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EBBA 32715

National Library of Scotland - Crawford
Ballad XSLT Template
The
London Damsels fate
by unjust Tyrany: Or, the Rash Lover.
Being a Relation of a handsome maid that was lately through the Tyranny of her Parents,
forced from her dearest, to one whom she hated, her Love for sorrow dyes, she being
distracted through grief and envy, first drinks poyson, and then stabs herself, and dyed in
great Desolation.
Tune of Troy Town,

ALl you that unto marriage tend,
and give your hearts unto the fate,
As maidens hearts that way do bend,
listen to what I shall relate;
Where unjust choice through Tyrany,
did bring this maid to misery.

She lov'd a youngman passing well,
whose youth and fortune did advance
Both Spain and Holland as men tell,
and eke the glorious Court of France;
But as her Love she oft applyed,
her Parents crossness still deny'd.

Yet she insisted in her Love;
and to her dearest gave her Heart,
Protesting still that death should prove
her mortal soul e'r she would part:
Never did Turtles more invest
a constancy in each ones breast.

She often clasp't about his Neck
her Christal Arms, as Lovers do,
But little thought those signs a check
to bring her kindness unto woe:
Till pevish Parents by their will
those tender hopes of joy did kill.

Her Lover us'd to make great moan,
saying, if she were ever fled,
His would then be left alone,
and in short space of time be dead:
That such departing once away
would quickly bring his fatal day.

No sooner had these Lovers gave
each others hands and hearts also,
But her cross mother brings a slave
whom she would have her married to,
Crossing her love to please her will,
because she would her mind fulfill.

Her Parents still made no delay
to hasten her unto their choice,
But what she proffer'd they cryed nay,
and made it go by th' major voice:
Forcing her to be made a wife
to whom she ne'r lov'd in her life.

Alas she cry'd her heart she had given
unto her dearest love and joy,
Wishing a thousand times to Heaven
and Mother, that they'd not destroy
So dear a heart and force her mind
to whom she ne'r could passion find.

Those sighs and tears could not prevaile
against her stubborn Parents heart,
The more she beg'd the more they rail[']d
saying, she and her love must part,
And under duty fix her mind
unto the match they had design'd.

She now being banisht from her Love,
and wedding day now drawing on,
She must be forc'd her will to move
on whom she ne'r could look upon,
Abjuring oft his very sight,
& wish't Heaven would obscure the light

For all these tears her friends increas'd
in Tyranny still more and more,
So that the Parson never ceas'd
till he had read the Wedlock o're.
Yet she did speechless still remain,
whilst tears & sighs dropt down amain

Then coming home with hand and Eyes
erected up to Heaven, she prays,
(With Penetrable sighs and cries)

some stander by to end her days?
Wishing to Heaven that it wou'd
let the Earth sink whereon she stood.

In the meantime her only dear
whose Parents Tyrany did part,
These tydings which came to his ear,
within short space did break his heart:
Which then did so enrage her grief,
she gave the world o're for relief.

Now therefore falling in a trance,
like one distracted or possest;
Fancying the Furies turn[']d her dance,
her wandring mind could take no rest:
Which then did so enrage her fate,
her friends then griev'd, but 'twas too late

Thus poor distracted woman she
for some few dayes in torture groan,
Her thoughts increase her misery,
and Parents then too late bemoan.
Then sitting on her mournfull bed.
with poyson in glass these words she said

Love, though thou art gone I am thy wife
and this same health I drink for thee,
Thou that art dearer then my life,
why should we longer absent be?
Come gentle glass one kiss of thine
shall send me to my love divine.

Then lifting up her stedy hand
as if of her death were afraid,
From which with Dagger at command
with sighs & groans these words she said
Since unto him my heart I owe,
I'le pay my debts the world shall know

Thus in a trice her life was gone,
and blood which for her Love was fled,
Now Parents will might sigh and groan
for now alas they found her dead,
They grieve and curse their fatal breath,
as Accessaries of her death.

Lament and grieve they might in vain,
and to the stones declare their grief,
None sought to remedy their pain,
nor to their sorrows give relief:
That had thus through their Tyrany
brought their own Child to misery.


Printed for P. Brooksby at the Golden Ball in West smithfield.

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