%ISOlat1; %ISOlat2; %ISOnum; %ISOpub; ]> The distressed Virgin. / OR, / The false Young-man and the constant Maid. / The qualities of them both displaid. Parker, Martin 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 08/23/2021 37220

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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

R181448 A Thousand times my love commend / to him that hath my heart in hold, NAy more, he made a vow to me, / that I should be his wedded wife, Information in this section of the Source Description refers to the original ballad manuscript. 1: 11 The distressed Virgin. / OR, / The false Young-man and the constant Maid. / The qualities of them both displaid. The distressed Virgin. The distressed Virgin. OR, The false Young man and the constant Maid. The qualities of them both displayed. Parker, Martin ?-? F.C. J.W. T.V. W.G.

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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 8/23/2021 Santa Barbara, California, United States of America affliction / health infidelity love Ballads, English 17th century Broadsides, England 17th century 8/23/2021 3:05:45 PM XBallad McCants, Kristen Created XML Version of Ballad 8/23/2021 3:05:45 PM Transcription Supervisor McCants, Kristen Transcription of ballad manuscript 8/23/2021 3:05:45 PM Double-Key Comparison and Merging McCants, Kristen Transcription of ballad manuscript 8/23/2021 3:05:45 PM Transcriptionist Two Blank, Alice Transcription of ballad manuscript 8/23/2021 3:05:45 PM Transcriptionist One Zisa, Jessica Transcription of ballad manuscript 9/29/2020 Checker Kristen McCants Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 7/12/2021 Checker Aisha Anwar Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 7/10/2021 Transcriber Raychawdhuri, Anita Created Ballad XML 7/10/2021 Transcriber McCants, Kristen Created Ballad XML 7/10/2021 Double-Key Transcription Merger Stark, Nicole Created Ballad XML 7/10/2021 Transcription Supervisor McCants, Kristen Created Ballad XML 7/10/2021 XBallad Fulmer, Elias Created Ballad XML 7/10/2021 Transcriber Zisa, Jessica Created Ballad XML 7/10/2021 Transcriber Blank, Alice Created Ballad XML 7/10/2021 Double-Key Transcription Merger McCants, Kristen Created Ballad XML 7/10/2021 Transcription Supervisor McCants, Kristen Created Ballad XML 7/10/2021 XBallad Fulmer, Elias Created Ballad XML 4/30/2019 Bibliographer Kristen McCants Initial Ballad Catalogue Record Created
<seg n="1" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">The distressed Virgin.</hi></seg> <seg n="2" rend="left"><hi rend="italic"><hi rend="bold">OR,</hi></hi></seg> <lb/> <seg n="3" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">The false Young-man and the constant Maid.</hi></seg> <seg n="4" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">The qualities of them both displaid.</hi></seg> <lb/> <seg n="5" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">To an excellent new tune.</hi></seg>
A Thausand times my love commend to him that hath my heart in hold, I took him for my dearest friend his love I more esteem'd then gold; When first my eies did see his face, and that my ears did hear his voyce, His love I freely did imbrace, my heart told me he was my choice. O had he still continued true, and in affection permanent, Had he performed what was due, then had I found true hearts content: But he regardlesse of his vow, which he did make to me before, Hath thus in sorrow left me now, my former follies to deplore. Would I had never seen those eies, (that like attractive adamants) Did my poor heart with love surprize, the power of love so me enchants, I have no power to leave his love, though with stern hate he me pursue, To him I will most constant prove, though he be faithlesse and untrue. I put my finger into the bush, thinking the sweetest Rose to find, I prickt my finger to she bone, and yet I left the rose behind: If roses be such prickling flowers, they must be gather'd while they be green, But she that hath an unkind love, alas she rowes against the stream.
O would he but conceive aright, the griefe that I for him sustain, He could not chuse but change his spight, to faithfull love and leave disdain; I love to have him still in place, his too long absence makes me mourn, Yet he disdaines to see my face, and holds my company in scorn. It grieves my heart full fore to thinke, that he whom I so dearly lov'd, Should thus with me refuse to drinke, yet can my passions nere remove: Though he I know could wish my death, so great is his inveterate hate, Yet I could sooner lose my breath, then see him wrong'd in name and state. Ill hap had I to come in place, where first I saw his tempting look, As soon as I beheld his face I Cupids prisoner straight was took; And never since that fatall hour, have I enjoy'd a minutes rest, The thought of him is of such power, it never can forsake my brest. Then was I struck with Cupids dart, then was my fancy captivated, Then did I vow that still my heart, should rest with him though me he hated; Then did he make a shew of love, which did much more my heart inflame, But now he doth perfidious prove, and give me cause his love to blame.
<seg n="1" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">The second Part, To the same tune.</hi></seg>
NAy more, he made a vow to me, that I should be his wedded wife, And he forsakes me now I see, which makes me weary of my life: I little thought what I should find, that young men could dissemble so, Sure he's the falsest of his kind, ill hap had I to prove him so. Could any man be so hard-hearted, to leave a harmlesse main in griefe? From me all comfort clean is parted, unlesse his favour grant reliefe: He is the man that bred my bain, he is the man whose love alone, Must be the salve to cure my pain, or else my life will soon be gone. O faithlesse wretch consider well that heaven abhoreth perjury, Great torments are prepar'd in hell, for them that thus will swear and lie, O hadst thou never made a shew of love, thou hadst excus'd thy blame, But thy false heart full well doth know what oathes thy perjur'd tongue did frame. That obstacle that hinders me, is that which I suspect full sore. His fruit grows on some other Tree, and he's seduced by some whore; Or else he hath some other Lasse, perhaps like me, a harmlesse maid, Whom he may bring to such a passe, as I am brought by Cupids aid.
Oh heavens forbid that a[n]yone, that bears an honest loving mind, Should thus have cause to grieve & mourn at such a knave as shames his kind, But why should I as passions move, with bitter words upon him rail, Whom I am ever bound to love, untill my vitall spirit faile. Sweet Love forget my lavish tongue, if I offended in any sort, To recompence thee for thy wrong, ile alwaies give thee good report, Although to me thou art unkind, who never gave thee any cause, Yet I am still resolv'd in mind, never to break god Cupids laws. And if I never be thy wife, (which is the thing I justly claime) I vow to lead a single life, and never think of Lovers game: But why speak I of life, when death doth every minute claime his due? I cannot long detain my breath, having a Lover so untrue. Let all true Lovers judge aright, in what a case poore soule am I, Come gentle death and work thy spight, for now I am prepar'd to die, O heavens forgive my Love his wrong, done unto me a Maiden pure, Who for his sake must dye ere long, for long my life cannot endure.
Finis. M.P. London Printed for F.C. J.W. T.V. W.G.