Transcript: A Lamentable Ballad on the Earl of Essex Death

TRANSCRIPT:

A Lamentable Ballad on the Earl of Essex Dea[th]

The Tune is Essex, last Good Night.

ALL you that cry O hone, Ohone,
come now & sing O hone with me
For why our Jewel is from us gone,
the valiant Knight of Chivalry:
Of rich and poor belov'd was he,
in time an honourable Knight;
When by our Laws condemn'd to dye,
he lately took his last good night.

Count him not like to Champion,
those Traytorous men of Babington,
Nor like the Earl of Westmerland,
by whom a number were undone:
He never yet hurt Mothers Son,
his quarrel still maintains the right,
Which makes the tears my face down run
when I think on his last good night.

The Portugals can witness be,
his Dagger at Lisborn Gate he flung,
And like a Knight of Chivalry,
his Chain upon the gate he hung;
I would to God that he would come
to fetch them back in order right
Which thing was by his honour done,
yet lately took his last good night.

The Frenchmen they can testifie,
the town of Gourney he took in,
And marcht to Rome immediately,
not caring for his foes a pin,
With Bullets then he pierc'd their skin
and made them flye from his sight:
He there that time did credit win,
and now hath tane his last good night

And stately Cales can witness be,
even by his Proclamation right,
He did command them all straightly,
to have a care of Infants lives:
And that none should hurt man or wife,
which was against their right,
Therefore they pray'd for his long life,
which lately took his last good night.

Would God he ne'r had Ireland known,
nor set one foot on Flanders ground
Then might we well injoy'd our own,
where now our Jewel will not be found
Which makes our foes still abound,
trickling with salt tears in our sight,
To hear his name in our ears to sound,
Lord Deverux took his last good night.

Ashwednesday that dismal day,
when he came forth of his chamber door,
Upon a Scaffold there he saw,
his heads-man standing him before:
His Nobles all they did deplore,
sheding salt tears in his sight,
He said farewel to rich and poor,
at his good morrow and goodnight:

My Lords said he you stand but by,
to see performance of the Law,
It is I that have deserv'd to dye.
and yield my self unto the blow,
I have deserv'd to dye I know,
but ne'r against my Countries right,
Nor to my Queen was ever foe,
upon my death at my good night.

Farewel Elizabeth my gracious Queen,
God bless thee with thy council all,
Farewel my Knights of Chivalry,
farewel my Souldiers stout and tall.
Farewel the Commons great and small,
into the hands of men I light,
My life shall make amends for all,
for Essex bids the world good night.

Farewel dear wife and children three,
farewel my kind and tender son,
Comfort your selves mourn not for me,
although your fall be now begun,
My time is come my glass is run,
comfort your self in former light,
Seeing by my fall you are undone,
your father bids the world good night.

Derick thou know'st at Cales I sav'd
thy life lost for a Rape there done,
As thou thy self can'st testifie,
thine own hand three and twenty hung,
But now thou seest my self is come
by chance into thy hands I light,
Strike out thy blow that I may know,
thou Essex lov'd at his good night.

When England counted me a Papist,
the work of Papists I defie,
I ne'r worshipt saint nor Angel in heaven
nor the Virgin Mary I.
But to Christ which for my sins did dye,
trickling with Salt tears in his sight
Spreading my arms to God on high,
Lord Jesus receive my soul this night

Printed for W. Thackeray, and
T. Passinger.