%ISOlat1; %ISOlat2; %ISOnum; %ISOpub; ]> A Lamentable Ballad of a Combate lately perfor- / med neer London, between Sir James Steward, and Sir George Wharton Knights: / who were both slain at that time. University of California - Santa Barbara The Early Modern Center Director Patricia Fumerton 1663-1663 Early Modern Center, University of California Santa Barbara Santa Barbara, CA 03/05/2012 31950

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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

R233240 IT grieves my heart to tell the woe, / neer London late befall. YOung wharton was the first that came, / to the appointed place the next day Information in this section of the Source Description refers to the original ballad manuscript. 1: 194 A Lamentable Ballad of a Combate lately perfor- / med neer London, between Sir James Steward, and Sir George Wharton Knights: / who were both slain at that time. A Lamentable Ballad of a Combate lately perfor- med neer London, between Sir James Steward, and Sir George Wharton Knights: who were both slain at that time. A Lamentable Ballad of a Combat lately performed near London, between Sir James Steward, and Sir George Wharton Knights: who were both slain at that time. 1663-1663 F. Coles, T. Vere, and J. Wright

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<seg n="1" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">A Lamentable Ballad of a Combate lately perfor-</hi></seg> <seg n="2" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">med neer <hi rend="bold">London</hi>, between Sir <hi rend="bold">James Steward</hi>, and Sir <hi rend="bold">George Wharton</hi> Knights:</hi></seg> <seg n="3" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">who were both slain at that time. </hi></seg> <lb/> <seg n="4" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">Tune is, <hi rend="bold">Down Plumpton Park, etc.</hi></hi></seg>
IT grieves my heart to tell the woe, neer London late befall. On Martlemas Eve, O woe is me, I grieve the chance and ever shall: Of two right gallant Gentlemen, who very rashly fell at words, But to their quarrel could not fall, till they fell both by their keen swords. The one was Sir George Wharton cald, the good Lord Whartons Son and Heir, The other Sir James a Scottish Knight, a man that a valiant heart did bear: Neer to the Court these Gallants stout, fell out as they in gaming were; And in their fury grew so hot, they hardly could from blows forbear. Nay, kind intreaties could not stay, Sir James from striking in that place, For in the height and heat of blood he struck young Wharton ore the face: What dost thou mean, said Wharton then, to strike in such unmanly sort, That I will take it at thy hand, the tongue of man shall ner Report. Why, do thy worst then said Sir James, and mark me Wharton what I say; Theres ner a Lord in England breaths, shall make me give an inch of way.
This brags too brave, stout Wharton said, let our large English Lords alone, And talk with me that am your foe, for thou shalt find enough of one. Alas Sir! said the Scottish Knight, thy blood and minds too base for me, Thy oppositions be too bold and will thy dire destruction be: Nay, said young Wharton you mistake, my courage and valour equals thine, To makt apparent, cast thy Glove, to gage to try as I do mine. I said Sir James hast thou such spirit, I did not think within thy breast, That such a haughty daring heart as thou makst shew of ere could Rest. I enterchange my Glove with thee, take it and point thy bed of death, The field I mean where we must fight, and one for both lose life and breath. Wel meet neer whaltham, said sir George to morrow that shall be the day, Wel either take a single man, and try who bears the bell away. This done, together hands they shook, and without any envious sign, They went to Ludgate, where they staid, and drank each man his pint of wine.
NO kind of anger could be seen, no words of malice might bewray But all was fair, as calm, as cool, as Love within their bosome lay: Till parting time, and then indeed, they shewd some rancor of their heart: George, said sir James, when next we meet so sound I know we shall not part. And so they parted both Resolvd to have their Valor fully t[r]yd: The second part shall briefly show both how they met, and how they dyd.
<seg n="1" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">The second Part, to the </hi></seg> <seg n="2" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">same Tune</hi>.</seg>
YOung wharton was the first that came, to the appointed place the next day Who presently spid Sir James comming as fast as he could post away: And being met in manly sort, the Scottish Knight did to Wharton say I do not like thy doublet George, it sits so clear on thee today. Hast thou no privy Armour on, nor yet no privy coat of steel, I ner saw Lord in all my Life, become a doublet half so well. Now nay, now nay, stout Wharton said, Sir James Steward that may not be, Ile not an armed man come hither, and thou a naked man truly. Our men shall strip our doublets George, so shall we know whether of us Lye: And then wel to our weapons sharp, ourselves true Gallants for to try: Then they stript off their doublets fair, standing up in their shirts of Lawn, Follow my counsel the Scotchman said, and wharton to thee ile make known. Now follow my counsel, ile follow thine, and wel fight in our shirts (said he) Now nay, now nay, young Wharton said Sir James Steward that may not be,
Unless we were drunkards and quarrellers that had no care of our sell, Nor caring what we go about, or whether our souls go to heaven or hel. Wel first to God bequeath our souls, then next our Corps to dust and clay, With that stout Wharton was the first, took Rapier and Poniard there that day. Seven thrusts in turns these gallants had before one drop of blood was drawn: The Scottish Knight then speak valiantly stout Wharton still thou holdst thy own. With the next thrust that Wharton thrust he ran him through the shoulder bone: The next was through the thick oth thigh thinking he had the Scotch Kt. slain. Then wharton said to the Scottish Knight are you a living man? tell me, If there be a Surgeon in England can, he shall cure your wounds right speedily. Now nay, now nay, the Scotch Knight said, Sir George wharton that may not be, The one of us shall the other kill, ere off this ground that we do flie: Then in a maze Sir George lookt back, to see what company was nigh; They both had dangerous marks of death, yet neither would from other flie. But both through body wounded sore, with courage lusty strong and sound: They made a deadly desperate close, and both fe[l]l dead unto the ground. Our English Knight was first that fell, the Scottish Knight fell immediately, Who cryed both to Jesus Christ, receive our souls, O Lord we die. God bless our Noble King and Queen, and all the Noble Progeny: That Brittain all may live in one, in perfect love and unity. Thus to conclude I make an end, wishing that quarrels still may cease: And that we still may live in love, in prosperous state, in joy and peace.
FINIS. London, Printed for F. Coles, T. Vere, and J. Wright.