%ISOlat1; %ISOlat2; %ISOnum; %ISOpub; ]> THE / Great MESSENGER of MORTALITY; / Or, a DIALOGUE betwixt / DEATH and a beautiful LADY. / From whence it appears that Death is no Respecter of Persons either for Birth or / Beauty; so that as sure as we are born, we shall certainly die: Therefore let us prepare / ourselves against that Hour and Time, that he may appear as a welcome Messenger, / that brings glad Tidings. University of California - Santa Barbara The Early Modern Center Director Patricia Fumerton 1730-1730 Early Modern Center, University of California Santa Barbara Santa Barbara, CA 05/04/2011 31139

The University of California makes a claim of copyright only to original contributions made by Early Modern Center participants and other members of the university community. The University of California makes no claim of copyright to the original text. Permission is granted to download, transmit or otherwise reproduce, distribute or display the contributions to this work claimed by The University of California for non-profit educational purposes, provided that this header is included in its entirety. For inquiries about commercial uses, please contact:

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

T142788 3 UNKNOWN UNKNOWN Farewel my Heart's Delight Fortune my Foe Farewell My Heart's Delight FAIR Lady, lay your costly Robes aside, / No longer may you glory in your Pride; Roxburghe Ballads Editor None None None None Information in this section of the Source Description refers to the original ballad manuscript. 3: 442 3: 443 THE / Great MESSENGER of MORTALITY; / Or, a DIALOGUE betwixt / DEATH and a beautiful LADY. / From whence it appears that Death is no Respecter of Persons either for Birth or / Beauty; so that as sure as we are born, we shall certainly die: Therefore let us prepare / ourselves against that Hour and Time, that he may appear as a welcome Messenger, / that brings glad Tidings. THE Great MESSENGER of MORTALITY; Or, a DIALOGUE betwixt DEATH and a beautiful LADY. From whence it appears that Death is no Respecter of Persons either for Birth or Beauty; so that as sure as we are born, we shall certainly die: Therefore let us prepare ourselves against that Hour and Time, that he may appear as a welcome Messenger, that brings glad Tidings. THE Great MESSENGER of MORTALITY; Or, a DIALOGUE between DEATH and a beautiful LADY. From where it appears that Death is no Respecter of Persons either for Birth or Beauty; so that as sure as we are born, we shall certainly die: Therefore let us prepare ourselves against that Hour and Time, that he may appear as a welcome Messenger, that brings glad Tidings. Printer JOHN WHITE 1730-1730

This document follows the guidelines specified for TEI.

XML Generated Automatically at 5/4/2011 2:38:37 PM Using EMC

XBallad Parsing Engine developed by Carl Stahmer.

TEI Template developed by Gerald Egan and Modified by Carl Stahmer

All apostrophes are encoded as '.

Any dashs occurring in line breaks have been removed;

All dashs are encoded as ‐ and all em dashes as —.

