should this Eccho meane? Roxburghe Ballads Editor None None None None Information in this section of the Source Description refers to the original ballad manuscript. 1: 280 1: 281 The wofull complaint of a Loue-sicke Mayde, / She was afrayde to haue died a Mayde: / Because her Loue did proue vnkinde, / She thought he was gone a new Loue to finde. The wofull complaint of a Loue-sicke Mayde, She was afrayde to haue died a Mayde: Because her Loue did proue vnkinde, She thought he was gone a new Loue to finde. The woeful complaint of a Lovesick Maid, She was afraid to have died a Maid: Because her Love did prove unkind, She thought he was gone a new Love to find. 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 4/20/2011 Santa Barbara, California, United States of America love Ballads, English 17th century Broadsides, England 17th century 4/20/2011 1:45:42 PM XBallad Doss, MacKenzie Created XML Version of Ballad 4/20/2011 1:45:42 PM Transcription Supervisor McAbee, Kristina, Nebeker, Eric Transcription of ballad manuscript 4/20/2011 1:45:42 PM Double-Key Comparison and Merging Mann, Rachel Transcription of ballad manuscript 4/20/2011 1:45:42 PM Transcriptionist Two Meyer, Shannon Transcription of ballad manuscript 4/20/2011 1:45:42 PM Transcriptionist One Becker, Charlotte Transcription of ballad manuscript 7/14/2008 Bibliographer Giles Bergel Initial Ballad Catalogue Record Created 3/3/2009 Checker Kris McAbee Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 11/24/2010 Checker Shannon Meyer Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 11/24/2010 Checker Shannon Meyer Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 11/10/2008 Checker Meghan Fadel Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 1/31/2011 Checker Bethany Wong Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 1/31/2011 Checker Bethany Wong Edited Ballad Catalogue Record
<seg n="1" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">The wofull complaint of a Love-sicke Mayde,</hi></seg> <seg n="2" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">She was afrayde to have died a Mayde:</hi></seg> <seg n="3" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">Because her Love did prove unkinde,</hi></seg> <seg n="4" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">She thought he was gone a new Love to finde.</hi></seg> <lb/> <seg n="5" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">To the tune of <hi rend="bold">Come my sweet and bonny one.</hi></hi></seg>
ASt was my chance to walke abroad one time to take the ayre, I heard a faire Maide make great moane, and she was in great care[:] Alas (quoth she) now woe is me, my Love is from me gone, And I am here in griefe and care, and comfortlesse alone. O art thou gone away from me, and bidst me not adue; Hast thou forsaken thy olde true Love, and changed me for a new? Being its so, as I doe know, thou bearst a flattering minde: Because that thou dist make a vow, to prove both true and kinde. Thou saidst to me thou wouldst be true, and ever wouldst endure: But now I see thou art not so, thou seekst for to procure My endlesse woe, which will I know, in time procure my smart: Because that thou keepst not thy vow, but seekst to breake my heart.
O faithlesse false & forsworne wretch, how couldst thou have the heart, To leave a Mayden in distresse? O tis a Judas part: But cruell thou, though thou didst vow, thou little dost regard, What cruell paines may be thy gaines at last for thy reward. You Maydens all example take by me that am in griefe: And have beene caught in Cupids net, which yeelds me no reliefe: Because I am sure Im undone, what shall I say or doe? But may complaine, and all in vaine, my heart will breake with woe. Would God I could enjoy my Love, though he be much unkinde, And that he would turne to his Dove, that never changd her minde. But being he is gone from me, and left me here in scorne: I must decay, and waste away, and pine, and grieve, and mourne. I doe expect my time is short, and soone will have an end: Because my Love is false in heart,, pray God he may amend, And prove more true, tos Lover new, then he hath been to me: Adieu sweet Love, pray God above, full safe that thou mayst be. Now of my speech I make an end, and meane to say no more: But well I wish unto my friend, God blesse him evermore: Though I have spoke, God may provoke his minde to turne againe, For to love me, most faithfully, and long for to remaine.
FINIS.
<seg n="1" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">The young mans kinde reply unto the comfortlesse Mayde,</hi></seg> <seg n="2" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">He grees with his Love in all shee hath sayd,</hi></seg> <seg n="3" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">Shewing to her a part of his minde,</hi></seg> <seg n="4" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">That he will be alwayes most loving and kinde.</hi></seg> <lb/> <seg n="5" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">To the tune <hi rend="bold">Of the pride of Leister Shire.</hi></hi></seg>
HArke, harke, me thinks I heare one speake what should this Eccho meane? I thinke it be my owne true Love, my faire and onely Dame: O why shouldst thou, my Philladay, complaine that I am gone, And knowest I am the onely man, that loveth thee alone? I am not gone away from thee, my onely hearts delight: But comfort thou shalt finde by me, by day and eke by night: My owne sweet Love, and Turtle Dove, be not disturbd in minde: For thou shalt finde, I will prove kinde, and never change againe. I promised thee for to be true, and so I will endure, Though I at first did prove thy heart, tis good for to be sure, To prove thy minde, and know thee kinde, for many false there be, And so mightst thou, for ought I know, have proved unto me. Though I did make a vow to thee, and pawned with thee my heart, Yet thou hast spoken unto me, as though thou wouldst depart:
But now I find thee true and kinde, and I the like will be: Whilst death doth part, my tender heart, I will not part with thee: All you kind hearts that have true loves, by me example take: And have a care, whereto you sweare for the Almighties sake: Doe not goe on as I have done, to breed a Maydens smart: But turne in time, in heart and minde, and ease your true Loves heart. Would God I ner had wrongd my Love, nor beene to her unkinde: Then should she have no cause to mourne, nor be disturbd in minde: But being its so, I well doe know, I must unto her goe; And speake my minde, in loving kinde, and ease her of her woe. Come, come, sweet heart, doe not repent, nor wrastle in despaire, Though I to thee have beene unkind, Ile ease thee of thy care: For I will prove constant in love, as alwayes thou shalt finde, I will be true, not change for new, but alwayes will be kinde. Come, Love, lets speake no more of this, but faithfully lets joyne: And looke before what was amisse, I meane for to amend: Come let us now, performe our vow, and make no more adoe: But let us joyne in heart and minde, and so to Church lets goe. And so these Lovers made an end, of these their former words: One loved the other heartily, not breeding no discords: In peace I pray long live they may, and all true Lovers else: What ere they be, or what degree, so much is spoke of mee.
FINIS.
London Printed for F. Coules.