92 96 100 104 'ffarwell, ffarwell 1000 times, my children deere ! tis long of me, your sad and wofull mother heere, you might haue liued in happy case, but you must dye for my vnworthynesse! 4 & to their ffather my complaints expresse!" Hee tooke the children; vnto 6 his Noble Master he brought them both with speed, who secrett sent them vnto a noble Ladye to bee brought vp indeed. then to ffaire Grissell with a heauy hart hee goes a pleasant gesture & a louelye looke shee showes, 112 sweet Grissell, now declare thy mind to mee." 13 fitt. both I and mine att your comand wilbee." bids them farewell, tells them they're to die because she's of low blood, and bids the messenger repeat her plaints to her husband. He takes them to the Marquis, who sends them to a lady to be brought up, and then he goes to Grissell (who receives him pleasantly), says the children are slain; what does it ? pleases you, "My Nobles murmure, ffaire Girssell, at thy honour, Then he tells in her plain grey frock, and be his wife no more. The tears come to her eyes, but she says nothing, takes off her velvet gown, puts on her russet one, kisses her husband, 120 1 thou must be stript out of thy garments all, & as thou camest vnto 2 mee, 3 in homely gray, instead of bisse 3 & purest pall, My Lady thou shalt be no more, nor I thy Lord, which greeues me sore. the poorest liffe must now content thy mind; 124 a groate to thee I may 5 not giue 128 132 to maintaine thee while I liue 7: against my Grissell such great ffoes I ffind." When gentle Grissell had hard this wofull tydings, the teares stood in her eyes. she nothing answered, no words of disconte[nt]ment 10 did ffrom her lipps arrise; her veluett gowne most pitteouslye shee slipped of,11 her kirtle of silke with the same. her russett gowne was browght againe with many a scoffe: to bere 12 them all,13 her selfe shee did fframe. when shee was drest in this array, 136 and readye was 14 to part 15 away, 140 "god send long liue vnto my Lord!" quoth shee, "Let no Offence be ffound in this, to giue my Lord a parting kisse." with wattered 16 eyes, "ffarwell, my deare!" quoth hee.17 144 148 1 ffrom statelye pallace, vnto her ffathers cottage poore Grissell now 2 is gone. ffull 15 winters shee liued there contented; no wrong shee thought vpon; & att that time through all the Land the Speeches went, the Marquesse shold marryed bee vnto a Ladye great of hye discent; agree. & to the same all partyes did 5 the bryds bedchamber to prepare, that nothing therin shold 6 bee ffound awrye. 152 the bryde was withe her brother come, 156 160 which was great Ioy to all & some: 7 & Grissell tooke all this most patyentlye. 8 her patyence now 9 was tryde: 10 Gr[i]ssell was chargd, her-selfe in princely mannour most willingly shee gaue consent vnto 11 the sam[e:] & presentlye the noble Marquesse thither came 168 15 wonderous coy." “god send Lord Marquesse many yeeres of Ioy!" Princely.-O.B. 2 she.-O.B. 3 this.-O.B. 5 O.B. omits did.-F. Might.-O.B. 9 as.-O.B. 9 there.-O.B. 10 friendly.-O.B. 11 to do.-O.B. 12 O.B. omits her.-F. 13 will.-O.B. and goes to her father's cottage. There she stays 15 years, and is then sent for to prepare the Marquis's new wife's room, [page 498] and dress her for her wedding. Grissell dresses the bride; and then the Marquis asks her if she agrees to the match. She wishes him many happy years. 14 If to this Match thou wilt.-O.B. 15 waxed.-O.B. 16 reply'd.-O.B. 172 176 The Marquesse was moued to see his best beloued he stept vnto her, & by the hand he tooke her; these words he did expresse : "thou art the bryde, & all the brydes I meane to haue! these 2 thine owne children bee!" the youthfull [Lady] 2 on her knees did blessing craue; her brother as willing 3 as shee;— 4 whom I haue made my louing mate, Now blush ffor shame, & honour vertuous liffe ! 180 the chronicles of Lasting ffame shall euermore extoll the name of patyent Grissell, my most patyent 5 wiffe!" ff[inis.] 4 chosen.-O.B. 5 constant.-O.B. Scroope & Browne: THIS piece was manifestly written by a professional hand. Dolorous and tragic incidents which now form the subjects of newspaper paragraphs were in old pre-public-press day reported, with such graceful varieties of narrative as might seem expedient, by vagrant versifiers. The ballad-writer of James I.'s time performed the functions of the penny-a-liner of our day. Some such grievous duel as that described in the following piece may probably enough have been fought not far from the Tweed early in the seventeenth century, and this be the ryming news-monger's account of it. There is a certain reality about the narration, which cannot be attributed to the art of the narrator. It is evidently an event that actually transpired which he celebrates. His artistic merit is sufficiently indicated by the morals he appends to his story. He belongs to the Ouros ππоs school. 8 12 IN: Barwicke Low,' as late beffell, the great discourse that did begin Betwixt 2 youthes of gentle blood. as they were walking all alone, they wrought their wills as they thought good, The one hight Scroope, as I heard tell, betwixt these 2 itt soe beffell, that hand to hand thé made affray. 1? Berwick Low, a hill near Berwick.-H. At Berwick a sad mishap befell between two well-born youths, Scroope and Browne. 2 Qu. MS.-F. |