Where may I remaine, Gentle for'ster, shew me, Till I can obtaine A service in my neede? Paines I will not spare: This kinde favour doe me, It will ease my care; Heaven shall be thy meede." The for'ster all amazed, On her beautye gazed, Till his heart was set on fire. 'If, faire maid,' quoth hee, 'You will goe with mee, You shall have your hearts desire.' He brought her to his mother, And above all other He sett forth this maidens praise. 145 150 155 Long was his heart inflamed, At length her love he gained, And fortune crown'd his future dayes. 160 Thus unknowne he wedde With a kings faire daughter; Children seven they had, Ere she told her birth. Which when once he knew, Humblye he besought her, He to the world might shew In partye-colours strange to sce; The left side to behold, 165 170 Of woollen cloth still framed hee. 1 Golden fame did thunder This strange deede in every place: In those woods the hart to chase. The children then they bring, So their mother will'd it, Must of force come bye: Noting every thing, Askt how he durst be so bold To let his wife soe weare, And decke his children there In costly robes of pearl and gold. The forrester replying, And the cause descrying,2 To the king these words did say, 'Well may they, by their mother, Weare rich clothes with other, Being by birth a princesse gay.' 175 180 185 190 195 200 1 This will remind the reader of the livery and device of Charles Brandon, a private gentleman, who married the Queen Dowager of France, sister of Henry VIII. At a tournament which he held at his wedding, the trappings of his horse were half cloth of gold, and half frieze, with the following Motto: 'Cloth of Gold, do not despise, Tho' thou art matcht with Cloth of Frize; Cloth of Frize, be not too bold, Tho' thou art matcht with Cloth of Gold.' See Sir W. Temple's Misc. vol. III. p. 356.—2 i.e. describing. See Gloss. The king aroused thus, More heedfullye beheld them, His remembrance crost. On thy wife and children, 'I am that child,' quoth shee; Pardon mee, my soveraine liege.' The king perceiving this, His daughter deare did kiss, 205 210 While joyfull teares did stopp his speeche. With his traine he tourned, And with them sojourned. Strait he dubb'd her husband knight; Then made him erle of Flanders, 215 And chiefe of his commanders: Thus were their sorrowes put to flight. 220 ** XVII. THE SWEET NEGLECT. This little Madrigal (extracted from Ben Jonson's Silent Woman, Act 1. Sc. 1. first acted in 1609,) is in imitation of a Latin poem printed at the end of the Variorum Edit. of Petronius, beginning, 'Semper munditias, semper Basilissa, decoras, &c.' See Whalley's Ben Jonson, vol. II. p. 420. STILL to be neat, still to be drest, As you were going to a feast: Though art's hid causes are not found, 5 Give me a looke, give me a face, That strike mine eyes, but not my heart. XVIII. THE CHILDREN IN THE WOOD. 10 The subject of this very popular ballad (which has been set in so favourable a light by the Spectator, No. 85.) seems to be taken from an old play, intitled, 'Two lamentable Tragedies; The one of the murder of Maister Beech, a chandler in Thames-streete, &c. The other of a young child murthered in a wood by two ruffins, with the consent of his unkle. By Rob. Yarrington, 1601, 4to.' Our ballad-maker has strictly followed the play in the description of the father and mother's dying charge: in the uncle's promise to take care of their issue: his hiring two ruffians to destroy his ward, under pretence of sending him to school: their choosing a wood to perpetrate the murder in: one of the ruffians relenting, and a battle ensuing, &c. In other respects, he has departed from the play. In the latter the scene is laid in Padua: there is but one child: which is murdered by a sudden stab of the unrelenting ruffian: he is slain himself by his less bloody companion; but ere he dies gives the other a mortal wound: the latter living just long enough to impeach the uncle; who, in consequence of this impeachment, is arraigned and executed by the hand of justice, &c. Whoever compares the play with the ballad, will have no doubt but the former is the original: the language is far more obsolete, and such a vein of simplicity runs through the whole performance, that, had the ballad been written first, there is no doubt but every circumstance of it would have been received into the drama: whereas this was probably built on some Italian novel. Printed from two ancient copies, one of them in black-letter in the Pepys Collection. It's title at large is, The Children in the Wood: or, the Norfolk Gentleman's Last Will and Testamert: To the tune of Rogero, &c.'1 Now ponder well, you parents deare, These wordes, which I shall write; A doleful story you shall heare, In time brought forth to light. 'Some antiquaries find an earlier date for this ballad (1595). Sharɔn Turner conjectures it to have been written with a secret reference to Richard III. and his nephews.-ED. A gentleman of good account In Norfolke dwelt of late, Who did in honour far surmount Most men of his estate. Sore sicke he was, and like to dye, And both possest one grave. No love between these two was lost, Each was to other kinde, In love they liv'd, in love they dyed, And left two babes behinde: The one a fine and pretty boy, Not passing three yeares olde; The other a girl more young than he, As plainlye doth appeare, When he to perfect age should come, And to his little daughter Jane Ere they to age should come, Their uncle should possesse their wealth; For so the wille did run. 'Now, brother,' said the dying man, 'Look to my children deare; 5 10 15 20 25 30 |