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EBBA 30394

British Library - Roxburghe
Ballad XSLT Template
A Proper new Ballad, Intituled, the wandring Prince
of Troy. The tune is, Queen Dido.

WHen Troy Town for ten years Warrs
withstood the Greeks in manfull wise,
Then did their foes increase so fast,
that to resist none could suffice,
Waste lye those wals that were so good,
And Corn now grows where Troy town stood.

AEneas wandring Prince of Troy,
when he for Land long time had sought,
At length arrived with great joy,
to mighty Carthage walls was brought,
Where Didos Queen with sumptuous Feast,
Did entertain this wandring guest.

And as in Hall at meat they sate,
the Queen desirous news to hear,
Of thy unhappy ten years Warrs
declare to me thou Trojan dear,
The heavy hap and chance so bad
That thou poore wandring Prince hast had.

And then anon this worthy Knight
with words demure as he could well,
Of his unhappy ten years Warrs
so true a tale began to tell.
With words so sweet, and sighs so deep,
That oft he made them all to weep.

And then a thousand sighs he fetcht,
and every sigh brought tears amain,
That where he sate the place was wet,
as if he had seen those wars again
So that the Queen with ruth therefore,
Said worthy P[r]ince enough no more.

The darksome night apace grew on,
and twinkling stars ith skys were spread,
And he his dolefull Tale had told,

as every one lay in his bed.
Where they full sweetly took their rest,
Save only Didos b[o]yling brest.

This silly woman never slept
but in her chamber all alone,
As one unhsppy always kept,
unto the walls she made her moan.
That she should still desire in vaine
The thing that she could not obtain.

And thus in grief she spent the night,
till twinkling starrs from skys were fled;
And Phoebus with his glistring beams
through misty clouds appeared red.
Then tydings came to her anon
That all the Trojan ships were gone;

And then the Queen with bloody knife,
did arm her heart as hard as stone,
Yet some-what loath to loose her life,
in wofull ease she made her moan.
And rowling on her carefull bed,
With sighs and sobs these words she said.

O wretched Dido Queen quoth she,
I see thy end approaching neer,
For he is gone away from thee,
whom thou didst love and hold so dear,
Is he then gone and passed by,
O heart prepare thy selfe to dye,

Though reason would thou shouldst forbear
to stop thy hand from bloody stroke,
Yet fancy said thou shouldst not fear,
who fettered thee in Cupids yoke,
Com death quoth she and end the smart,
And with those words she piercd her heart

WHen death had piercd the tender heart
of Dido, Carthaginian Queen,
And bloody knife did end the smart
which she sustaind in wofull teene,
AEnears being shipt and gone,
Whose flattery caused all her moan.

Her Funerall most costly made.
and all things finisht mournfully,
Her body fine in mold was laid,
where it consumed speedily,
Her Sisters tears her Tomb bestrewd,
Her Subjects grief his kindnesse shewd.

Then was AEneas in an Isle.
in Grecia where he livd long space,
Whereas her Sister in short while.
wrote to him to his foule disgrace,
In phrase of Letters to her mind,
She told him plain he was unkind.

False-hearted wretch quoth he thou art,
and Trayterously thou hast betrayd
Unto thy lure a gentle heart,
which unto thee such welcome made,
My Sister dear and Carthage joy.
Whose folly wrought her dire annoy.

Yet on her death-bed when she lay,
she prayd for thy prosperity,
Beseeching God that every day
might breed the great felicity,
Thus by thy meanes I lost a friend,
Heaven send thee such untimely end,

When he these lines full fraught with gall,
perused had and weigd them right,
His lofty courage then did fall,
and streight appeared in his sight
Queen Dido[]s Ghost both grim and pale,
Which made this valiant Souldier quail.

AEneas quoth this grisly Grst,
my whole delight while I did live,
Thee of all men I loved most,
my fancy and my will did give.
For entertainment I thee gave.
Unthankfully thou didgst my Grave,

Wherefore prepare thy fleeting Soule
to wander with me in the ayre
Where deadly grief shall make it howle,
because of me thou tookst no care.
Delay no time thy glasse is run,
Thy date is past and death is come,

O stay a while thou lovely spright,
be not so hasty to convey
My soul into eternall night,
where it shall nere behold bright day,
O do not frown, thy angry look
Hath made my breath my life forsooke,

But wo is me it is in vain,
and bootlesse is my dismall cry,
Time will not be recald again
nor thou surcease before I dye
O let me live to make amends
Unto some of my dearest friends,

But seeing thou obdurate art,
and wilt no pitty to me show.
Because from thee I did depart,
and left unpaid what I did owe,
I must content my selfe to take
What lot thou wilt with me partake,

And like one being in a Trance,
a multitude of ugly fiends,
About this wofull Prince did dance,
no help he had of any friends,
His body then they tooke away,
And no man knew his dying day,

printed for F. Coles, T. Vere and W. Gilbertson

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