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EBBA 37272

British Library - Bagford
Ballad XSLT Template
The Woful LAMENTATION of JANE SHORE,
A Goldsmith's Wife, in London, sometime King EDWARD the Fourth's CONCUBINE, who
for her Wanton Life came to a Miserable End: Set forth for the EXAMPLE of all Wicked LIVERS. TO
the Tune of, Live with me, etc.

IF Rosamond that was so fair,
Had cause her Sorrows to declare,
Then let Jane Shore with sorrow sing,
That was beloved of a King:
Then wanton Wives in time amend,
For Love and Beauty will have an end.

In Maiden years my Beauty bright,
Was loved dear of Lord and Knight,
But yet the love that they requir'd,
It was not as my Friends desir'd

My Parents they for thirst of Gain,
A Husband for me did obtain,
And I their pleasure to fulfil,
Was forc'd to wed against my will

To Matthew Shore I was a Wife,
Till Lust brought ruine to my life,
And then my life so lewdly spent,
Which makes my soul for to lament.

In Lumbard-street I once did dwell,
As London yet can witness well,
Where many Gallants did behold
My Beauty in a Shop of Gold

I spread my plumes as Wantons do,
Some sweet and secret Friend to wooe,
Because my Love I did not find,
Agreeing to my wanton mind.

At last my name in Court did ring,
Into the ears of Englands King,
Who came and lik'd, and love requir'd;
But I made coy what he desir'd

Yet Mistress Blague, a Neighbour near,
Whose Friendship I esteemed dear,
Did say, it is a gallant thing
To be beloved of a King,

By her perswasions I was led,
For to defile my Marriage-bed,

And wrong my wedded Husband Shore,
Whom I had lov'd ten Years before.

In heart and mind I did rejoyce,
That I had made so sweet a Choice,
And therefore did my State resign,
To be King Edwards Concubine.

From City then to Court I went,
To reap the pleasures of Content,
And had the joys that Love could bring,
And knew the Secrets of a King

When I was thus advanc'd on high,
Commanding Edward with mine Eye,
For Mistress Blague I in short space
Obtain'd a Living of his Grace.

No Friend had I but in short time
I made unto Promotion climb
But yet for all this costly pride,
My Husband could not me abide

His bed, though wronged by a King,
His heart with grief did deadly sting
From England then he goes away,
To end his life upon the Sea;

He could not live to see his Name
Impared by my wanton Shame,
Although a Prince of Peerless Might,
Did reap the pleasures of his Right.

Long time I lived in the Court,
With Lords and Ladies of great sort,
For when I smil'd all Men were glad,
But when I mourn'd my Prince grew sad.

But yet an honest mind I bore,
To helpless People that were poor,
I still redrest the Orphan's Cry,
And sav'd their lives condemn'd to die.

I still had ruth on Widows Tears,
I succour'd Babes of tender years,
And never lookt for other gain,
But Love and Thanks for all my pain.

At last my Royal King did dye,
And then my days of Woe grew nigh,
When Crook-back R got the Crown,
King Edwards Friends were soon put down.

I then was punisht for my Sin,
That I so long had lived in
Yea, everyone that was his Friend,
This Tyrant brought to shameful End.

Then for my rude and wanton Life,
That made a Strumpet of a Wife,
I Pennance did in Lumbard-street,
In shameful manner in a Sheet

Where many thousands did me view,
Who late in Co[u]rt my Credit knew;
Which made the tears run down my face
To think upon my foul Disgrace

Not thus content, they took from me
My Goods, my Livings, and my Fee,
And charg'd that none should me Relieve,
Nor any Succour to me give:

Then unto Mistress Blague I went,
To whom my Jewels I had sent,
In hope thereby to ease my Want,
When Riches fail'd, and Love grew scant:

But she deny'd to me the same,
When in my Need for them I came
To recompence my former Love,
Out of her Doors she did me shove

So Love did vanish with my State,
Which now my soul repents too late;
Therefore Example take by me,
For Friendship parts in Poverty.

But yet one Friend among the rest,
Whom I before had seen distrest,
And sav'd his Life condemn'd to dye,
Did give me Food to succour me;

For which, by Law, it was decreed,
That he was hanged for that Deed
His Death did grieve me so much more,
Then had I dyed myself therefore

Then those to whom I had done good,
Durst not restore me any food;
Whereby in vain I beg'd all day,
And still in Streets by night I lay.

My Gowns beset with Pearl and Gold,
Are turn'd to simple Garments old;
My Chains and Jems and golden Rings,
To filthy Rags and loathsome Things,

Thus was I scorn'd of Maid and Wife,
For leading such a wicked Life
Both sucking Babes and Children small,
Did make a Pastime at my Fall;

I could not get one bit of Bread,
Whereby my Hunger might be fed
Nor Drink but such as Channels yield,
Or stinking Ditches in the Field;

Thus weary of my Life at length,
I yielded up my vital strength,
Within a Ditch of loathsome scent,
Where Carrion dogs do much frequent,

The which now since my Dying-day,
Is Shoreditch call'd as Writers say:
Which is a witness of my Sin,
For being Concubine to a King

You wanton Wives that fall to Lust,
Be you assur'd that God is Just;
Whoredom shall not escape his hand,
Nor Pride unpunisht in this Land;

If God to me such Shame should bring,
That yielded only to a King;
How shall they 'scape that daily run,
To practice Sin with every Man?

