%ISOlat1; %ISOlat2; %ISOnum; %ISOpub; ]> The Life of LOVE. / Let he or she, from Chains are free, / prize high their Liberty. / Loves a Disease, that seems to please / yet breeds Captivity. University of California - Santa Barbara The Early Modern Center Director Patricia Fumerton 1685-1685 Early Modern Center, University of California Santa Barbara Santa Barbara, CA 06/25/2014 32704

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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

R228310 1 The Fair one let me In: Or, Busie Fame Busy Fame The Fair one let me In: Or, Busie Fame ALL you that do in Love delight, / now mind what I relate; he pays me with disdain. [with variation] Information in this section of the Source Description refers to the original ballad manuscript. 1: 53 The Life of LOVE. / Let he or she, from Chains are free, / prize high their Liberty. / Loves a Disease, that seems to please / yet breeds Captivity. The Life of LOVE. Let he or she, from Chains are free, prize high their Liberty. Loves a Disease, that seems to please yet breeds Captivity. The Life of LOVE. Let he or she, from Chains are free, prize high their Liberty. Love's a Disease, that seems to please yet breeds Captivity. 1685-1685 P. Brooksby

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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 Featured 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 6/25/2014 Santa Barbara, California, United States of America advice affliction/ health death infidelity love virtue Ballads, English 17th century Broadsides, England 17th century 6/25/2014 11:10:31 AM XBallad Saylor, Colton Created XML Version of Ballad 6/25/2014 11:10:31 AM Transcription Supervisor Meyer, Shannon Transcription of ballad manuscript 6/25/2014 11:10:31 AM Double-Key Comparison and Merging Meyer, Shannon Transcription of ballad manuscript 6/25/2014 11:10:31 AM Transcriptionist Two Oberlander, Lindsay Transcription of ballad manuscript 6/25/2014 11:10:31 AM Transcriptionist One Rendt, Ariel Transcription of ballad manuscript 11/29/2012 Checker William Hildalgo Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 10/4/2012 Bibliographer Shannon Meyer Initial Ballad Catalogue Record Created
<seg n="1" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">The Life of LOVE.</hi></seg> <lb/> <seg n="2" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">Let he or she, from Chains are free,</hi></seg> <seg n="3" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">prize high their Liberty.</hi></seg> <seg n="4" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">Loves a Disease that seems to please</hi></seg> <seg n="5" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">yet breeds Captivity.</hi></seg> <lb/> <seg n="6" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">To the Tune of,</hi> The Fair one let me In: <hi rend="italic">Or,</hi> Busie Fame,</seg> <lb/> <seg n="7" rend="left">This may be Printed, <hi rend="italic">R. P.</hi></seg>
ALL you that do in Love delight, now mind what I relate; And give your judgement now aright, of this my cruel Fate: I loved one most tenderly. that lovd not me again: Though I for him could freely dye, he pays me with disdain. And yet upon him I must dote, O what a Fool am I: Though yet I love him well I knowt, tis meer Simplicity, To mourn for him who laughs at me, ith midst of all my pain; When he should be most kind to me, He doth me most disdain.
Hard hap I had in this my Choice, to meet one so unkind; Whilst others sweetly do rejoyce, no Comfort I can find: But sighing waste myself away, and linger in my Chain; I pine for him both night and day, that doth me still disdain. This is Unjustice to the heighth, that Reason contradicts; Both night and day for him to sigh, that my poor heart afflicts: Oh! I had rather chuse to dye, then in this state remain, Tis worse then Death assuredly, to meet with such disdain.
WEll since I must this grief endure, ile now resign my breath; For being past all hopes of Cure, I covet for my Death: For I shall never quiet be, while I do here remain; Come Death and strike immediately, then farewell his disdain. Then down her Cheeks the tears did run and oft she wisht in vain; For that which could not well be won, which much encreasd her pain, Come Death, quoth she, & Pierce my heart, let me no more complain; I long to feel thy killing dart, since he doth me disdain. The Young-Mans Loving answer. MY dear youre too too much unkind against me thus to speak; For thou shalt see I will prove kind, thy heart it shall not break: For every tear that thou hast spent, I bottle up in store; Believe me Love, tis my intent, that thou shouldst grieve no more.
No no, forbear to mourn for me, who loves thee tenderly, I will be faithful unto thee, and constant till I dye: Thou art an Angel unto me, tis thee I do adore; In thee alone I do delight, then grieve for me no more. It piercd me through my tender heart, to hear thee thus complain; It is not in the power of art, to make me thee disdain: My Love is spotless I protest, none ere lovd so before; My dear, I do not speak in jest, then grieve for me no more. Let this my Love a pattern be, to all both young and old; Who say, they love unfeignedly, but yet I dare be bold To say, that many do deceive, for scarce one in a Score, That say they love you may believe, but mind such Blades no more.
Printed for P. Brooksby, at the Golden-Ball in Pye Corner.