%ISOlat1; %ISOlat2; %ISOnum; %ISOpub; ]> THE / Dying Lover's last Farewel: / OR, THE / Tragical Downfal of Martellus and Arminda. / The Shepherd being slighted, did despair, / And being sore opprest with Grief and Care, / He did complain that Love he ever try'd, / So yielded unto Fate, and there he dy'd: / Who when the Nymph could not recal by Art, / Her Sorrows swell'd & broke her Tender Heart. 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 07/01/2014 33602

The University of California makes a claim of copyright only to original contributions made by Early Modern Center participants and other members of the university community. The University of California makes no claim of copyright to the original text. Permission is granted to download, transmit or otherwise reproduce, distribute or display the contributions to this work claimed by The University of California for non-profit educational purposes, provided that this header is included in its entirety. For inquiries about commercial uses, please contact:

Patricia Fumerton Early Modern Center - English Department University of California Santa Barbara, CA 93105 United States of America EMail: pfumer@english.ucsb.edu

R171886 1 Stone Walls cannot a Prison make: or, Young Pheon. Young Phaon Stone Walls cannot a Prison make: or, Young Pheon. ONe night when all the Village slept, / Martellus sought despair, Information in this section of the Source Description refers to the original ballad manuscript. 1: 986 THE / Dying Lover's last Farewel: / OR, THE / Tragical Downfal of Martellus and Arminda. / The Shepherd being slighted, did despair, / And being sore opprest with Grief and Care, / He did complain that Love he ever try'd, / So yielded unto Fate, and there he dy'd: / Who when the Nymph could not recal by Art, / Her Sorrows swell'd & broke her Tender Heart. THE Dying Lover's last Farewell: OR, THE Tragical Downfall of Martellus and Arminda. The Shepherd being slighted, did despair, And being sore oppressed with Grief and Care, He did complain that Love he ever tried, So yielded unto Fate, and there he died: Who when the Nymph could not recall by Art, Her Sorrows swelled and broke her Tender Heart. ?-? J. Conyers

This document follows the guidelines specified for TEI.

XML Generated Automatically at 7/1/2014 3:31:55 PM Using EMC

XBallad Parsing Engine developed by Carl G Stahmer.

TEI Template developed by Gerald Egan and Modified by Carl Stahmer

All apostrophes are encoded as '.

Any dashs occurring in line breaks have been removed;

All dashs are encoded as ‐ and all em dashes as —.

 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 7/1/2014 Santa Barbara, California, United States of America affliction/ health death infidelity love rural life Ballads, English 17th century Broadsides, England 17th century 7/1/2014 3:31:55 PM XBallad Bell, Erik Created XML Version of Ballad 7/1/2014 3:31:55 PM Transcription Supervisor Meyer, Shannon Transcription of ballad manuscript 7/1/2014 3:31:55 PM Double-Key Comparison and Merging Meyer, Shannon Transcription of ballad manuscript 7/1/2014 3:31:55 PM Transcriptionist Two Hopkins, Shay Transcription of ballad manuscript 7/1/2014 3:31:55 PM Transcriptionist One Gutierrez-Jones, Natalia Transcription of ballad manuscript 9/6/2013 Checker Christopher Foley Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 9/6/2013 Checker Christopher Foley Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 2/26/2013 Checker William Hildalgo Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 12/19/2012 Checker Shannon Meyer Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 11/8/2012 Bibliographer Shannon Meyer Initial Ballad Catalogue Record Created
<seg n="1" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">THE</hi></seg> <seg n="2" rend="left">Dying Lover's last Farewel:</seg> <seg n="3" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">OR, THE</hi></seg> <seg n="4" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">Tragical Downfal of <hi rend="bold">Martellus</hi> and <hi rend="bold">Arminda.</hi></hi></seg> <lb/> <seg n="5" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">The Shepherd being slighted, did despair,</hi></seg> <seg n="6" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">And being sore opprest with Grief and Care,</hi></seg> <seg n="7" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">He did complain that Love he ever try'd,</hi></seg> <lb/> <seg n="8" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">So yielded unto Fate, and there he dy'd:</hi></seg> <seg n="9" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">Who when the Nymph could not recal by Art,</hi></seg> <seg n="10" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">Her Sorrows swell'd & broke her tender Heart.</hi></seg> <lb/> <seg n="11" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">To an excellent Play-house Tune, call'd, <hi rend="bold">Stone Walls cannot a Prison make:</hi> or, <hi rend="bold">Young</hi> Pheon.</hi></seg>
ONe night when all the Village slept, Martellus sought despair. The wandring Shepherd waking kept to tell the Woods his care: Be gone said he fond Thoughts be gone, eyes give your sorrow o're; Why should you waste your tears for one that thinks on you no more? Yet all the Birds, the Flocks, and Powers that dwell within the Grove, Can tell how many tender hours we here have pa[s]t in love: Ye Stars above, my cruel Foes, can tell how she has sworn, A thousand times that like to chose her flames should ever burn.
I thought the Rocks could sooner move, than she her faith betray, I was transported so with love, my senses fled away: When hand in hand we us'd no walk, no joy was like to this, She told me, that I had her heart, and seal'd it with a kiss. But faithless she will ever be, I to my sorrow find, Or else perhaps prove so to me, and to some other kind. But sure the God of Love will show'r down vengeance in the end, And punish by his mighty Power those that his Laws offend.
How happy should I count myself for to receive one smile, From her that stole my heart away, and did me so beguile; My drooping spirits would revive, and I should be at ease, And promise to myself good days my fancy for to please. But since she's gone, O let me have my with, and quickly dye, In this cold bank I'll make my grave, and there forgotten lye: Sad Nightingales the watch shall keep, and kindly there complain. Then down the Shepherd lay to sleep, and never wak'd again. Arminda coming through the Grove, to ease him of his grief, And finding that her wronged Love was dead past all relief; Unto the Gods she did complain, with senses all amaz'd, And sobbed out these words in vain, as on his grave she gaz'd: Oh! why ye only Powers above, would you so cruel be, For to deprive me of my Love, e're I his face could see? Unhappy I whose deep disdain makes me thus sadly crost, For when I thought to love again I found that I was lost.
O let me strive with all my art thy breath for to reprive, That thou mayest know my love-sick heart doth for my Shepherd grieve: With open eyes behold my woe, that am with sorrow slain, Since that I prov'd thy deadly Foe to kill thee with disdain. But oh! alas, I know grim Death he will not bribed be, For to restore his latest breath to see my misery: No sorrow e're was like to mine, come help me for to mourn, That I in tears of watry brine may to a deluge turn. You Birds that warble in the woods, and Beasts so fierce and fell, Bear witness of my dying words, and weep my funeral-knell: Since he is to Elizium gone, who was to me so kind, No longer I can live alone, nor stay one hour behind. I come dear Love, I come she cry'd, make thy Arminda room, Since that for love Martellus dy'd, unto the shades I come. Then fetching of a dying groan, her tender heart it broke, And falling on her Lover's grave, she never after spoke.
London: Printed for J. Conyers, near the Standard-Tavern, in Leicester fields.