%ISOlat1; %ISOlat2; %ISOnum; %ISOpub; ]> An Epitaph on the death of the vertuous Ma- / trone, the Ladie Maioresse, late wyfe to the right Honorable / Lorde, (Alexander Auenet) Lord Maior of the Citie of London. / Who deceased the vii. Daie of July. 1570. 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 06/02/2021 37052

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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

S118276 HElpe nowe ye Muses nyne, powre out your Noates of woe: / Aide me with pitious pearcing plaints, the losse of her to shoe. Information in this section of the Source Description refers to the original ballad manuscript. 1: 22 An Epitaph on the death of the vertuous Ma- / trone, the Ladie Maioresse, late wyfe to the right Honorable / Lorde, (Alexander Auenet) Lord Maior of the Citie of London. / Who deceased the vii. Daie of July. 1570. An Epitaph on the death of the virtuous Matron, the Lady Mayoress, late wife to the right Honorable Lord, (Alexander Avenet) Lord Mayor of the City of London. Who deceased the vii Day of July. 1570. Printer Richarde Iohnes ?-?

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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 6/2/2021 Santa Barbara, California, United States of America Ballads, English 17th century Broadsides, England 17th century 6/2/2021 2:24:32 PM XBallad Wise, Juliette Created XML Version of Ballad 6/2/2021 2:24:32 PM Transcription Supervisor Abrams, Annie Transcription of ballad manuscript 6/2/2021 2:24:32 PM Double-Key Comparison and Merging Stark, Nicole Transcription of ballad manuscript 6/2/2021 2:24:32 PM Transcriptionist Two McCants, Kristen Transcription of ballad manuscript 6/2/2021 2:24:32 PM Transcriptionist One Raychawdhuri, Anita Transcription of ballad manuscript 3/21/2019 Bibliographer Kristen McCants Initial Ballad Catalogue Record Created
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HElpe nowe ye Muses nyne, powre out your Noates of woe: Aide me with pitious pearcing plaints, the losse of her to shoe. Whose Vertues (maugre Death,) shal lyve and last for aye: As fliyng Fame in Golden Trump, doth cherefully display. Ye Ladyes leave your sportes: your Pastymes set asyde To weepe this Ladies Fatall fine: Cunduictes of streames provide. Cast off your costly Silkes: your Juelles nowe forsake: To decke yourselves in mournynge Weedes, now poastynge haste do make: Helpe now ye faythfull Wyves, to wayle this faythfull Wyfe: Whose flowynge Vertues were not hyd, whyle she enjoyed lyfe, As well to Frende as Foe, her Curtesie was knowne: But now the Goddes have thought it good, to clayme agayne their owne. LUCINA hath forgot her Chardge, the fatall Fates have don: CLOTHO hath left the Rocke of lyfe: and LACHAS longe hath spon. These werie of their wonted toyle, at mightie JOVES Decree: To whom the Heavens, the Earth and Sea: and all thynges Subject bee. The Sister dire, fearce ATROPOS, with schortchyng cuttynge Knyfe, Hath shred the Threede that longe dyd holde, this Godly Ladies lyfe. Whose losse deare Dames bewayle: and weepe with many a teare: For you shall misse a Matrone grave, in daunger you to cheare. Whose Counsell in their neede, her Neighbours could not want: Her Helpe unto the Comfortlesse, could never yet bee scant. Unto the poore opprest, with Sickenesse, griefe and payne: To minister and give reliefe: her Hart was ever fayne. The Poore have lost a Nurse, to helpe their nedie state: The Ritche shall want a perfecte Frende: as they can well relate. Thus Ritche and Poore shall want, her Aide at everie neede, For both Estates in daunger deepe: she laboured to feede. The Ritche with Counselles swete, to chearish styll she thought: The Poore by Almes and lyberall Giftes: to tender longe she sought. But who shall have the greatest losse: I knowe is not unknowen, Her best beloved: the Wight whom shee, accompted for her owne. The Lorde MAIOR whiche nowe doth rule: in LONDON noble Citie: Shall want her sight, (the greater griefe, to misse a Mate so wittie A Phenyx rare, a Turtell true, so constant in her love: That Nature nedes must showe her Force, her Husbandes Teares to move Who for the losse of suche a Wyfe: can sobbyng Sighes refrayne? In whom so many Vertues dyd, continue and remayne. You Damselles deare Domesticall, whiche in her House abyde: Have cause to wayle, for you have lost a good and godly Guide. Whose Lenytie and gentell Hart, you all have knowen and felt: For unto you in Courteous sorte, her Giftes she ever dealt. You Officers that dayly serve, her Lorde at every neede: Can testifie that you have lost, a Ladie kynde indeede. So gentell, grave, demure and wise: as ye yourselves expresse: That needes ye must gush foorth your Teares: and weepe with bytternesse In fyne, both Ritche and Poore, have just cause given to wayle: The Ritch in Counsell lacke a Frende, the Poore their Comfort fayle. The Troupe of maryed Dames, whiche shall her Vertues knowe: Have offered cause, in bytter Teares, some tyme for to bestowe. But sith it is the Goddes Decree, to whom all Flesh must bende: To take this Ladie from the earth, and bringe her dayes to ende. Who can withholde that they wyll have? who dare their wyll withstande? To vayne it were for mortall men, the cause to take in hande Her Vertues were so great, that they have thought it meete: To take from hence unto the Heavens, her Christall Soule so sweete. Which now inclosed is, with Aungelles rownde aboute: Suche hoape we have, no other cause, is given us for to doubt. Her Corps shall shrowde in Claye, the Earth her right doth crave: This Ladie yeldes her Parent too: her Tombe, her Cell and Grave. From whence, no Kynge nor Keysar can, nor Ruler bearynge swaye: For all their Force and Puissaunce, once starte or go awaye. All Flesshe shall have an ende: as Goddes do graunt and wyll: And reape rewarde as they deserve, hap good, or hap it yll. But thoughe that Death have done his worste, this Dame to take awaye: In spite of Death, her Vertues shall endure and last for aye.
Farewell (O Ladye Dear) the Heavens have chosen thee Receyve this VALE, I have done: thou gettest no more of mee.
Post Funera vivit virtus. Quoth John Phillip. Imprinted at London by Richarde Johnes.