THIS ballad is given from an old blackletter copy in the Pepys Collection, collated with another in the British Museum, H. 263, folio. It is there entitled, "The Lady Isabella's Tragedy, or the Step-Mother's Cruelty: being a relation of a lamentable and cruel murther, committed on the body of the Lady Isabella, the only daughter of a noble Duke, &c. To the tune of, The Lady's Fall." To some copies are annexed eight more modern stanzas, entitled, "The Dutchess's and Cook's Lamentation."

THERE was a lord of worthy fame, And a hunting he would ride,

Attended by a noble traine

Of gentrye by his side.

Who quivering and shaking stands,

While thus to her he sayd;

THE story of this Ballad seems to be taken from an incident in the domestic history of Charles the Bald, King of France. His daughter Judith was betrothed to Ethelwulph King of England: but before the marriage was consummated, Ethelwulph died, and she returned to France: whence she was carried off by Baldwyn, Forester of Flanders; who, after many crosses and difficulties, at length obtained the king's consent to their marriage, and was made Earl of Flanders. This happened about A. D. 863.-See Rapin, Henault, and the French Historians.

The following copy is given from the Editor's ancient folio MS. collated with another in black-letter in the Pepys Collection, entitled, “An excellent Ballad of a prince of England's courtship to the King of France's daughter, &c. To the tune of Crimson Velvet."

Many breaches having been made in this old song by the hand of time, principally (as might be expected) in the quick returns of the rhyme; an attempt is here made to repair them.

In the dayes of old,

When faire France did flourish,

Storyes plaine have told,

Which when her father proved,
Sorelye he was moved,

And tormented in his minde.
He sought for to prevent them;
And, to discontent them,

Fortune cross'd these lovers kinde.

When these princes twaine
Were thus barr'd of pleasure,
Through the kinges disdaine,
Which their joyes withstoode:
The lady soon prepar'd

Her jewells and her treasure:
Having no regard

For state and royall bloode;
In homelye poore array
She went from court away,

To meet her joye and hearts delight; Who in a forrest great

Had taken up his seat,

To wayt her coming in the night.
But, lo! what sudden danger
To this princely stranger

Chanced, as he sate alone!
By outlawes he was robbed,
And with ponyards stabbed,
Uttering many a dying grone.

The princess, arm'd by love,

And by chaste desire,

All the night did rove

Without dread at all:

Still unknowne she past
In her strange attire;
Coming at the last

Within echoes call,

You faire woods, quoth shee,
Honoured may you bee,

Harbouring my hearts delight;

Lovers felt annoye.