With that shee turn'd aside,
As one dispos'd to sleep,

And like a lamb departed life :
Whose friends did sorely weep.

Her true love seeing this,

Did fetch a grievous groane,

As tho' his heart would burst in twaine,

And thus he made his moane.

95

100

105

Whose bride was brought unto the grave

A maiden and a wife.

A garland fresh and faire
Of lillies there was made,
In sign of her virginitye,

And on her coffin laid.

Six maidens all in white,

Did beare her to the ground:

The bells did ring in solemn sort,

And made a dolefull sound.

120

125

In earth they laid her then,

For hungry wormes a preye;

130

So shall the fairest face alive

At length be brought to claye.

XIII.

Bulcina.

Given from two ancient copies, one in black-print, in the Pepys collection, the other in the Editor's folio MS. Each of these contained a stanza not found in the other. What seemed the best readings were selected from both.

This song is quoted as very popular in Walton's Compleat Angler, chap. ii. It is more ancient than the ballad of Robin Good-Fellow printed below, which yet is supposed to have been written by Ben Jonson.

As at noone Dulcina rested

In her sweete and shady bower,
Came a shepherd, and requested

In her lapp to sleepe an hour.
But from her looke

A wounde he tooke

Soe deepe, that for a further boone
The nymph he prayes.

Wherto shee sayes,

Forgoe me now, come to me soone.

But in vayne shee did conjure him

To depart her presence soe;

Having a thousand tongues to allure him,
And but one to bid him goe:

5

10

Where lipps invite,

And eyes delight,

And cheekes, as fresh as rose in june,
Persuade delay;

What boots, she say,

Forgoe me now, come to me soone?

He demands what time for pleasure

Can there be more fit than now:

She sayes, night gives love that leysure,
Which the day can not allow.

He sayes, the sight

'Improves delight.

'Which she denies: Nights mirkie noone

In Venus' playes

Makes bold, shee sayes;

15

20

25

Forgoe me now, come to mee soone.

30

But what promise or profession

From his hands could purchase scope?

Who would sell the sweet possession

Of suche beautye for a hope?

Or for the sight

Of lingering night

Foregoe the present joyes of noone?

Though ne'er soe faire

Her speeches were,

35

Forgoe me now, come to me soone.

40

How, at last, agreed these lovers?

Shee was fayre, and he was young:

The tongue may tell what th' eye discovers;
Joyes unseene are never sung.

Did shee consent,

Or he relent;

Accepts he night, or grants shee noone;

Left he her a mayd,

Or not; she sayd

45

Forgoe me now, come to me soone.

50

XIV.

The Lady Isabella's Tragedy.

This ballad is given from an old black-letter 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.