Joy and true prosperity go still with thee !'. The like fall unto thy share, most fair lady!' BALLAD VI. THE LADY'S FALL. MARK well my heavy doleful tale, And heedfully bear in your breast A gallant lady's fall. Long was she woo'd, ere she was won To taste a wedded life, But folly wrought her overthrow, Before she was a wife. Too soon, alas! she gave consent So that, with many a sorrowful sigh, And so put on her silken gown, Unto her lover, secretly, Her grief she did bewray, And, walking with him hand in hand, By love reduc'd to woe ; Behold I go with child by thee, 'But none thereof doth know. The little babe springs in my womb, To hear the father's voice 'Let it not be a bastard call'd, Sith I made thee my choice: 'Come, come, my love, perform thy vow, And wed me out of hand; O leave me not in this extreme, 'In grief always to stand! Think on thy former promise made, Thy vows and oaths each one ; • Remember with what bitter tears To me thou mad'st thy moan. Convey me to some secret place, And marry me with speed; 'Or with thy rapier end my life, Ere further shame proceed.' Alas! my dearest love, (quoth he) 'Which way can I convey thee hence, • Without a sudden death? Thy friends they be of high degree, And I of mean estate; • Full hard it is to get thee forth Out of thy father's gate.' Oh! do not fear to save my fame, For if thou taken be, 'Myself will step between the swords, 'What could they say, but that true love, 'Had wrought a lady's bane? And fear not any further harm; • That I will ride away with thee, And there (quoth he) I'll meet thee, And this day month, without all fail, They parted presently, And at their parting, brinish tears Stood in each other's eye. At length the wish'd-for day was come, When any person she espied Come riding o'er the plain, She thought it was her own true love, Then did she weep and sore bewail Then did she speak these woeful words, 'O false, forsworn, and faithless wretch, Disloyal to thy love; Hast thou forgot thy promise made, • And wilt thou perjur'd prove? And hast thou now forsaken me, Which thou might'st well redress? "Woe worth the time I did believe 'That flattering tongue of thine ; • Would God that I had never seen The tears of thy false eyne!' And thus, with many a sorrowful sigh, No rest came in her watery eyes, In travail strong she fell that night, What woeful pangs she then did feel, She called up her waiting-maid, • Let none bewail my wretched state, 'O mistress, call your mother dear, ⚫ Call not my mother, for thy life, 'The midwife's help comes all too late, With that the babe sprang in her womb, No creature being nigh; And with a sigh, which brake her heart, This gallant dame did die. Next morning came her lover true, And he for sorrow slew himself, Whom each one did accuse. |