After her Catherine Parr,

Made he queen, made he queen,
Late wife to Lord Latimer,

Brave English baron.

This lady of renown

Deserved not a frown,

Whilst Henry wore the crown
Of thrice famous England.

Six royal queens you see,
Gallant dames, gallant dames,
At command married he,
Like a great monarch:
Yet lives his famous name,
Without spot or defame;
From royal kings he came,
Whom all the world fear'd.

BALLAD XXVI.

Of a wealthy Merchant, who forgetting his profit, gave his mind to pleasure.*

*

A MERCHANT of great riches dwelt
In Surria,† (as I read,)

Whose yearly traffic to the Cair, ‡

Full well suffic'd his need:

[From Anthony Munday's Banquet of Daintie Conceits,' printed in 1588. It is directed to be sung after a pleasant new tune called Prima Visto.' See the Harleian Miscellany, vol. ix, p. 221.]

+ [Qu.-Syria?]

[Perhaps, Cairo ?]

6

For, bringing precious stones from thence

The profit rose so much,

(By his account unto himself)
As very few had such.

This merchant, to give greater grace

To jewels of such price,
Compounded with a skilful man,

Both excellent and wise,

To sett these stones in finest gold,
Agreeing, by the day,

(Because he should not slack his work,)
A certain sum to pay.

This cunning workman every day
Applied his business well;

And every night receiv'd his wage: *.

At last it so befel;

Unto the Merchant's house was brought

A goodly instrument,

Which, for the beauty and the sound,
Did highly him content.

The workman (as his custom was)

Unto his business came :

When as the Merchant took the harp,

And showed him the same;

His skill in music being great,
Did take the instrument;

Demanding, if that he should play ?

The Merchant was content.

So sweetly did he play thereon,
And with such rare delight,
That thus he wasted forth the day,
Until it was dark night.
Then for his duty* he doth call,
And as much doth require,
As if he had apply'd his work,
Serving for daily hire.

The Merchant says, 'he had not wrought,
'But played all the day :'—
The workman says, you did command;
Then I must needs obey.
Your bargain is for daily wage :-

All day I have been here,

‹ And done what you commanded me ; My wages then is clear.'

In brief, they fell so much at square,
And so far did proceed,

That by the judges of the town,
Sentence must be decreed:

Which was against the Merchant flat

And so much he must pay

The workman, as if he had wrought
And labour'd all the day.

The Merchant scant digested this,

That he so much must pay :

And might have gotten twice so much

If he had wrought all day.

[Duty is here put for pay; according to the legal stipulation.]

His folly now he doth repent,

And bids such gauds, farewell!

He finds more sweetness in the nut
Than in the outward shell.

BALLAD XXVII.

THE FAIRIES' FAREWELL, OR GOD-A-MERCY WILL.

To be sung or whistled to the tune of The Meddow Brow,' by the learned; by the unlearned, to the tune of 'Fortune.'

FAREWELL, rewards and fairies!"

Good house-wives now may say:

For now foul sluts in dairies

Do fare as well as they ;

And though they sweep their hearths no less
Than maids were wont to do,

Yet who of late for cleanliness

Finds six-pence in her shoe?

* [Dr. Percy observes that this humorous old song fell from the hand of the witty bishop of Norwich, and was printed in his 'Poetica Stromata,' 1648, and in the third edition of his poems, 1672. The former of these, from its internal evidence, is regarded by Mr. Gilchrist (in his own much improved edition) as published under the eye of the bishop's family. Bishop Corbet died in 1635, at the age of 52.]

Lament, lament, old abbies,

The fairies' lost command: *

They did but change priest's babies,
But some have chang'd your land:
And all your children stol'n from thence
Are now grown Puritans,
Who live as changelings ever since,

For love of your demains.

At morning and at evening both,
You merry were and glad,
So little care of sleep and sloth,
These pretty ladies had.

When Tom came home from labour,
Or Ciss to milking rose,

Then merrily went their tabor,
And nimbly went their toes.

Witness those rings and roundelays
Of theirs, which yet remain,
Were footed in queen Mary's days
On many a grassy plain.
But since of late Elizabeth,
And later James came in ;
They never danc'd on any heath,
As when the time hath been.

By which we note, the fairies

Were of the old profession;

* The departure of fairies is here attributed to the abolition of monkery. Chaucer has, with equal humour, assigned a cause the very reverse in his Wife of Bath's Tale.' Percy.