%ISOlat1; %ISOlat2; %ISOnum; %ISOpub; ]> A lamentable Ballad of a Combat lately performed neere London, / betwixt Sir Iames Steward, and Sir George Wharton Knights, who were / both slaine at that time. University of California - Santa Barbara The Early Modern Center Director Patricia Fumerton 1624-1624 Early Modern Center, University of California Santa Barbara Santa Barbara, CA 03/05/2012 31951

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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

R179930 IT grieves me for to tell the woe, / neere London late that did befall, YOng Wharton was the first that came, / to the pointed place on the next day, Information in this section of the Source Description refers to the original ballad manuscript. 1: 195 A lamentable Ballad of a Combat lately performed neere London, / betwixt Sir Iames Steward, and Sir George Wharton Knights, who were / both slaine at that time. A lamentable Ballad of a Combat lately performed neere London, betwixt Sir Iames Steward, and Sir George Wharton Knights, who were both slaine at that time. A lamentable Ballad of a Combat lately performed near London, betwixt Sir James Steward, and Sir George Wharton Knights, who were both slain at that time. 1624-1624 F.C.

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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 3/5/2012 Santa Barbara, California, United States of America advice country/ nation death nobility/ court race/ ethnicity violence Ballads, English 17th century Broadsides, England 17th century 3/5/2012 5:33:32 PM XBallad Campbell, Katharine Created XML Version of Ballad 3/5/2012 5:33:32 PM Transcription Supervisor Murphy, Jessica Transcription of ballad manuscript 3/5/2012 5:33:32 PM Double-Key Comparison and Merging Kazzi, Sara Transcription of ballad manuscript 3/5/2012 5:33:32 PM Transcriptionist Two Andrews, B. Sharkey Transcription of ballad manuscript 3/5/2012 5:33:32 PM Transcriptionist One Reese, Ryan Transcription of ballad manuscript 3/8/2011 Checker Maria Baruxis Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 3/31/2011 Checker Shannon Meyer Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 3/31/2011 Checker Shannon Meyer Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 2/15/2011 Bibliographer Shannon Meyer Initial Ballad Catalogue Record Created
<seg n="1" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">A lamentable Ballad of a Combat lately performed neere London, </hi></seg> <seg n="2" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">betwixt Sir <hi rend="bold">James Steward</hi>, and Sir <hi rend="bold">George wharton</hi> Knights, who were </hi></seg> <seg n="3" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">both slaine at that time.</hi></seg> <lb/> <seg n="4" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">To the Tune of, <hi rend="bold">Downe Plumpton Parke.</hi></hi></seg>
IT grieves me for to tell the woe, neere London late that did befall, On Martlemas Eve, oh woe is me, I grieve the chance and ever shall: Of two right gallant Gentlemen, who very rashly fell at words, But so their quarrell could not fall, till they fell both by their keene swords. The one was Sir George Wharton calld, the good Lord Whartons sonne and heire, The other Sir James the Scottish Knight, a man that valiant heart did beare: Neere to the Court these Gallants stout[,] fell out as they in gaming were, And in their fury grew so hot, they hardly could from blowes forbeare. Nay, kind intreaties could not stay Sir James from striking in that place, For in the height and heat of blood, he stroke young Wharton ore the face. What dost thou meane, said Wharton then, to strike in such unmanly sort? That I will take it at thy hand the tongue of man shall nere report. Why doe thy worst then, said Sir James, and marke me Wharton what I say, Theres nere a Lord in England breathes, shall make me give an inch of way: This brags too large stout Wharton said, let our brave English Lords alone, And talke to me who 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 apparant cast thy Glove to gage, to try as I doe mine. I, said Sir James, hast thou such spirit, I did not thinke within thy breast, That such a haughty daring heart, as thou makst shew of, ere could rest: I interchange my Glove with thee, take it, and point thy bed of death, The field I meane where we must fight, and one or both lose life and breath. Weel meet neere Waltham, said Sir George, to morrow that shall be the day; Weel either take a single man, and try who beares the bell away: This done, together hands they shooke, and without any envious signe, They went to Ludgate, where they staid, and drunke each man a pint of Wine. No kind of anger could be seene, no words of malice might bewray, But all as faire, as calme, as coole, as love within their bosome lay: Till parting time, and then indeed, they shewd some rancour 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 valours throughly tryd; The second part shall briefly shew, both how they met, and how they dyd
<seg n="1" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">The second part, To the same tune.</hi></seg>
YOung Wharton was the first that came, to the pointed place on the next day, Who presently spyed Sir James comming as fast as he could post away: And being met in manly sort, the Scottish Knight did to Wharton say, I doe mislike thy Doublet George, it sits so cleare on thee this day. Hast thou no privie Armour on? nor yet no privie coat of steele? I nere saw Lord in all my life, become a Doublet halfe so weele; 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 truely. Our men shall rip our Doublets George, so shall we know whether of us doe lye, And then weele to our weapons sharpe, our selves true Gallants for to try: Then they slipt off their Doublets faire, standing up in their shirts of Lawne, Follow my counsell the Scottish Knight said, and Wharton to thee Ile make it knowne. Now follow my counsell, Ile follow thine, and weele fight in our shirts said he, Now nay, now nay, young Wharton said, Sir James Steward that may not be, Unlesse we were drunkards and quarrellers, that had no care over our sell, Not caring what we goe about, or whether our soules go to heaven or hell. Weele first to God bequeath our soules, then next our Corps to dust and clay: With that stout Wharton was the first tooke Rapier and Pontard there that day: Seven thrusts in turnes these Gallants had, before one drop of blood was drawne:
The Scottish Knight then spake valiantly, stout Wharton still thou holdst thine owne. With the next thrust that Wharton thrust, he ran him through the shoulder bone: The next was through the thicke of the thigh, thinking he had the Scottish Knight slaine, 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 Scottish Knight said, Sir George Wharton that may not be, The one of us shall kill each other, ere off this ground that we doe flee: Then in a maze Sir George lookt backe, to see what company was nigh: They both had dangerous markes of death, yet neither would from the other fly. But both through body wounded sore with courage lusty strong and sound, They made a desperate deadly close, they both fell dead unto the ground: Our English Knight was first that fell, the Scottish Knight fell immediately: Who cryed both to Jesus Christ, receive our soules, O Lord, we dye. God blesse our noble King and Queene, and all their Noble Progenie, That Brittaine all may live in one, in love and perfect unitie. 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. Printed at London for F.C. dwelling in the Old-Baily.