%ISOlat1; %ISOlat2; %ISOnum; %ISOpub; ]> A Lamentable Ballad of the Tragical end of / A Gallant Lord and Virtuous Lady; / Together with the Untimely Death of their two Children. University of California - Santa Barbara The Early Modern Center English Broadside Ballad Archive (EBBA) Director Patricia Fumerton Associate Director Carl G Stahmer 1796-1796 Early Modern Center, University of California Santa Barbara Santa Barbara, CA 10/10/2018 36169

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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

N13153 1 NONE In Peascod Time IN Rome a nobleman did wed / A virgin of great fame, Information in this section of the Source Description refers to the original ballad manuscript. : A Lamentable Ballad of the Tragical end of / A Gallant Lord and Virtuous Lady; / Together with the Untimely Death of their two Children. A Lamentable Ballad of the Tragical end of A Gallant Lord and Virtuous Lady; Together with the Untimely Death of their two Children. 1796-1796 John Evans

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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 10/10/2018 Santa Barbara, California, United States of America crime death punishment race / ethnicity violence Ballads, English 17th century Broadsides, England 17th century 10/10/2018 4:25:35 PM XBallad Sintura, Maria Created XML Version of Ballad 10/10/2018 4:25:35 PM Transcription Supervisor McCants, Kristen Transcription of ballad manuscript 10/10/2018 4:25:35 PM Double-Key Comparison and Merging Levinson-Emley, Rachel Transcription of ballad manuscript 10/10/2018 4:25:35 PM Transcriptionist Two McDowell, Mirabella Transcription of ballad manuscript 10/10/2018 4:25:35 PM Transcriptionist One Green, Allison Transcription of ballad manuscript 8/14/2018 Checker Minh Hua Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 12/1/2016 Bibliographer Kristen McCants Initial Ballad Catalogue Record Created
<seg n="1" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">A Lamentable Ballad of the Tragical end of</hi></seg> <seg n="2" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">A Gallant Lord and Virtuous Lady;</hi></seg> <seg n="3" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">Together with the Untimely Death of their two Children.</hi></seg>
IN Rome a nobleman did wed A virgin of great fame, Fairer creature never did, Dame nature ever frame, By whom he had too children fair, Whom beauty did excel. They were their parents only joy, They lov'd them both so well, The lord he lov'd to hunt the buck, The tiger and the boar, And still for swiftness always took, With him a blackamoor, Which blackamoor within the wood, His lord he did offend, For which he did him then correct, In hopes he would amend. The day it grew unto an end, Then homewards he did haste, Where with his lady he did rest, Until the night was past, Then in the morning he did rise, And did his servants call. A hunting he provides to go, And they were ready all, To ease his toil the lady did, Intreat him not to go. Alas! good lady then quoth he, Why art thou grieved so, Content thyself I will return With speed to thee again Good father quoth the [l]it[t]le babes, With us here still remain. Farewell dear children I will go, A fine th[i]ng for to buy, But they the[r]ewith nothing content, Aloud began to cry, The mother takes them by the hand Saying come go with me Unto the highest tower where Your father you shall see, [The] blackamoor perceiving now [Who then d]id stay behind, [His Lord] to be a hunting gone, [Began to ca]ll to mind
My master he did me correct, My fault not being great, Now of his wife I'll be reveng'd, She shall not me intreat, The place was moated round about, The bridge he up d[i]d draw, The gates he bolted very fast. Of none he stood in awe, He up into the tower went, The lady being there, Who when she saw his countenance grim, She strait began to fear, But now my trembling heart it quakes, To think what I must write, My senses all begin to fail, My soul it doth afright; Yet must I make an end of this, Which ere I have begun, Which will make sad the hardest heart, Before it I have done. This wretch unto the lady went, And her with speed did will, His just forthwith to satisfy, His revenge to fulfill. The lady she amazed was, To hear the villain speak, Alas! quoth she, what shall I do, With grief my heart will break, With that he took her in his arms, She strait for help did cry, Content yourself lady he said, Your husband is not nigh, The bridge is drawn the gates are shut, Thereforere come lie with me, Or else I do protest and now Thy butcher I will be, The crystal tears ran down her face, Her children cry'd amain, And sought to help their mother dear, But all it was in vain. For that egregious filthy rogue, Her hands behind her bound, And then by force with all his might
He threw her on the ground, With that she shrieks; her children cry'd, And such a noise did make, The town folks hearing her lament, Did seek their parrs to take, But all in vain, no way was found, To help this lady's need, Who cry'd to them most pitiously O help, O help, with speed, Some run into the forest wide, Her lord home for to call And they that stood still did lament, This gallant lady's fall, With speed her lord came posting home, He could not enter in, His lady's cries did pierce his heart, To call he did begin, O hold thy hand thou savage moor, To hurt her do forbear, Or else be sure if I do live, Wild horses shall thee tear. With that the rogue run to the wall, He having had his will, And brought one child unto the wall, His dearest blood to spill. The child seeing his father there, To him for help did call, O father help my mother dear, We shall be killed all. Then fell upon his knees, And did the more intreat, To save the life of his poor child, Whose fear was then so great, But this vile wretch the little child By both his heels did take, And dash'd his brains against the wall, While parents hearts did ake. That being done away he run, The other child to fetch, And pluck'd it from the mother's breast, Most like a cruel wretch. Within one hand a knife he brought, The child within the other, And holding it against the wall, Saying thus die shall thy mother, With that he cut the throat Then to the father he did call, To look how he the same did cut, Then down the wall her head did fall, This done he threw it down the wall Into the mote so deep, Which made the father wring his hands, And grieveously to weep.
Who was near dead with fear. Yet this vile wretch most cruelly, Did drag her by the hair, And drew her to the very wall, Which when her lord did see, Then presently he cried out, And fell upon his knee, Quoth he if thou wilt save her life Whom I do love so dear, I will forgive thee all that is past, Though they concern me near, O save her life I thee beseech, O save her life I t[h]ee pray, And I will grant thee what thou wilt, Demand of me this day, Well quoth the moor, I do regard The moan that thou dost make If thou wilt grant me what I ask, I'll save her for thy sake. O save her life and then demand Of me what thing thou wilt. Cut off thy nose and not one drop Of her blood shall be spilt, With that the lord presently took A knife within his hand, And then his nose he quite cut off In place where he did stand. Now I have bought my lady's life, Then to the Moor did call, Then take her quoth this wicked rogue, And down he let her fall. Which when her gallant lord did see, His senaes all did fail, Yet many fought to save his life, Yet nothing could prevail, When as the Moor did see him dead, Then did he laugh amain, At them who for his gallant lord And lady did complain, Quo[t]h he I know you'll torture me, If that you can me get, But all your threats I do not fear Nor yet regard one whit. Wild horses will my body tear, i know it to be true, But i'll prevent you of that sport, And down himself he threw, Too good a death for such a wretch, A villain void of fear, And thus doth end as sad a tale, As ever man did hear.
Printed and sold by John Evans, 44, Long Lane, West Smithfield, London.