Strange Histories, or, Songes and Sonets, of Kings, Princes, Dukes, Lordes, Ladyes, Knights, and Gentlemen ::

VVhen as King Henrie rul'd this land,
the second of that name,
(Beside the Queene) he dearely loued
a faire and princely Dame:
Most peerelesse was her beautie found,
her fauour and her face:
A sweeter creature in this world,
did neuer Prince imbrace.

Her crisped locks like threedes of gold,
appeared to each mans sight,
Her comely eyes like orient Pearles,
did cast a heauenly light:
The blood within her christall cheekes,
did such a cullour driue,
As though the Lilly and the Rose
for maistership did striue.

Yea Rosamond, faire Rosamond,
her name was called so,

To whom Dame Elinor our Queene,
was knowne a cruell foe:
The King therefore for her defence,
against the furious Queene,
At Woodstocke buylded such a Bower
the like was neuer seene.

Most curiously that Bower was buylt
of Stone and Timber strong:
A hundred and fiftie Doores,
did to that Bower belong:
And they so cunningly contriu'd
with turning round about,
That none, but by a Clew of threed,
could enter in or out.

And for his Loue and Ladyes sake,
that was so faire and bright,
The keeping of his Bower he gaue
vnto a valiant Knight.
But Fortune, that doth often frowne,
where she before did smile,
The Kinges delight, the Ladyes ioy,
full soone she did beguile.

For why? the Kings vngratious sonne,
whom he did high aduance,

Against his Father raysed Warres
within the realme of France.
But yet, before our comely king,
the English land forsooke,
Of Rosamond his Lady faire,
his fare-well thus he tooke.

My Rosamond, my onely Rose
that pleaseth best mine eye:
The fairest Rose in all the world,
to feed my fantasie:
The Flower of my affected heart,
whose sweetnes doth excell
My royall Rose, a hundred times,
I bid thee now farewell.

For I must leaue my fairest Flower,
my sweetest Rose, a space,
And crosse the seas to famous Fraunce,
proude Rebels to abace:
But yet my Rose, be sure thou shalt
my comming shortly see:
And in my heart, while hence I am,
Ile beare my Rose with mee.

When Rosamond, that Lady bright,
did heare the King say so,

The sorrow of her greeued heart,
her outward lookes did show.
And from her cleere and christall eyes,
the teares gusht out apace,
Which like the siluer pearled deaw
ran nowne her comely face.

Her lippes like to a Corrall red,
did waxe both wan and pale,
And for the sorrow she conceiud,
her vitall spirits did fayle.
And falling downe all in a sound,
before king Henries face,
Full oft betweene his princely armes,
her corpes he did imbrace.

And twenty times with waterie eyes,
he kist her tender cheeke,
Uniill she had receiued againe
her senses milde and meeke.
why grieues my Rose, my sweetest Rose?
(the king did euer say)
Because (quoth she) to bloody warres
my Lord must part away.

But sith your Grace in forraine coastes,
among your foes vnkind,

Must go to hazard life and limme,
why should I stay behind?
Nay, rather let me like a Page,
your Shield and Target beare,
That on my breast that blow may light,
which should annoy you there.

O let me in your royall Tent,
prepare your Bed at night,
And with sweet Baths refresh your grace
at your returne from fight.
So I your presence may enioy,
no toyle I must refuse:
But wanting you, my life is death,
which doth true loue abuse.

Content thy selfe, my dearest friend,
thy rest at home shall bee:
In England sweete and pleasant soyle,
for trauaile fits not thee.
Faire Ladyes brooke not bloody warres
sweete peace their pleasures breede,
The nourisher of hearts content,
which Fancie first doth feede.

My Rose shall rest in Woodstock bower,
with Musickes sweete delight,

While I among the pierceing Pikes,
against my foes do fight,
My Rose in Robes and Pearles of gold
with diamonds richly dight.
Shall daunce the galliards of my loue,
while I my foes do smite.

And you Sir Thomas, whom I trust
To beare my Loues defence:
Be carefull of my gallant Rose,
when I am parted hence.
And therewithall he fetcht a sigh,
as though his heart would breake:
And Rosamond for inward griefe,
not one plaine word could speake.

And at their parting well they might
in heart be grieued sore,
After that day faire Rosamond
the King did see no more:
For when his Grace had past the seas.
and into France was gone,
Queene Elinor with enuious heart,
to Woodstocke came anone.

And foorth she cald this trusty Knight,
which kept the curious Bower,

Who with his Clew of twined threed,
came from that famous flower
And when that they had wounded him,
the Queene his Threed did get,
And went where Lady Rosamond
was like an Angell set.

But when the Queene with stedfast eye
beheld her heauenly face,
She was amazed in her minde,
at her exceeding grace.
Cast off from thee thy Robes she sayd,
that rich and costly be.
And drinke thou vp this deadly draught
which I haue brought for thee.

But presently vpon her knees,
sweet Rosamond did fall,
And pardon of the Queene she crau'd,
for her offences all.
Take pittie of my youthfull yeares,
faire Rosamond did cry,
And let me not with Poyson strong,
inforced be to die.

I will renounce this sinfull life,
and in a Cloyster bide:

Or else be banisht, if you please,
to range the world so wide.
And for the fault which I haue done,
though I was forst thereto:
Preserue my life, and punish me,
as you thinke good to do.

And with these words, her lilly hands,
she wrang full often there:
And downe along her louely cheekes
proceeded many a teare.
But nothing could this furious Queene
therewith appeased bee,
The cup of deadly Poyson filld.
as she sat on her knee.

She gaue the comely Dame to drinke,
who tooke in her hand,
And from her bended knee arose,
and on her feet did stand:
And casting vp her eyes to heauen,
she did for mercy call,
And drinking vp the Poyson then,
her life she lost withall,

And when that Death through euery lim,
had done his greatest spite,

Her chiefest foes did plaine confesse,
she was a glorious wight.
Her body then they did intombe,
when life was fled away,
At Godstow, neere Oxford towne,
as may be seene this day.

FINIS.

University of Virginia Library

A mournefull Dittie on the death of faire Rosamond, King Henrie the seconds Concubine.

Cant. 11.