You Husbands match not but for Love,
Lest some Disliking after prove;
Women be warn'd when you are Wives,
What Plagues are due to sinful Lives
Then Maids & Wives in time amend,
For Love and Beauty will have end.

The Second Part of J. SHORE, wherein her Husband Bewailed his
Estate, her Wantonness, the Wrong of Marriage, and the Fall of Pride.

IF she that was fair Londons Pride,
For Beauty fam'd both far and wide,
With Swanlike-song in Sadness told,
Her deep Distresses manifold:

Then in the same let me also,
Now bear a part of suchlike Woe:
Kind Matthew Shore, Men called me,
A Goldsmith once of good Degree,

And might have lived long therein,
Had not my Wife been wed to Sin:
Ah! gentle Jane, thy wanton Race,
Hath brought me to this foul Disgrace.

Thou hadst all things at wish and will,
Thy wanton Fancy to fulfil,
No London Dame, nor Merchant's Wife,
Did lead so sweet and pleasant Life:

Then gentle Jane, the Truth report,
Why left'st thou me to live in Court?
Thou hadst both Gold and Silver store,
No Wife in London then had more;

And once a Week to walk in Field,
To see what pleasure it would yield.
But woe to me that Liberty,
Hath brought me to this Misery:

I married thee whilst thou wert young,
Before thou knew'st what did belong,
To Husband's Love, or Marriage state
Which now my Soul repents too late:

Thus wanton Pride made thee Unjust,
And so deceived was my Trust.
But when the King possest my room,
And cropt my rosie gallant Bloom,

Fair Londons Blossom, and my Joy,
My heart was drown'd in deep annoy,
To think how unto publique Shame,
Thy wicked Life brought my good Name.

And then I thought each Man and Wife,
In jesting sort accus'd my Life;
And everyone to the other said,
That Shores fair Wife the Wanton plaid;

Thereby in mind I grew to change
My Dwelling in some Country strange,
My Lands and Goods I sold away,
And so from England went to Sea;

Opprest with Grief and woful Mind,
But left my Cause of Grief behind:
My loving Wife whom I once thought,
Would never be to Lewdness brought;

But Women now I well espy,
Are subject to Unconstancy;
And few there be so true of Love,
But by long suit will wanton prove;

For Flesh is frail, and Women weak,
When Kings for Love long suit to make.
But yet from England my Depart,
Was with a sad and heavy Heart,

Whereat when as my Leave I took,
I sent back many heavy look,
Desiring God, if it might be,
To send one sigh, sweet Jane, to thee!

For if thou hadst but constant been,
These days of Woe I ne'r had seen,
But yet I mourn and grieve full sore,

To think what Plagues are left in store,

For such as careless tread awry,
The modest Paths of Constancy:
Ah! gentle Jane, if thou did'st know,
The uncouth Paths I daily go,

And woful Tears for thee I shed,
For wronging thus my Marriage-bed,
Then sure I am thou would'st confess,
My Love was sure though in Distress:

Both Flanders, France, and Spain I past,
And came to Turky at the last;
And there within that mighty Court,
I lived long in honest sort;

Desiring God, that sits in Heaven,
That Lovers Sins might be forgiven,
And there advanc'd thy loving Name,
Of living Wights the fairest Dame:

The praise of Englands Beauty stain,
All which thy Husband did maintain,
And set thy Picture there in Gold,
For Kings and Princes to behold.

But when I thought upon thy Sin,
Thy wanton thoughts delighted in,
I griev'd that such a comely Face,
Should hold true Honour in Disgrace,

And counted it a Luckless-day,
When as thou first did'st go AStray,
Desiring then some News to hear,
Of her my Soul did love so dear,

My Secrets then I did impart,
To one well skill'd in Magick Art,
Who in a Glass did truly show,
Such things as I desir'd to know:

I there did see thy Courtly State,
Thy Pomp, thy Pride, thy Glory great,
And likewise there I did behold,
My Jane in Edwards Arms infold:

Thy secret Love I there espy'd,
Thy Rice, thy Fall, and how thou died;
Thy naked Body in the Street,
I saw do Pennce in a Sheet;

Barefoot before the Beadle's Wand,
With burning Taper in thy Hand,
And Babes, not having use of Tongue,
Stood pointing as thou went'st along.

Thus ended was the Shame of thine,
Though God gave yet no end to mine:
When I suppos'd my Name forgot,
And time had washt away my Blot,

And in another Prince's Reign,
I came to England back again:
But staying there, my Friends decay'd,
My Prince's Laws I disobey'd,

And by tue Justice judg'd to dye,
For Clipping Gold in secresie:
By Gold was my best Living made,
And so by Gold my Life decay'd:

Thus have you heard the woful Strife,
That came by my Unconstant Wife,
Her Fall, my Death, wherein is shew'd,
The Story of a Strumpet lewd;
In hope thereby some Women may,
Take heed how they the Wanton play.


Printed by and for W.O. and sold by C. Bates, at the Sun and Bible in Pye-corner.

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