Sidor som bilder

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;


"Forgoe me now, come to me soone.'

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Accepts he night, or grants shee noone?
Left he her a mayd

Or not? She sayd,



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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.

And while he did in chase remaine,
To see both sport and playe,
His ladye went, as she did feigne,
Unto the church to praye.


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"Go home, sweet daughter, I thee praye,


Go hasten presentlie,

And tell unto the master-cook

These wordes that I tell thee.

“And bid him dresse to dinner streight

That faire and milk-white doe

That in the park doth shine so bright,
There's none so faire to showe.'


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You needes must dresse the milk-white doe,

Which you do knowe full well."

Then streight his cruell bloodye hands,


Who quivering and shaking stands,

He on the ladye layd;

While thus to her he sayd:

"Thou art the doe that I must dresse;

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"Now sit you downe," his ladye sayd,
"O sit you downe to meat;
Into some nunnery she is gone;
Your daughter deare forget."


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Then all in blacke this lord did mourne,
And for his daughters sake,

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He judged her cruell step-mothèr
To be burnt at a stake.

Likewise he judg'd the master-cook

In boiling lead to stand,

And made the simple scullion-boye
The heire of all his land.



The Hue and Cry after Cupid.

This song is a kind of translation of a pretty poem of Tasso's, called Amore fuggitivo, generally printed with his Aminta, and originally imitated from the first Idyllium of Moschus.

It is extracted from Ben Jonson's Masque at the marriage of Lord Viscount Hadington, on Shrove-Tuesday, 1608. One stanza, full of dry mythology, is here omitted, as it had been dropt in a copy of this song printed in a small volume, called Le Prince d'Amour. Lond. 1660. 8vo.

BEAUTIES, have yee seen a toy,
Called Love, a little boy,
Almost naked, wanton, blinde;
Cruel now, and then as kinde?
If he bee amongst yee, say;
He is Venus' run away.

Shee, that will but now discover
Where the winged wag doth hover,
Shall to-night receive a kisse,

How, and where herselfe would wish:
But who brings him to his mother
Shall have that kisse, and another.

Markes he hath about him plentie;
You may know him among twentie;
All his body is a fire,

And his breath a flame entire,

Which being shot, like lightning, in,




Wounds the heart but not the skin.

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