%ISOlat1; %ISOlat2; %ISOnum; %ISOpub; ]> The Tombs in Westminster Abbey, As Sun / by Brother Popplewell in the manner of Chanting in a Cathedral. University of California - Santa Barbara The Early Modern Center Director Patricia Fumerton ?-? Early Modern Center, University of California Santa Barbara Santa Barbara, CA 04/27/2011 31173

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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

T51461 HERE lies William of Valence, a right good Earl of Pembroke, / And this is his monument which you see I'll swear upon a book, Roxburghe Ballads Editor None None None None Information in this section of the Source Description refers to the original ballad manuscript. 3: 476 The Tombs in Westminster Abbey, As Sun / by Brother Popplewell in the manner of Chanting in a Cathedral. The Tombs in Westminster Abbey, As Sung by Brother Popplewell in the manner of Chanting in a Cathedral. The Tombs in Westminster Abbey, As Sung by Brother Popplewell in the manner of Chanting in a Cathedral. ?-?

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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 4/27/2011 Santa Barbara, California, United States of America buildings/ architecture death nobility/ court royalty Ballads, English 17th century Broadsides, England 17th century 4/27/2011 3:13:39 PM XBallad Doss, MacKenzie Created XML Version of Ballad 4/27/2011 3:13:39 PM Transcription Supervisor McAbee, Kristina, Nebeker, Eric Transcription of ballad manuscript 4/27/2011 3:13:39 PM Double-Key Comparison and Merging Meyer, Shannon Transcription of ballad manuscript 4/27/2011 3:13:39 PM Transcriptionist Two Fadel, Meghan Transcription of ballad manuscript 4/27/2011 3:13:39 PM Transcriptionist One Foley, Christopher Transcription of ballad manuscript 1/23/2009 Bibliographer Meghan Fadel Initial Ballad Catalogue Record Created 1/18/2011 Checker Grafals Michael Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 1/18/2011 Checker Grafals Michael Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 1/18/2011 Checker Grafals Michael Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 1/18/2011 Checker Grafals Michael Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 1/18/2011 Checker Grafals Michael Edited Ballad Catalogue Record
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HERE lies William of Valence, a right good Earl of Pembroke, And this is his monument which you see Ill swear upon a book, He was earl marshall of England, when Henry the third did reign, About five hundred years a-go, but never will be so again, Here the Lord Talbot lies, the Town of Shrewsburys earl Together with his countess fair who was a-most delicate girl Next to him there lieth one Sir Richard Peckshall hight, Of whom we only this do say that he was a Hampshire Knight Here lies the third King Edwards brother, of whom our records tell, Nothing of note, nor say they whether he be in Heaven or Hell; This same was John of Elderstone, he was no Costermonger But Cornwalls Earl; and heres one died because he could live no longer. Now think your penny well spent good folks and that youre not beguild, Within this cup doth lie the heart, of a French Ambassadors child, But how the Devl it came to pass, on purpose or by chance The bowels they lie underneath, but the body is in France. Here lies Oxford countess, and there also the Lady Burleigh her mother, And there her Daughter a countess too, lie close by one another; These once were bonny dames, and though there were no coaches then, Yet coud they jog their tails themselves, or get them joggd by the men. Oh! who is me those high born sinners, that now do pray so stoutly, Living they never prayd at all, yet their statues pray devoutly; This fair monument which you see, Id have you to under- stand, It is of a virtuous lady fair who died of a prick in her hand. In this fair monument which you see, adorned with so many pillars, Doth lie the countess of Buckingham, and her husband Sir George Villiers; This old Sir George was Grandfather, and the Countess she was Granny, To the great Duke of Buckingham, who led by the nose King Jamy. Here lies Sir Robert Eatam a Scootish Knight, this man was secretary, He scribbled compliments for two Queens, Queen Ann and Queen Mary: This same was Mary Queen of Scots, whom Buchanan doth so bespatter, She lost her head at Fotheingay, whatever was the matter. Henry the seventh lies here entombd with his fair Queen beside him, He was the founder of this Chapel, Oh! may no ill betide him And here they stand upright in a press, with their bodies made of wax, A globe and a wand in either hand, and their robes upon their backs. To another Chapel now come we, the people follow and chat This is the Lady Cottington, the people cry whos that; Why Sir Thomas Bromley lieth here, Death woud not him reprieve, With his four sons, and daughters four, that once were all alive. Here lies Sir John Fullerton and that is his Lady I trow, And that is Sir John Pickering whom none of you did know, Here lies the earl of Torrington, the world neer saw a madder, His Countess fair she lies beside him, and now you go up a ladder, Richard the second lies here entombd, with his fair Queen, Queen Ann, Edward the third lies here hard by, and he was a gallant Man; This is the sword of John of Gaunt, a blade both true and trusty: The Frenchmans blood was neer wiped off which makes it look so rusty. Harry the fifth lies here entombd with his fair Queen, Queen Eleanor, To our fifth Edward she was wife thats more than you knew before Now down the ladder come we again, the man goes first with a staff, Two or three tumble down the stairs, and all the people laugh. Sir Robert Vere lies here entombd, who the Spaniards hide so curried, Four colonels brave support his tomb, and here his bodies buried; That statue up against the wall with one eye, is Major General Nor[r]is, He bangd the French most cruelly, as affirmd in stories. Here lies Sir John Holles, who was a Major General, To Sir John Morris that brave blade, and now you may depart all, For now the show is at an end, all things are done and said, The Citizens pay for their Wives, and the Apprentices kiss the Maids.