%ISOlat1; %ISOlat2; %ISOnum; %ISOpub; ]> An Excellent OLD BALLAD, entitled, / The Wandering PRINCE of TROY. University of California - Santa Barbara The Early Modern Center Director Patricia Fumerton 1763-1763 Early Modern Center, University of California Santa Barbara Santa Barbara, CA 05/04/2011 31445

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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

T33747 WHEN Troy town had for ten years wars, / Withstood the Greeks in manful wise, Roxburghe Ballads Editor None None None None Information in this section of the Source Description refers to the original ballad manuscript. 3: 730 3: 731 An Excellent OLD BALLAD, entitled, / The Wandering PRINCE of TROY. An Excellent OLD BALLAD, entitled, The Wandering PRINCE of TROY An Excellent OLD BALLAD, entitled, The Wandering PRINCE of TROY 1763-1763

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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 5/4/2011 Santa Barbara, California, United States of America death love military/ war mythology/ Classical supernatural/ magic Ballads, English 17th century Broadsides, England 17th century 5/4/2011 10:56:36 AM XBallad Doss, MacKenzie Created XML Version of Ballad 5/4/2011 10:56:36 AM Transcription Supervisor McAbee, Kristina, Nebeker, Eric Transcription of ballad manuscript 5/4/2011 10:56:36 AM Double-Key Comparison and Merging Meyer, Shannon Transcription of ballad manuscript 5/4/2011 10:56:36 AM Transcriptionist Two Megna, Paul Transcription of ballad manuscript 5/4/2011 10:56:36 AM Transcriptionist One Foley, Christopher Transcription of ballad manuscript 4/25/2011 Checker Bethany Wong Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 4/25/2011 Checker Bethany Wong Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 2/3/2009 Bibliographer Meghan Fadel Initial Ballad Catalogue Record Created 11/29/2010 Checker Sue Hong Edited Ballad Catalogue Record
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WHEN Troy town had for ten years wars, Withstood the Greeks in manful wise, Then did their foes encrease so fast, That to resist none could suffice; Waste lie those walls that are so good, And corn now grows where Troy town stood. Eneas, wandering Prince of Troy, When he for land long time had sought, At length arriving with great joy, To mighty Carthage walls was brought, Where Dido, Queen with sumptuous feast, Did entertain her wandering guest. And as in hall at meat they sat, The Queen desires now to hear, Of thy unhappy ten years wars, Declare to me thou Trojan dear; Thine heavy hand and change so bad, Which thou poor wandering prince hast had. And then anon this worthy Prince, With words demure, as he could well, Of his unhappy ten years wars, So sure a tale began to tell: The Carthage Queen with sighs so deep, On hearing him did nought but weep.
And then a thousand sighs he fetchd, And every sigh brought tears amain, That where he sat the place was wet, As if hed seen these wars again: So that the Queen with truth therefore, Said, Worthy Prince, enough, no more. The darksome night drew on a -pace, And twinkling stars from skies were fled, And he his doleful tale had told, And every one lay in his bed; Where he full sweetly took their rest, Save only Didos boiling breast. This silly woman never slept, But in her chamber all alone, As one unhappy always kept; Unto the walls she made her moan. That she should so desire in vain The thing that she could not obtain. And thus in grief she spent the night, Till twinkling stars from skies were fled, And Phebus with his glimmering beams, Thro misty clouds appeared red, Then tidings came to her anon, That all the Trojan ships were gone.
And then the Queen with bloody knife, Aimd at her heart as hard as stone; Yet somewhat loath to lose her life, Unto herself did make great moan; And rolling on her careful bed, With sighs and sobs these words she said. O wretched Dido Queen, quoth she, I see thy end approaching near; For he is gone away from thee. Whom thou dost love and hold so dear! Is he then gone and passed by? O heart, prepare thyself to die. Tho reason would thou should forbear, And stop thy hand from bloody stroke; Yet fancy says, thou wouldst not spare Who fetters thee in Cupids yoke. Come death, said she, and end the smart, And with these 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 woeful teen. Eneas being shipd and gone, Whose flattry caused all her moan. Her funeral most costly made, And all things finishd mournfully, Her body in the ground was laid, Where it consumed speedily. Her sisters tears her tomb bedewd, Her subjects grief their kindness shewd. Then was Eneas in an isle In Greece, where he lived a long space; Whereas his sister in a short time Wrote to him to his souls disgrace, In phrase of letter to her mind, She told him plainly he was unkind. False-hearted wretch, quoth she, thou art, And treacherously thou hast betrayd Unto thyself 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 as she lay, She prayd for thy prosperity, Beseeching God that every day, Might breed thee great felicity; Thus by thy means I lost a friend; Heaven send thee an untimely end.
When he these lines, full fraught with gall Perusd and weighd them aright, His lofty courage then did fall, And strait appeared in his sight Queen Didos ghost, both grim and pale, Which made this lofty soldier quail. Eneas, quoth this gris[s]ly ghost, My whole delight whilst I did live, Three of all men I loved most, My fancy and my will did give. For the entertainment I thee gave, Unthankfully thou digst my grave. Therefore prepare thy fleeting soul To wander with me in the air, Where deadly grief shall make it howl, Because of me thou tookst no care: Delay no time thy glass is run, For life is gone and aeath is come. O stay awhile thou lovely spright, Be not so ready to convey My soul into eternal night, Where it shail neer behold the day. O do not frown! thy angry look Hath made my breath my life forsake. But woe is me! it is in vain, And bootless is my cry; Time will not be recalld again, Nor you surcease before I die. O let me live to make amends, Unto some of my dearest friends. But seeing thou obdurate art And wilt no pity to me show, Because I did from thee depart, And left unpaid what I did owe: I must content myself to take, What lot thou wilt with me partake. And like one being a trance, A multitude of ugly fiends About this woeful prince did dance, No help had he of any friends. His body then they took away, And no man knew his dying-day.
Printed and Sold in Aldermary Church Yvrd, Bow Lane, London.