%ISOlat1; %ISOlat2; %ISOnum; %ISOpub; ]> A newe balade made by Nicholas Bal / thorp which suffered in Calys the .xv. daie of marche. M.D.L. Balthorpe, Nicholas University of California - Santa Barbara The Early Modern Center English Broadside Ballad Archive (EBBA) Director Patricia Fumerton Associate Director Carl G Stahmer 1557-1557 Early Modern Center, University of California Santa Barbara Santa Barbara, CA 10/18/2018 36278

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S90383 WHen raging death with extreme paine / Most cruelly assaultes my herte Society of Antiquaries of London - Broadsides Editor none none none none Information in this section of the Source Description refers to the original ballad manuscript. 1: 18 A newe balade made by Nicholas Bal / thorp which suffered in Calys the .xv. daie of marche. M.D.L. A new ballad made by Nicholas Balthorpe which suffered in Calais the .xv. day of March. M.D.L. Balthorpe, Nicholas Printer Jhon Waley 1557-1557

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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 10/18/2018 Santa Barbara, California, United States of America Ballads, English 17th century Broadsides, England 17th century 10/18/2018 12:41:12 PM XBallad Ward, Jayne Created XML Version of Ballad 10/18/2018 12:41:12 PM Transcription Supervisor McCants, Kristen Transcription of ballad manuscript 10/18/2018 12:41:12 PM Double-Key Comparison and Merging McCants, Kristen Transcription of ballad manuscript 10/18/2018 12:41:12 PM Transcriptionist Two Messner, Milena Transcription of ballad manuscript 10/18/2018 12:41:12 PM Transcriptionist One Raychawdhuri, Anita Transcription of ballad manuscript 8/21/2017 Bibliographer Kristen McCants Initial Ballad Catalogue Record Created 12/6/2017 Checker Kristen McCants Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 12/13/2017 Checker Kristen McCants Edited Ballad Catalogue Record
<seg n="1" rend="left">A newe balade made by Nicholas Bal</seg> <seg n="2" rend="left">thorp which suffered in Calys the .xv. Daie of marche. M.D.L.</seg>
WHen raging death with extreme paine Most cruelly assaulies my herte And when my fleshe although in vaine Doth feare the felinge of that smarte For when the swerde wil stop mi brethe Then am I at the poynt of death I call to minde the goodnes greate The father promised to us al Howe that his sonne for us shuld sweat Water and bloud and drinke the gal And shuld lose the life he hathe To pacifie his fathers wrathe And how we shuld by his sonnes death Knowe the fathers mind and wil And to preserve us stil in faith His commaundementes to fulfil So that before where we were slaine By his bloud we might live againe And where in thousand yeres ther were Before the comming of this childe Mani a man that came farre For lacke of knoweledge was begild As Pharaoes people whiche did rebel Againste Moses deserving hel But when the child had shed his bloud He made us free wher we were bande He after was to us so good To put us in the promised lande and broughe us from the lake so depe Wher he him selfe of us take kepe Then saide I streight unto my fleshe the vile carkas why doest thou fret that of this earthe art made so neshe And naught thou art but wormes meat In the have I no delyght For al is vexed in sprite Thou haste me caused to offende In folowing muche thi fleshely wil But God willing now I shal amend
In token whereof I do the kil Because thou woldest not have him forgeve thi shameful fauts while thou might live Thou didest thiselfe so muche esteme thou madest thi spirite the to obeye But thi rewarde is as I deme Streight from the spirit now to decaie and from the world thou shalt now turne And be a subjecte to the worme As for my spirite I trust he shal Amonge the auncient fathers slepe Readie when the Lord doth cal His heavenlie deitie for to kepe This is the chiefe grounde of my faithe And ther upon I take my death What availeth anie princely power Yf God agreeth not them tyl For if the Lorde doth apointe the houre thei can not worke against his wil So that for me he doth prevente For to agre I do consente Beare record now ye Christian al that seethe the ende of this mi life For helpe to none of you I cal But unto God for mercie rife But this to you I calle and crye Witnes a christian do I die Forgeve me al in this worlde wide and praie for me whiles I do live For do mans sake tarieth the tide Therfore I do you al forgeve In the Lordes handes I do commend My spirite and here I make an ende
Finis. quod Nicholas Balthorpe Imprinted at london in Foster lane by Jhon Waley.