%ISOlat1; %ISOlat2; %ISOnum; %ISOpub; ]> [T]HE / [DE]PUTIES / GHOST: / OR / [An] APPARITION to the / [L]ord of Canterbury in the Tower. / [VVi]th his complaint unto the / wall after the Ghosts departure. / BEING / [A]n Acrostick Anagramme of his / Name. 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 07/05/2021 37538

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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

R43125 WIthout corruption or that corrupted Cave, / From out that body from the head divided, British Library - Bagford Editor none none none none Information in this section of the Source Description refers to the original ballad manuscript. 3: 6 [T]HE / [DE]PUTIES / GHOST: / OR / [An] APPARITION to the / [L]ord of Canterbury in the Tower. / [VVi]th his complaint unto the / wall after the Ghosts departure. / BEING / [A]n Acrostick Anagramme of his / Name. THE DEPUTY'S GHOST: OR An APPARITION to the Lord of Canterbury in the Tower. With his complaint unto the wall after the Ghost's departure. BEING An Acrostic Anagram of his Name. ?-?

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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 7/5/2021 Santa Barbara, California, United States of America Ballads, English 17th century Broadsides, England 17th century 7/5/2021 8:09:12 PM XBallad Fulmer, Elias Created XML Version of Ballad 7/5/2021 8:09:12 PM Transcription Supervisor McCants, Kristen Transcription of ballad manuscript 7/5/2021 8:09:12 PM Double-Key Comparison and Merging McCants, Kristen Transcription of ballad manuscript 7/5/2021 8:09:12 PM Transcriptionist Two Stark, Nicole Transcription of ballad manuscript 7/5/2021 8:09:12 PM Transcriptionist One Pettersson Peeker, Aili Transcription of ballad manuscript 6/24/2019 Bibliographer Kristen McCants Initial Ballad Catalogue Record Created
<seg n="1" rend="left">[<hi rend="italic">T]HE</hi></seg> <seg n="2" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">[DE]PUTIES</hi></seg> <seg n="3" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">GHOS</hi></seg> <seg n="4" rend="left"><hi rend="italic"><hi rend="bold">OR</hi></hi></seg> <seg n="5" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">[An] APPARITION to the</hi></seg> <seg n="6" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">[L]ord of <hi rend="bold">Canterbury</hi> in the <hi rend="bold">Tower.</hi></hi></seg> <seg n="7" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">[W]ith his complaint unto the</hi></seg> <seg n="8" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">[w]all after the Ghosts departure.</hi></seg> <seg n="9" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">BEING</hi></seg> <seg n="10" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">[A]n Acrostick Anagramme of his </hi></seg> <seg n="11" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">Name.</hi></seg>
WIthout corruption or that corrupted Cave, From out that body from the head divided, From mortall life, from death, and from the grave, And from the Elizian by immortals guided, Into the world I come for to reprove thee; Because the World reports that I doe love thee. Proud Prelate, dost thou startle at a shade? What substance have I to make thee affraid, Or art thou fearefull of thy sociat's Ghost, A voyce, a shade, or fancy at the most? Surely your Grace cannot so soon be danted; 'Tis not the first time we have bin acquainted. Why! I am Wentworth, canst thou not abide me? Nay surely then I must begin to chide thee. Oh would i'de been as loathsome in thine eye, When first to Honour I was rais'd so high? Or had I never thy confederate beene, The tree that's fallen might still have flourish't greene: For if i'de never to thy wayes consented, Untimely death had surely beene prevented; Nor had mine Honours at that day beene stained, If I such wicked courses had refrained: Then had my wife her husband still enjoyed, Nor had my childrens father beene destroyed, Whose life was lately tane away by force That longer might have liv'd by Natures course, And yet to dye I truely had deserved, Because with thee, I from the truth had swarved: My Lord, you know, it is a trayterous part, That any man should seeke for to subvert The fundamentall Lawes and Government, Confirmed by the course of Parliament: And yet my Lord you formerly could say, You'd make the proudest Subject to give way To what you lift contrary to the Law, As if you'd make the Kingdome stand in awe Of your great power, such was your foule ambition To pull down truth and set up superstition, And held the power of Prelacy more great Then his that ruleth in the Royall seate: Nay more then that, with threatnings interrupted The Judges, that their Judgements were corrupted; Yet now my Lord, the Law will not forbeare you, Since neither Judge, nor Justice needs to feare you. But stay my Lord, what meane you thus to tremble? Can you not still, with God and man dissemble; They went beyond a Canterbury pace, That ran so fast to overtake your Grace, And yet you see how sudden alterations, Move mighty men with Melancholy passions, I know my Lord when you was in your prime [?]oud not have kept your study halfe this time: Oh no my Lord, you then enjoy'd your pleasure, Your betters then would stand & waite your leisure, The greater sort of persons seem'd to feare you, The poore men durst scarce speak, nor come too ne're you,
But now you see the matter's alter'd quite, They bid you shew the utmost of your spite, And yet my Lord it is not many yeares, They durst to use such speeches for their eares: My Lord as I unseene past through the streets, I see the multitudes of paper sheets, Sent from the Presse, and thus they cry them still, Come buy a booke concerning little Will: In truth, my Lord, if you your freedome had, This were enough to make you run starke mad, Therefore I at your grace doe marvell much, Your love unto the World it should be such, But rather seeke for to be separated From such a world, where you are so much hated: In any place where men abroad doe walke, When dyes the Bishop? thus they use to talke; All which my Lord would be but 9 dayes wonder, If once your head and shoulders were asunder: Alas my Lord why are you loath to dye? You have offended full as much as I. What feare you meeting Bensteads Ghost in Hell? Why? he's in Heaven, for ought that you can tell, And if he be in Heaven, yet never feare, It may be long ere he doe meet you there, And yet methinkes you did but ill in that, To hang the man, and knew not well for what: Hang'd him said I? nay hang and draw and quarter, And yet my Lord, you thinke to dye a Martyr; On London bridge you may behold a Head, How much is't worse then yours, when once you'r dead, And others more my Lord you put in danger, who fear'd the rack, more then they did the manger, And thus my Lord, you see how times can alter, You thought o'th rack, but dream'd not of the halter: Which to yourselfe, I leave you now alone, Unto the wall speake thus, when I am gone. An Anagramme made on the name of William Laud. Wall vild am I, Or Wall I am vild. Wall if thou knew'st thy prisoner were so base, And hadst but sense to understand aright, Long should I not have lived in this place, Lime, wood, & stone would all against me fight, If that I had my just deserved doome, Archbishop once might bid adieu to Rome, Much mischiefe in the Kingdome I have wrought Using the meanes to make my name more great, Into the land I would have Popery brought, Loe here's the downfall of St. Peters seate, Downe with it, downe, this is the peoples cry, I did offend, and therefore I must dye.
FINIS. Printed in the Yeare, of our Prelates feare, 1641.