 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 5/4/2011 Santa Barbara, California, United States of America class death religious concepts supernatural/ magic youth/ age Ballads, English 17th century Broadsides, England 17th century 5/4/2011 2:38:37 PM XBallad Mellon, Gillian Created XML Version of Ballad 5/4/2011 2:38:37 PM Transcription Supervisor McAbee, Kristina, Nebeker, Eric Transcription of ballad manuscript 5/4/2011 2:38:37 PM Double-Key Comparison and Merging Becker, Charlotte Transcription of ballad manuscript 5/4/2011 2:38:37 PM Transcriptionist Two Meyer, Shannon Transcription of ballad manuscript 5/4/2011 2:38:37 PM Transcriptionist One Zusky, Catherine Transcription of ballad manuscript 1/21/2009 Bibliographer Meghan Fadel Initial Ballad Catalogue Record Created 1/15/2011 Checker Grafals Michael Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 1/13/2011 Checker Grafals Michael Edited Ballad Catalogue Record
<seg n="1" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">THE</hi></seg> <seg n="2" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">Great MESSENGER of MORTALITY;</hi></seg> <seg n="3" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">Or, a DIALOGUE betwixt</hi></seg> <seg n="4" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">DEATH and a beautiful LADY.</hi></seg> <seg n="5" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">From whence it appears that Death is no Respecter of Persons either for Birth or</hi></seg> <seg n="6" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">Beauty; so that as sure as we are born, we shall certainly die: Therefore let us prepare</hi></seg> <seg n="7" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">ourselves against that Hour and Time, that he may appear as a welcome Messenger,</hi></seg> <seg n="8" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">that brings glad Tidings.</hi></seg> <lb/> <seg n="9" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">Tune of, <hi rend="bold">Farewel my Hearts Delight.</hi></hi></seg>
DEATH. FAIR Lady, lay your costly Robes aside, No longer may you glory in your Pride; Take leave of all your carnal vain Delight, For I come to summon you away this Night. LADY. What bold Attempt is this? Pray let me know, From whence you come and whether must I go? Shall I who am a Lady, yield or bow To such a pale facd Visage; who art thou?
DEATH. Do you not know me? Well, Ill tell you then, Tis I that conquers all the Sons of Men; No Pitch of Honour from my Dart is free, My Name is Death, have you not heard of me? LADY. Yes, I have heard of thee Time after Time, But being in the Glory of my Prime, I did not think thou wouldst have calld so soon, Why must my Morning Sun be turnd to Noon?
DEATH. Talk not of Noon thou mayst as well be mute This is no Time at all for to dispute; Your richest Jewels, Gold, and Garments brave, Your Houses, Lands, they must new Masters have: Tho thy vain Heart to Riches was inclind, Yet thou alas! must leave it all behind. LADY. My Heart is cold, I tremble at the News, Heres Bags of Gold if thou wilt me excuse, And seize on those, thus finish thou the Strife, With such who are now weary of their Life. Are there not many bound in Prison strong, In bitter Grief of Soul have languishd long, And fain would find a Grave, a Place of Rest, From all their Griefs, in which they are opprest; Besides theres many with their hoary Heads, And Palsy Joints, by which their Joys are fled; Release thou them whose Grief and Sorrows great, And spare my Life to have a longer Date. DEATH. Tho they with Age are full of Grief and Pain; Till their appointed Time they must remain. I come to none before my Warrants seald, And when it is, they must submit and yield: I take no Bribe, believe me it is true, Prepare yourself to go, I come for you. LADY. Death, be not so severe, let me obtain A little longer Time to live and reign; Fain would I stay, if thou my Life would spare; I have a Daughter beautiful and fair; Id live to see her wed, whom I adore, Grant me but this, and then I ask no more. DEATH. This is a slender, frivolous Excuse, I have you fast, and will not let you loose; Leave her to Providence, for you must go Along with me, whether you will or no. I Death command great Kings to leave their Crown, And at my Foot they lay their Scepters down: If not to Kings I will this Favour give, But cut them down, can you expect to live
Beyond the Limits of your Time and Space? No, I must send you to another Pl[ace.] LADY. You learned Doctors now display your Skill, And let not Death of me ob[ta]ain [h]i[s] W[ill.] Prepare your Cordials, let me Comfort fi[nd] My Gold shall fly like Chaff before the Wind. DEATH. Forbear to call, their Skill will never do, They are but Mortals here as well as you; I give the fatal Wound, my Dart is sure, Tis far beyond a Doctors Skill to cure. To purchase Life, rather than yield to die, How freely would you let your Silver fly, But while you flourishd here all in your Store, You could not spare one Penny to the Poor. In all your Pomp the Poor then you did hate, And like rich Dives scourgd them from your Gate; But tho you did, those whom you thus did scorn, They like yourself into this World was born: Tho for your Alms they did both cringe and bow, They bore Gods Image here as well as you; Tho in his Name a Suit to you theyd make, You would not give one Penny for his Sake; My Lord beheld wherein you did amiss, And calls you hence to give Account for this. LADY. O heavy News! must I no longer stay? How shall stand, good God, at that great Day! Down from her Eyes her dying Tears did flow, And said, Theres none knows what I undergo: Upon a Bed of Sorrow here I lie, My carnal Life makes me afraid to die, My Sins alas! are many, gross, and foul, But Heaven still have Mercy on my Soul; And tho I do deserve thy righteous Frown, Yet, pardon Lord, and pour a Blessing down. Then with a dying Sigh her Heart did break, And did the Pleasures of the World forsake. Here you may see the high and mighty fall, For Death he sheweth no Respect at all, To any one, of high or low Degree, Great Men submit to Death as well as we; Tho they are gay, their Lives are but a Span, A Lump of Clay, so poor a Creatures Man
Newcastle upon Tyne: Printed and sold by JOHN WHITE.