%ISOlat1; %ISOlat2; %ISOnum; %ISOpub; ]> The Great Messenger of Mortality: Or, / A Dialogue betwixt DEATH and a LADY; / From whence it appears, / That Death is no Respecter of Persons, either for Birth or Beauty; so that as sure as we are / born, we shall certainly die. Therefore, Let us prepare our selves against that Hour and / Time, that he may appear as a welcome Messenger that bringeth glad Tidings. 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 03/19/2016 35505

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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

1 NONE Death and the Lady FAIR Lady, lay your costly Robes aside, / No longer may you glory in your Pride, Houghton Library Hazlitt EC65 Editor none none none none Information in this section of the Source Description refers to the original ballad manuscript. 1: 132 1: 133 The Great Messenger of Mortality: Or, / A Dialogue betwixt DEATH and a LADY; / From whence it appears, / That Death is no Respecter of Persons, either for Birth or Beauty; so that as sure as we are / born, we shall certainly die. Therefore, Let us prepare our selves against that Hour and / Time, that he may appear as a welcome Messenger that bringeth glad Tidings. The Great Messenger of Mortality: Or, A Dialogue betwixt DEATH and a LADY; From whence it appears, That Death is no Respecter of Persons, either for Birth or Beauty; so that as sure as we are born, we shall certainly die. Therefore, Let us prepare ourselves against that Hour and Time, that he may appear as a welcome Messenger that bringeth glad Tidings. The Great Messenger of Mortality: Or, A Dialogue betwixt DEATH and a LADY; From whence it appears, That Death is no Respecter of Persons, either for Birth or Beauty; so that as sure as we are born, we shall certainly die. Therefore, Let us prepare ourselves against that Hour and Time, that he may appear as a welcome Messenger that bringeth glad Tidings. ?-?

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XBallad Parsing Engine developed by Carl G Stahmer.

TEI Template developed by Gerald Egan and Modified by Carl Stahmer

All apostrophes are encoded as '.

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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 3/19/2016 Santa Barbara, California, United States of America class death religious concepts supernatural/ magic youth/ age Ballads, English 17th century Broadsides, England 17th century 3/19/2016 5:41:56 PM XBallad King, Joyce Created XML Version of Ballad 3/19/2016 5:41:56 PM Transcription Supervisor Palmer, Megan Transcription of ballad manuscript 3/19/2016 5:41:56 PM Double-Key Comparison and Merging Bell, Erik Transcription of ballad manuscript 3/19/2016 5:41:56 PM Transcriptionist Two Ward, Jayne Transcription of ballad manuscript 3/19/2016 5:41:56 PM Transcriptionist One McCants, Kristen Transcription of ballad manuscript 3/10/2016 Checker Katie Adkison Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 2/25/2015 Bibliographer Kristen McCants Initial Ballad Catalogue Record Created 11/30/2015 Checker Alanna Bartolini Edited Ballad Catalogue Record
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DEATH. FAIR Lady, lay your costly Robes aside, No longer may you glory in your Pride, Take leave of all your carnal vain Delight, I'm come to summon you away this Night. LADY. What bold Attempt is this? Pray let me know From whence you come, and whither must i go? Shall i who am a Lady yield or bow To such a pale-fac'd Visage, Who art Thou?
DEATH. Do you not know me? Well, I'll tell you then, 'Tis I that conquer all the Sons of Men; No pitch of Honour from my Dart is free, My Name is Death, Have you not heard of me? LADY. Yes, I have heard of you Time after Time, But being in the Glory of my Prime, I did not think that thou wouldst call so soon, Why must my Morning Sun go down at Noon?
DEATH. Talk not of Noon, you may as well be mute, This is no Time at all for to dispute; Your richest Jewels, Gold and Garments brave, Your Houses and Lands they must new Masters have. LADY. My Heart is cold, and tremble at the News, Here's Bags of Gold if thou wilt me excuse, And seize on those, thus finish thou the Strife, With such who are a weary of their Life; Are there not many bound in Prison strong, In bitter Grief of Soul have anguish'd long, From all would find a Grave a Place of Rest, From all their Grief in which they are opprest. Besides, there's many with their hoary Head, And Palsey Joints, by which their Jaws are fled. Release thou them, whose Grief and Sorrow's great, And spare my Life to have a longer Date. DEATH. Though they with age are full of Grief and Pain, While their appointed Time they must remain. I come to none before my Warrant's seal'd, And when it is they must submit and yield; I take no Bribes, believe me, this is true, Prepare yourself to go, I am come for you. LADY. Death, Be not so severe, let me obtain A little longer Time to live and reign. Fain would I stay, if thou my Life wilt spare; I have a Daughter beautiful and fair, I'd live to see her wed, whom I adore, Grant me but this, and then I'll ask no more. DEATH. This is a slender frivolous Excuse, I have you fast, and will not let you loose; Leave her to Providence, for you must go Along with me, whether you will or no: I Death command great Kings to leave their Crown, And at my Foot they lay their Scepters down. If unto Kings this Favour I'll not give, But cut them down, Can you suppose to live
Beyond the Limits of your Time and Space? No, I must send you to another Place. LADY. You learned Doctors, now express your Skill, And let not Death of me obtain his Will; Prepare your Cordials, let me Comfort find, My Gold shall fly like Chaff before the Wind. DEATH. Forbear to call, their Skill will never do, They are but Mortals here as well as you; I give the Wound, my Dart is sure, 'Tis far beyond a Doctor's Skill to cure. How freely can you let your Silver fly, To purchase Life, rather than yield to dy? But while you flourish here in all your Store, You cannot spare one Penny to the Poor. In all your Pomp the Poor you then did hate, And, like rich Dives, scourg'd them from your Gate. But tho' you did, those whom you thus did scorn, They like yourself into this World were born. Tho' for your Alms they did both cringe and bow, They bore God's Image here as well as you. Tho' in his Name their Suit to you they make, You would not give one Penny for his Sake; My Lord beheld wherein you did amiss, And call'd you hence to give account for this. LADY. O heavy News, Must I no longer stay? How shall I stand, good God, in thy great Day? Down from her Eyes the dying Tears did flow, And said, There's none knows what I undergo: Upon a Bed of Sorrow here I lie, My Carnal Life makes me afraid to Die; My Sins, alas, are many, gross and foul, Lord Jesus Christ have Mercy on my Soul, And though I do deserve thy righteous Frown, Yet pardon, Lord, and pour a Blessing down. Then with a dying Sigh her Heart did break, And did the Pleasures of this World forsake. Here may we see the High and Mighty Fall; For Death he shews us no Respect at all, To anyone of High and Low Degree, Great Men submit to Death as well as we Though they are gay, their Lives are but a Span, A Lump of Clay, so poor a Creature's MAN.
Sold by J. Cobb, in Plumbtree-Street, St. Giles's; and A. Powel, at the Bible in Long-Ditch, Westminster.