%ISOlat1; %ISOlat2; %ISOnum; %ISOpub; ]> A / DIALOGUE / BETWEEN / Duke LAUDERDALE, / AND THE / LORD DANBY. University of California - Santa Barbara The Early Modern Center Director Patricia Fumerton ?-? Early Modern Center, University of California Santa Barbara Santa Barbara, CA 05/06/2011 31410

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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

R25370 GReat Sir, I cannot but congratulate / The just Submission of your stubborn Fate; Roxburghe Ballads Editor None None None None Information in this section of the Source Description refers to the original ballad manuscript. 3: 827 A / DIALOGUE / BETWEEN / Duke LAUDERDALE, / AND THE / LORD DANBY. A DIALOGUE BETWEEN Duke LAUDERDALE, AND THE LORD DANBY. A DIALOGUE BETWEEN Duke LAUDERDALE, AND THE LORD DANBY. ?-?

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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 5/6/2011 Santa Barbara, California, United States of America country/ nation politics/ government punishment Ballads, English 17th century Broadsides, England 17th century 5/6/2011 11:24:44 AM XBallad Doss, MacKenzie Created XML Version of Ballad 5/6/2011 11:24:44 AM Transcription Supervisor McAbee, Kristina, Nebeker, Eric Transcription of ballad manuscript 5/6/2011 11:24:44 AM Double-Key Comparison and Merging Batchelor, Gordon Transcription of ballad manuscript 5/6/2011 11:24:44 AM Transcriptionist Two Meyer, Shannon Transcription of ballad manuscript 5/6/2011 11:24:44 AM Transcriptionist One Megna, Paul Transcription of ballad manuscript 2/3/2009 Bibliographer Shannon Meyer Initial Ballad Catalogue Record Created 2/14/2011 Checker Grafals Michael Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 12/6/2010 Checker Shannon Meyer Edited Ballad Catalogue Record
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D. GReat Sir, I cannot but congratulate The just Submission of your stubborn Fate; Which to your Honour hath a Tyrant been: But now she sees her Folly and her Sin. Still may she prove most constant unto you, And always pay what to your Grace is due. L. Dear Sir, for nought can I commend my Fate, But that sheth made me happy in a Mate. And such Ill prove, even in Extremity, Since we are Brothers in Iniquity. D. My Lord, you very much mistake the Word. We were so once: to that I do accord. But now our Pardons for our sins are Seald, I think the Guilt is justly then Repeald. Though we were coverd oer with Clouds of Sin, Theyre vanishd now, and all our fears therein. Now dare we our Protection claim as Right Of Charles our King; who surely will, in spite Of all our Foes, resolve to set us free; Nor will he lose that Right of Majesty, His Royal Word is past, we need not doubt; His Honour will take care to make it out. L. Right Tom; and, by my Soul, Ill never fear Before thinsulting Commons to appear, And let them but affront me if they dare. For all their humming noise, Ill make them know, Ill sit above when they shant sit below. There will I still with Courage vindicate Thy Honour, and subvert the unjust Hate Of all thy Foes: nor shall they dare pretend To say thou art not King and Countrys Friend. D. Pox on them; Let them go for a damd Crew, Whilst we with Craft their Ruine do pursue. Let them vote on, and we will still devise To make them all a burning Sacrifice To him, gainst whom theyve made so many Lyes. My drooping Soul transported is to think, When he doth rise, how all these Rogues will sink. With Vengeance well pursue them in Retreat: Well hash them quick, and let our Dogs them eat. For
For Hereticks well damn them whilst alive; And then to Hell in Flocks we will them drive. L. Thy Courage bold I cannot but commend, For sure hes both our worthy Duke and Friend. Lets not despair, but briskly carry on The Glorious Work we have so well begun. Lets then once more our Treasons all repeat, And leave the Lovely Dutchess then to treat For new Pardons; to whom we need not fear, The King will lend a gracious heart and ear. Thou knowst how much she is obligd to thee, Nor do I doubt but she our Friend will be. D. Thy Counsel bravely elevates my Soul: Well practice Treason still without Controul. But that His Majesty shall neer believe; Or if he do, he quickly shall forgive: My Duchess shall so all his Senses charm, He never shall believe well do him harm. L. By my Soul, Man, shes a most powerful Spell; Wert not for her, wed surely been in Hell. She is the strongest Pillar of our Hope; The surest Friend to our brave Plot and Pope. She is all Power, she is all Command: By her Assistance well betray this Land, D. Much Honour to her Goddesship is due; But Id savd her Labour, Sir, and you, Had my Army, filld with lusty Fellows, Not yet been disbanded by the Jealous And mistrustful Parliament, Pox on em: Presumptious Fops, to take that Act upon em. But let that pass; eer long theyll surely find, Theyd better been more Loyal and more Kind. L. Savd me the Labour, Sir? What do you mean? I never grutchd my Labour or my Pain. You know I had ten thousand Men at Call, To joyn with you to work these Nations Fall. If you compare our Actions in this Plot, Youll find I come not short of you one Jot. Whats all the noise the Rebels made of late In Scotland? Did not I it all create? Was it not on my Counsel first resolved, The Old New Parliament should be dissolved? Or we had both in Ruine been involved? D. My Lord, all this and more I do allow, And do my Faith to my Experience owe. I neer meant to detract from your Just Fame; But to my death Ill still maintain the same, You are a drudging Rebel; and, by Jove, Ill neer forsake you while I stand or move. But now, My Lord, I feel my self not well; I therefore kiss your hand, and bid farewell.
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