%ISOlat1; %ISOlat2; %ISOnum; %ISOpub; ]> The Love-Sick Maid: Or, Cordelias lamentation for the / absence of her Gerhard. University of California - Santa Barbara The Early Modern Center Director Patricia Fumerton 1686-1686 Early Modern Center, University of California Santa Barbara Santa Barbara, CA 03/13/2012 31926

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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

R227258 1 To a Pleasant New Tune Gerard's Mistress To a Pleasant New Tune BE gone / Thou fatal fiery Feavor, now be gone, Come on / thou fatal messenger from her that's gone Information in this section of the Source Description refers to the original ballad manuscript. 1: 171 The Love-Sick Maid: Or, Cordelias lamentation for the / absence of her Gerhard. The Love-Sick Maid: Or, Cordelias lamentation for the absence of her Gerhard. The Love-Sick Maid: Or, Cordelia's lamentation for the absence of her Gerhard. Printer A.M. 1686-1686 A.M.

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 Early Modern Center Ballad Project Keyword Taxonomy advice affliction/ health alcohol Americas 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 groups royalty rural life servitude sex/ sexuality supernatural/ magic travel trickery/ deceit urban life vice violence virtue vulgar humor youth/ age Library of Congress Subject Heading Taxonomy 3/13/2012 Santa Barbara, California, United States of America affliction/ health clothing/ appearance death love Ballads, English 17th century Broadsides, England 17th century 3/13/2012 2:19:34 PM XBallad Halsey, Nicholas Created XML Version of Ballad 3/13/2012 2:19:34 PM Transcription Supervisor Murphy, Jessica Transcription of ballad manuscript 3/13/2012 2:19:34 PM Double-Key Comparison and Merging Reese, Ryan Transcription of ballad manuscript 3/13/2012 2:19:34 PM Transcriptionist Two Kazzi, Sara Transcription of ballad manuscript 3/13/2012 2:19:34 PM Transcriptionist One Andrews, B. Sharkey Transcription of ballad manuscript 4/2/2011 Checker Bethany Wong Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 4/2/2011 Checker Bethany Wong Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 3/7/2011 Checker Dominique Moomaw Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 3/5/2012 Transcriber Andrews, B. Sharkey Created Ballad XML 3/5/2012 Transcriber Kazzi, Sara Created Ballad XML 3/5/2012 Double-Key Transcription Merger Reese, Ryan Created Ballad XML 3/5/2012 Transcription Supervisor Murphy, Jessica Created Ballad XML 3/5/2012 XBallad Becker, Charlotte Created Ballad XML 3/29/2011 Checker Shannon Meyer Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 3/29/2011 Checker Shannon Meyer Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 3/1/2012 Transcriber Andrews, B. Sharkey Created Ballad XML 3/1/2012 Transcriber Kazzi, Sara Created Ballad XML 3/1/2012 Double-Key Transcription Merger Reese, Ryan Created Ballad XML 3/1/2012 Transcription Supervisor Murphy, Jessica Created Ballad XML 3/1/2012 XBallad Martino, Alexandra Created Ballad XML 2/15/2011 Bibliographer Shannon Meyer Initial Ballad Catalogue Record Created
<seg n="1" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">The Love-Sick Maid: Or, <hi rend="bold">Cordelias</hi> lamentation for the</hi></seg> <seg n="2" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">absence of her <hi rend="bold">Gerhard</hi>. To a Pleasant New Tune.</hi></seg>
BE gone Thou fatal fiery feavor, now be gone let Love alone, Let his Etherial flames posses my b[r]east, His fires, From thy consuming heat no aid requires, for swift desires, Transports my passion to a throne of rest; Where I, Who in the pride of health, did never feel such warmth to move; By sickness tam[d] am so inflamd, I know no joys but love. And he That trifled many tedious hours away, my love to try, In little space had gaind the grace, to have more power than I. Depart Thou scorching fury, quick from me depart, think not my heart, To thy dull flame shall be a sacrifice; A Maid Dread Cupid now is on thy Altar laid, by thee betrayd, A Rich oblation to restore thine eyes: But yet My fair acknowledgement will prove thou hast no c[r]aft, To bend thy Bow against thy foe, that aimd to catch the shaft: [F]or if [T]hat at my breast thy arrows thou all at once let flie, [Sh]e that receives a thousand sheaves, [can] do no more but dye.
No more You learnd physicianslearnd physitians, tire your brains no more pray give me ore, Mine is a cure, in Physick never read; Although You skillful Doctors all the world doth know, pray let me go. You may as well make practice on the Dead. But if My Gerrard dain to view me with the glory of his looks, I make no doubt to live without Physitians and their books. Tis he That with his balmed Kisses can restore my latest breath; What bliss is this, to gain a Kiss can save a maid from death? To you That tell me of another world, I bow, and will allow Your Sacred Precepts, if youll grant me this, That he Whom I esteem of next the Deity, may go with me, Without whose presence there can be no bliss, Go teach Your tenets of eternity, to those that aged be, And not perswade a lovesick maid, theres any heaven but he. But stay Methinks an icy slumber hath possest my frency brain; Pray bid him dye if you see I shall never wake again.
<seg n="1" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">[The Young-Mans Answer: Or,] his Dying <hi rend="bold">B</hi>reath,</hi></seg> <seg n="2" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">Lamenting for his fair <hi rend="bold">Cordelias</hi> Death.</hi></seg> <seg n="3" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">To a Delightful New Tune.</hi></seg>
Come on thou fat[a]l messenger from her thats gone lest I alone Within that quenchless flame for ever fry; The Lake Of love being kindled, wherein nonecan take rest, but wake, Where slumber hath no power to close the eye; Whilst I That by my fair Cordelia desire to take a sleep, With lids wide spread upon my bed am forcd a watch to keep: And she That waited many tedious hours, my constancy to try, Is now at rest, while I opprest, fain would but cannot dye. Dispatch Thou scorching fury, quickly now dispatch, by Death I watch. To be releast from this tormenting flame; The Dart Sent from dread Cupid, sticks fast in my heart, I wanting art, Had not the power for to resist the same Though she Who by her late acknowledgment, profest thou hadst no craft, Yet from thy bow thou madst her know what power lay in the shaft: Put then Thou sentst another arrow which me of hopes berest, Most like a foe to wound me so, for whom no cure is left.
Wherefore Did you Physitians give my mistress ore [?] had you no more Experience, but what you in books have read? Or why (You learned Doctors) did you cease to try your skills, when I Might have revivd her if shed not been dead? And yet Suppose that I in Person had present been to view her; Is there such grace in any face to work so great a cure? But now Im come too late to kiss her, which were it not in vain, After her death Id spend my breath to fetch her back again. Unto The fair Elizium thither will I go, whereas I know She is amongst those sacred ones preferd Then I Shall be admitted for to come so nigh, pardon ill cry For my long absence, wherein I have errd: And since By her I was esteemd so much on earth being hers, Hence for her sake no rest Ill take, till I have found her there. No more, But only I desire to hear my passing bell; That Virgins may lament the day of Gerhards last farewel.
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