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Of a prince of England, who wooed the Kings daughter of France, and how he was slaine, and she after marred to a Forrester

To the tune of Crimson velvet.
IN the dayes of old,
when faire France did flourish;
Stories plainly told.
louers felt annoy.
The King a Daughter had,
Beautious, bright, and louely,
Which made her Father glad,
she was his only ioy.
A Prince of England came,
Whose deeds did merit fame:
he wooed her long, and loe at last,
Looke what he did require,
She granted his desire,
their hearts in one were linked fast.
Which when her Father proued,
Lord how he was moued,
and tormented in his mind:
He sought for to preuent them,
And to discontent them:
fortune crosses Louers kind.
When the Princes twaine,
Were thus bard of pleasure,
Through the Kings disdaine,
which their ioyes withstood,
The Lady got vp close,
Her iewels and her treasure,
Hauing no remorse,
of state or royall Bloud.
In homely poore array,
She went from Court away,
to meet her ioy and hearts delight:
Who in a Forrest great,
Had taken vp his seat;
to wait her comming in the night.
But see what sudden danger,
To this Princely stranger,
chanced as he sate alone,
By out-lawes was he robbed,
And with ponyards stabbed,
vttering many a dying groane.
The Princesse arm’d by him,
And by true desire:
Wandring all the night,
without dread at all.
Still vnknowne she passed,
In her strange attire,
Comming at the last,
in the echoes call.
You faire woods (quoth she)
Honoured may you be,
harbouring my hearts delight,
Which doth compasse here,
My ioy and only deere,
my trusty friend and Knight.
Sweet I come vnto thee,
Sweet I come to woe thee,
that thou maist not angry be;
For my long delaying,
And thy courteous staying,
amends for all Ile make to thee.
Passing thus alone,
Through the silent Forrest
Many a grieuous groan,
sounded in her eares:
Where she heard a man,
To lament the sorest,
Chance that euer came,
forced by deadly strife:
Farewell my deare (quoth he)
Whom I shall neuer see:
for why my life is at an end,
Through villaines cruelty,
Lo here for thee I dye,
to shew I am a faithfull friend,
Here I ly a bleeding,
While my thoughts are feeding,
on thy dearest beauty found;
O hard hap that may be,
Litle knowes my Lady,
my heart bloud lyes on the ground.
With that he gaue a groane,
Which did burst in sunder,
All the tender strings
of his bleeding heart.
She which knew his voice,
At his tale did wonder:
All her former ioys
did to griefe conuert.
Straight she ran to see,
Who this man should be,
that so like her loue did speake:
And found when as she came,
Her louely Lord lay slaine,
all smear’d in bloud, which life did breake.
When this deed she spied,
Lord how sore she cryed:
Her sorrow cannot counted be,
Her eyes like fountaines running,
Whiles she cryed out my darling,
Would God that I had dyed for thee.
His pale lips alas,
Twenty times she kissed,
And his face did wash,
with her trickling teares;
Euery bleeding wound,
Her faire eyes bedewed,
Wiping off the bloud
with her golden haire.
Speak my Lord (quoth she)
Speake faire Prince, to me,
One sweet word of comfort giue:
Lift vp thy faire eyes,
Listen to my cryes,
think in what great griefe I liue.
All in vaine she sued,
All in vaine she wooed,
the Princes life was dead and gone,
There stood she still mourning,
Till the Sunnes returning,
and bright day was comming on.
In this great distresse,
(Quoth the royall Lady)
Who can now expresse,
what will become of me?
To my Fathers Court,
Will I neuer wander,
But some seruice take,
where I might placed be:
Whilst thus she made her mone,
Weeping all alone,
all in dread and dreadfull feare.
A Forrester all in greene,
Most comely to be seene,
ranging the woods did find her there,
Round beset with sorrow,
Maid (quoth he) good morrow,
what hard hap hath brought you here:
Harder hap did neuer,
Chance to a maiden euer,
here lies slaine my brother deare.
Where might I be placed,
Gentle Forrester, tell me:
Where should I procure
a seruice in my need.
Paines I will not spare,
But will do my duty,
Ease me of my care,
help my extreme need.
The Forrester all amazed,
On her beauty gazed,
till his heart was set on fire.
If faire Maide (quoth he)
You will go with me,
You shall haue your hearts desire.
He brought her to his mother,
And aboue all other,
he sets forth this maidens praise:
Long was his heart enflamed,
At last her loue he gained:
thus did he his glory raise.
Thus vnknowne he matched,
With the Kings faire Daughter:
Children seuen he had,
ere she to him was knowne:
But when he vnderstood,
She was a royall Princesse,
By this meanes at last,
he shewed forth her fame:
He cloath’d his Children then,
Not like other men,
in party colours strange to see:
The left side cloth of Gold,
The right side to behold,
of woollen cloth still framed he.
Men hereat did wonder,
Golden fame did thunder
this strange deed in euery place.
The King of France came thither,
Being pleasant weather,
in the woods the Hart to chase.
The children then did stand,
As their Father willed,
Where the Royall King,
must of force come by.
Their Mother richly clad
In faire Crimson veluet:
Their Father all in gray,
comely to the eye.
Then the famous King,
Noted euery thing,
asking how he durst be so bold,
To let his wife to weare,
And decke his children there,
in costly robes, in cloth of gold.
The forrester bold replyed,
And the cause descried,
to the King thus did he say:
Well may they by their Mother,
Weare rich gold like other,
being by birth a Princesse gay.
The King vpon these words,
More heedfully beheld them:
Till a Crimson blush,
his conceit did crosse.
The more I looke, he said,
On thy wife and children,
The more I call to mind,
my Daughter whom I lost.
I am that Child (quoth she)
Falling on her knee,
pardon me my Soueraigne Liege.
The King perceiuing this,
His daughter deare did kisse
and ioyfull teares did stop his speech:
With his traine he turned,
And with her soiourned;
straight way he dub’d her husband knight,
Then made him Earle of Flanders,
One of his chiefe Commanders:
thus was their sorrow put to flight.

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Of a prince of England, who wooed the Kings daughter of France, and how he was slaine, and she after marred to a Forrester - THOMAS DELONEY