Page:The Lamentable Ditty of the little Mousgrove, and the Lady Barnet (Bod 728).gif

The lamentable Ditto of the little Mouſgrove, and the Lady Barnet.
To an excellent new tune.

As it fell out on a Holy-day,
 as many more be in the year,
Little Mouſgrove would to ye Church & pray,
 to ſee the fair Ladies there.
Gallants there were of good degree,
 for beauty exceeding fair,
Moſt wondrous lovely to the eye,
 that did to the Church repair.

Some came down in red Velvet,
 and others came down in Pall,
The next came down my Lady Barnet,
 the faireſt amongſt them all.
She caſt a look on little Mouſgrove
 as bright as the Summers Sun,
Full well then perceived Little Mouſgrove
 Lady Barnets love he had won.

The Lady Barnet moſt meek and mild,
 ſaluted this little Mouſgrove,
Who did repay her kind courteſie,
 with favour and gentle love.
I have a Bower in merry Barnet,
 beſtrewed with Cowſlips ſweet,
If that it pleaſe you Little Mouſgrove
 in Love me there to meet.

Within my arms one night to ſleep
 for you my heart have won,
You need not fear my ſuſpicious Lord,
 for he from home is gone;
Betide my life betide my death,
 this night I will lye with thee,
And for thy ſake Ile hazard my breath,
 ſo dear is my love to thee.

What ſhall we do with our little foot page,
 our counſell for to keep,
And watch for fear Lord Barnet come,
 while we together ſleep,
Red gold ſhall be his hire quoth he
 and ſilver ſhall be his fee,
So he our counſell ſafely keep,
 that I may ſleep with thee.

I will have none of your gold he ſaid
 nor none of your ſilver fee,
If I ſhould keep your counſell ſir,
 twere great diſloyalty.
I will not be falſe unto my Lord,
 for houſe nor yet for Land,
But if my Lady prove untrue,
 Lord Barnet ſhall underſtand.

Then ſwiftly ran this little foot page,
 unto his Lord with ſpeed,
Who then was feaſting with his own friends
 not dreaming of this ill deed:
Moſt ſpeedily the Page did haſt,
 moſt ſwiftly did he run,
And when he came to the broken bridge,
 he bent his breaſt and ſwum.

The Page did make no ſtay at all,
 but went to the Lord with ſpeed,
That he the truth may ſay to him,
 concerning this wicked deed.
He found his Lord at ſupper then,
 great merriment there they did keep,
My Lord quoth he this night on my word,
 Mouſgrove with your Lady doth ſleep.

If this be true my little foot page
 and true that thou telleſt to me,
My eldeſt daughter Ile give thee
 and wedded thou ſhalt be:
If this be a lye my little foot page
 and a lye thou telleſt to me,
A new pair of Gallows ſhall be ſet up
 and hanged thou ſhalt be.

If this be a lye my Lord ſaid he
 and a lye that thou heareſt from me,
Then never ſtay a Gallows to make,
 but hang me upon the next tree.
Lord Barnet then cal’d up his merry men
 away with ſpeed he would go.
His heart was ſo perplext with grief,
 the truth of this he muſt know.

Saddle your Horſes with ſpeed he ſaid,
 and Saddle me my white Steed.
If this be true as the page hath ſaid
 Mouſgrove ſhall repent this deed.
He charged his men no noiſe to make
 as they rode along on the way,
Nor wind no horn quoth he on your life,
 leaſt our coming it ſhould betray.

But one of them that Mouſgrove did love
 and reſpected his friendſhip moſt dear,
To give him notice Lord Barnet was come,
 did wind the Bugle moſt clear.
And ever more as he did ſound,
 away Mouſgrove and away,
For if he take thee with my Lady,
 then ſlain thou ſhalt be this day.

O hark fair Lady your Lord is near,
 I hear his little horn blow,
And if he find me in your arms thus,
 then ſlain I ſhall be I know.
O lye ſtill lye ſtill little Mouſgrove,
 and keep my back from the cold,
I know it is my fathers ſhepherd,
 driving ſheep unto the pinfold.

Mouſgrove did turn him round about,
 ſweet ſlumber his eyes did greet,
When he did awake he then did eſpy
 Lord Barnet at the beds feet.
O riſe up riſe up little Mouſgrove
 and put thy cloathing on,
It never ſhall be ſaid in fair England
 that I ſlew a naked man.

Heres two good ſwords Lord Barnet ſaid
 the choice Mouſgrove ſhall make,
The beſt of them thy ſelf ſhall have
 and I the worſt will take.
The firſt good blow Mouſgrove did ſtrike
 he wounded Lord Barnet ſore,
The ſecond blow Lord Barnet gave
 Mouſgrove could ſtrike no more.

He took his Lady by the white hand,
 all love to rage convert,
And with his ſword in moſt curious wiſe,
 he pierc’d her tender heart.
A grave a grave Lord Barnet cry’d,
 prepare to lay us in,
My Lady ſhall lye on the upper ſide,
 cauſe ſhe is the better kin.

Then ſuddenly he ſlew himſelf
 which griev’d his friends full ſore
The death of theſe three worthy wights
 with tears they did deplore.
This ſad miſchief by luſt was wrought,
 then let us call for grace,
That we may ſhun this wicked vice,
 and flye from ſin apace.

Printed for F. Coles, T. Vere and W. Gilbertſon.