%ISOlat1; %ISOlat2; %ISOnum; %ISOpub; ]> A Lamentable BALLAD of the Tragical End / OF A / Gallant LORD and Vertuous LADY, / Together with / The Untimely Death of their two CHILDREN; wickedly performed by a / Heathenish and Bloud-thirsty Blackamore, their Servant; the like of which Cruelty and / Murther was never before heard of. 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 07/07/2021 37347

The University of California makes a claim of copyright only to original contributions made by Early Modern Center participants and other members of the university community. The University of California makes no claim of copyright to the original text. Permission is granted to download, transmit or otherwise reproduce, distribute or display the contributions to this work claimed by The University of California for non-profit educational purposes, provided that this header is included in its entirety. For inquiries about commercial uses, please contact:

Patricia Fumerton Early Modern Center - English Department University of California Santa Barbara, CA 93105 United States of America EMail: pfumer@english.ucsb.edu

R179936 1 The Lady's Fall, &c. In Peascod Time The Lady's Fall, etc. IN Rome a Noble man did wed / a Virgin of great Fame, British Library - Bagford Editor none none none none Information in this section of the Source Description refers to the original ballad manuscript. 2: 11 2: 12 A Lamentable BALLAD of the Tragical End / OF A / Gallant LORD and Vertuous LADY, / Together with / The Untimely Death of their two CHILDREN; wickedly performed by a / Heathenish and Bloud-thirsty Blackamore, their Servant; the like of which Cruelty and / Murther was never before heard of. A Lamentable BALLAD of the Tragic End OF A Gallant LORD and Virtuous LADY, Together with The Untimely Death of their two CHILDREN; wickedly performed by a Heathenish and Bloodthirsty Blackamoor, their Servant; the like of which Cruelty and Murder was never before heard of. Printer W.O. ?-? W.O., B. Deacon

This document follows the guidelines specified for TEI.

XML Generated Automatically at 7/7/2021 1:55:06 PM Using EMC

XBallad Parsing Engine developed by Carl G Stahmer.

TEI Template developed by Gerald Egan and Modified by Carl Stahmer

All apostrophes are encoded as '.

Any dashs occurring in line breaks have been removed;

All dashs are encoded as ‐ and all em dashes as —.

 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 7/7/2021 Santa Barbara, California, United States of America Ballads, English 17th century Broadsides, England 17th century 7/7/2021 1:55:06 PM XBallad King, Joyce Created XML Version of Ballad 7/7/2021 1:55:06 PM Transcription Supervisor McCants, Kristen Transcription of ballad manuscript 7/7/2021 1:55:06 PM Double-Key Comparison and Merging Stark, Nicole Transcription of ballad manuscript 7/7/2021 1:55:06 PM Transcriptionist Two McCants, Kristen Transcription of ballad manuscript 7/7/2021 1:55:06 PM Transcriptionist One Anwar, Aisha Transcription of ballad manuscript 5/13/2019 Bibliographer Kristen McCants Initial Ballad Catalogue Record Created
<seg n="1" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">A Lamentable BALLAD of the Tragical End</hi></seg> <seg n="2" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">OF A</hi></seg> <seg n="3" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">Gallant LORD and Vertuous LADY,</hi></seg> <seg n="4" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">Together with</hi></seg> <seg n="5" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">The Untimely Death of their two CHILDREN; wickedly performed by a</hi></seg> <seg n="6" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">Heathenish and Bloud-thirsty Blackamore, their Servant; the like of which Cruelty and</hi></seg> <seg n="7" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">Murther was never before heard of. To the Tune of, <hi rend="bold">The Lady's Fall,</hi> etc.</hi></seg> <lb/> <seg n="8" rend="left">Licens'd and Enter'd according to Order.</seg>
IN Rome a Nobleman did wed a Virgin of great Fame, A fairer Creature never did Dame Nature ever frame; By whom he had two Children fair, whose beauty did excel; They were their Parents only Joy, they loved them both so well. The Lord he lov'd to hunt the Buck, the Tyger and the Boar: And still for Swiftness always took with him a Blackamore; Which Blackamore within the Wood his Lord he did offend; For which he did him then correct, in hope 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, Ahunting he provides to go, straight they were ready all. To cause the Toyl 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 little Babes, with us here still remain. Earewel, dear Children, I will go a fine thing for to buy. But they therewith 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 Blackamore perceiving now, who then did stay behind, His Lord to be ahunting gone, began to call 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 moted round about, the Bridge he up did 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 straight began to fear. But now my trembling Heart it quakes to think what I must write, My Sences all begin to fail, my Soul it doth affright: Yet must I make an end of this, which here I have begun, Which will make sad the hardest Heart, before that I have done: This Wretch unto the Lady went, and her with speed did will, His Lust forthwith to satisfie, his Mind for to fulfil: The Lady she amazed was, to hear the Villian speak; Alas, quoth he, what shall I do? with Grief my heart will break. With that he took her in his Arms, she straight for Help did cry: Content yourself, Lady, he said, your Husband is not nigh: The Bridge is drawn, the Gates are shut, therefore come lye with me, Or else I do protest and vow, 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 perforce with all his might, he threw her on the ground;
With that she shriekt, her Children cry'd, and such a Nose did make, That Towns-folks hearing her Laments, did seek their parts to take: But all in vain, no way was found to help the Lady's need, Who cried to them most piteously, O help, O help with speed. Some run into the Forrest 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 ran to the Wall, he having had his Will, And brought one Child under his Arm, 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 the Lord upon his Knee, and did the Moor intreat, To save the Life of his poor Child, whose Fear was then so great. But this vile Wretch the little Child by both thee heels did take, And dasht his brains against the wall, whilst Parents Hearts did ake: That being done, straightway he ran the other Child to fetch, And pluckt 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 over the wall, saying, Thus dye shall thy Mother; With that he cut the throat of it, then to the Father he did call, To look how he the head did cut, and down the head did fall. This done, he threw it down the wall into the Mote so deep; Which made the Father wring his hands, and grievously to weep:
Then to the Lady went this Rogue, who was near dead with fear, Yet this vile Wretch most cruelly did drag her up by th' hair; And drew her to the very wall; which when her Lord did see, Then presently he cryed out, and fell upon his knee, Quoth he, If thou wilt save her Life, whom I did love so dear; I will forgive thee all is past, though they concern me near. O save her Life, I thee beseech; O save her, I thee 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 of 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, quod this wicked Rogue, and down he let her fall. Which when her gallant Lord did see, his Sences all did fall; Yet many sought to save his Life, yet nothing could prevail. Whenas the Moor did see him dead, then did he laugh amain, At them who for their gallant Lord and Lady did complain: Quoth 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 shall my Body tear, I know it to be true, But i'll prevent you of that pain, 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.
LONDON: Printed by and for W.O. and sold by B. Deacon, at the Angel in Gilt-spur-street.