%ISOlat1; %ISOlat2; %ISOnum; %ISOpub; ]> Fair MAUDLIN, / The Merchant's Daughter of BRISTOL. University of California - Santa Barbara The Early Modern Center English Broadside Ballad Archive (EBBA) Director Patricia Fumerton Associate Director Carl G Stahmer ?-? Early Modern Center, University of California Santa Barbara Santa Barbara, CA 06/17/2014 33100

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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

BEHOLD the touchstone of true love, / Maudlin the merchant's daughter of Bristol-town Information in this section of the Source Description refers to the original ballad manuscript. 1: 178 Fair MAUDLIN, / The Merchant's Daughter of BRISTOL. Fair MAUDLIN, The Merchant’s Daughter of BRISTOL. Fair MAUDLIN, The Merchant's Daughter of BRISTOL. ?-?

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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 6/17/2014 Santa Barbara, California, United States of America clothing/ appearance gender love maritime marriage punishment religious groups servitude travel trickery/ deceit Ballads, English 17th century Broadsides, England 17th century 6/17/2014 2:56:20 PM XBallad Chow, Jeremy Created XML Version of Ballad 6/17/2014 2:56:20 PM Transcription Supervisor Meyer, Shannon Transcription of ballad manuscript 6/17/2014 2:56:20 PM Double-Key Comparison and Merging Meyer, Shannon Transcription of ballad manuscript 6/17/2014 2:56:20 PM Transcriptionist Two Way-Henthorne, Zane Transcription of ballad manuscript 6/17/2014 2:56:20 PM Transcriptionist One Rendt, Ariel Transcription of ballad manuscript 4/22/2013 Checker Shannon Meyer Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 4/22/2013 Checker Shannon Meyer Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 12/6/2012 Checker William Hildalgo Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 10/23/2012 Bibliographer William Hildalgo Initial Ballad Catalogue Record Created
<seg n="1" rend="left"><hi rend="bold"><hi rend="italic">Fair</hi></hi> <hi rend="italic">MAUDLIN,</hi></seg> <seg n="2" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">The Merchant's Daughter of BRISTOL.</hi></seg>
BEHOLD the touchstone of true love, Maudlin the merchant's daughter of Bristol-town Whose firm affection nothing could move; Her favour bears the lovely brown. A gallant youth was dwelling by, Who long had bore this maiden great good will, She loved him most faithfully, But all her friends withstood it still. The young man now perceiving well, He could not get the favour of her friends, The force of sorrow to expel And view strange countries he intends. And now to take his last farewell Of his true love, his fair and constant Maudlin, With musick sweet that did excel He play'd under her window then, Farewel, quoth he, my own true love, Farewel, the dear and chiefest treasure of my heart, Tho' Fortune's spite, that false did prove, I am enforc'd from thee to part. Into the land of fair Italy, There will I travel and weary out my life in woe. Seeing my true love is kept from me, I hold my life a mortal foe. Fair Bristol town, therefore adieu, For Padua shall be my habitation now, Altho' my love dost rest in you, To whom alone my heart I vow. With trickling tears thus did he sing, Sighs and sobs descending from his heart full sore. He said, when he his hands did wring, Farewel, sweet love, for everm[o]re. Fair Maudlin from a window high, She heard her true love with music where he stood, But not a word she did reply, Fearing her parents angry mood. In tears she spent that woeful night, Wishing herself, tho' naked, with her friend; She blames he[r] friends, and fortune's spight. That wrought her love such luckless end. And in her heart she made a vow, To forsake her c[o]untry and ki[n]dred all, And for to follow her true love, To abide all chance that might befal. The night is gone, and the day is come, And in the morning very early she did arise, She get her down into a lower room, Where sundry seaman she espies. A gallant master among them all, The master of a great and goodly ship was he, Who there were waiting in the hall, To speak with her father, if it might be. She kindly takes him by the hand, Good s[i]r said she, would you speak with any here? Quoth he, Fair maid, and therefo[r]e do I stand. Then gentle sir, I pray draw near. Into a pleasant parlour by, Hanh in hand she brings the seaman all alone, Sighing to him most pitiously, She thus to him did make her moan: She fel[l] upon her bended knee, [Good sir,] said she, pity a woman's woe.
And prove a faithful friend to me. That I to you my griei may show. Sith you repose your trust, he said, In me unknown, and eke a stranger here. Be you assur'd, most beautious maid, Most faithful still I will appear. I have a brother, then quoth she, Whom as my life I love, and favour tenderly. In Padua, alas! is he, Full sick, God wot, and like to die Full fain I would my brother see, But that my father will no yeild to let me go. Therefore, kind sir, be kind to me, And unto me this favour show. Some ship-boy's garment bring to me, That I disguis'd may go unknown, And unto sea I'll go with thee, If so much favour might be shown. Fair maid, quo[t]h he, take here my hand, I will fulfil each thing that you desire. And see you safe in that same land, And in the place that you require. She gave to him a tender kiss, And said, Your servant, master, I will be. And prove your faithful friend for this; Sweet, then forget not me. This done, as they had both agreed, Soon after that, by break of day, He brings her garments then with speed, Therein herself she did array And e'er her father did arise, She meets her master as he walked in the hall. She did attend on him likewise, Until her father did him call. But here the merchant made and end. Of those his weighty matters all that day, His wife came weeping in with speed, Saying our daughter's gone away. The merchant then amaz'd in mind. Yonder vile wretch entic'd our child away. But I well wot, I shall him find, In Italy, ot Padua. With that bespoke the master brave, Worshipful merchant, thither goes this youth. And any thing that you would have, He wil perform, and write the truth. Sweet youth, quoth he, if it be so, Bear me a letter to the English there, And gold on thee I will bestow: My daughter's welfare I do fear. Her mother took her by the hand. Fair youth, if e'er thou dost my daughter see, Let me soon thereof understand, And there is twenty crowns for thee Thus thro' the daughter's strange disguise Her mother knew not when she spoke unto her child. Then after her master strait she hies, Taking her leave with countenance mild. Thus to the sea Sweet Maudlin is gone, With her gentle master; God send fair wind! Where we awile must leave them all alone, you the second part do find.
<seg n="1" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">PART II.</hi></seg>
WELCOME, sweet Maudlin, from the sea Where bitter storms and tempests do arise The pleasant banks of Italy You may behold with mortal eyes. Thanks, gentle master, then said she, A faithful friend in sorrow thou hast been: If fortune once do fall on me, My gratitude shall soon be seen. Blest be the land that feeds my love, Blest be the place wherein he doth abide, No trial will I stick to prove, Whereby my true love may be try'd. Now will I walk with joyful heart, To view the town wherein he doth remain. And seek him out in every part, Until his fight I do obtain. And I, quoth he, will not forsake Sweet Maudlin in her sorrows --- Up and down, In wealth or woe thy part I'll take, And bring thee safe to Padua town. And after many weary steps! In Padua they arriv'd at last: For very joy her heart it leaps, She thinks not on her sorrows past. Condemned he was to die alas! Except he would from his religion turn, But rather than he would to mass, In firey flames he chose to burn. Now doth sweet Naudlin weep and wail. Her joy is turn'd to sorrow, grief, and care. For nothing could her plaints prevail, For death alone must be his share. She walks under the prison walls Where her true love did languish in distress. Then woefully for food he calls, When hunger did hls heaart oppress. He sighs and sobs and makes great moan, Farewell, Sweet heart, he cry'd, for evermore, And all my friends that I have known, In Bristol town with wealth and store. For most of all, farewell, quoth he, My own sweet Maudlin, whom I left behind. For never more thou wilt me see, Woe to thy father most unkind. How well I were if thou wert here, With thy fair hands to close my wretched eyes, My torments easy would appear, My soul with joy would scale the skies. When Maudlin heard her lovers moan, Her eyes with tears, her heart soon filled was, To speak with him no means was found, Such grievous doom did on him pass. Then she put off her lads attire. Her maiden-weeds upon her seemly set. At the judge's house she did enquire, And there she did a service get, She did her service there so well, And eke so well herself she did behave, With her in love her master fell, His servant's favour he doth crave. Maudlin, quoth he, my heart's delight, To whom my soul is so inclin'd. Breed not my death, thro' thy dispright; A faithful friend thou shalt me find. Grant me thy love, fair maid, quoth he, And then desire what thou canst devise, And I will grant it unto thee, Whereby thy credit may arise.
I have a brother, sir, she said, For his religion is condemned to die, In loathsome prison he is laid, Oppress'd with grief and misery. Grant me my brother's life, she said, And now to you my love and liking I will give That may not be, quoth he, fair maid; Unless he turn he cannot live. An English friar, there is, she said, Of learning great, and passing pure of life, Let him to my brother be sent, And he will finish soon the strife. Her master granted her request, The marriner in friar's weeds she did array, And to her love that lay distrest, She did a letter soon convey. When he had read these gentle lines, His heart was ravish'd with pleasant joy: Where now he is full well he knew; The friar likewise was not coy. But did declare to him at large The enterprize his love had taken in hand The young man did the friar charge His love should strait depart the land. Here is no place for her, he said, But wooful death and danger of her life. Professing truth I was betray'd, And fearful flames must end the strife. For ere I will my faith deny, And swear myself to follow damn'd Antichrist, I'll yield my body for to die, To live in heaven with the highest. Oh! sir, the gentle friar said, Consent thereto, and end the strife. A woeful match is made, quoth he. Where Christ is left to gain a wife. When she had us'd all means she might, To save his life, yet it would not be; Then of the judge she claim'd her r[i]ght, To die the death as well sshe. When no persuasion could prevail, To change her mind in anything she said, She with him was condemned to d[i]e, And for them both one fire was made. Yet, arm in arm most joyfully These lovers twain unto the fire did go. The marriner most faithfully Was likewise partner of their woe. But when the judges understood That faithful friendship did in them remain, They sav'd their lives, and afterwards To England sent them back again. Now was their sorrow turn'd to joy, And faithful lovers have their hearts desire. Their pain so well they did employ, God granted that they did desire. And when they did to England come, And in merry Bristol arriv'd at last, Great joy there was to all and some, They heard the dangers they had past. Her father he was dead, God wot, And her old mother was joyful at her sight. Their wishes she denied not, But wedded them to their [h]eart's deligh, Her gentle master he desired, To be her father, and at church to give her then It was fulfilled as she required, To the joy of all good men.
Printed and sold in Bow Church-Yard, London.