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To Matthew Shore I was a wife,
Till lust brought ruin to my life;
And then my life I lewdlye spent,
Which makes my soul for to lament.

In Lombard-street I once did dwelle,
As London yet can witness welle;
Where many gallants did beholde
My beautye in a shop of golde.

I spred my plumes, as wantons doe,
Some sweet and secret friende to wooe,
Because chast love I did not finde
Agreeing to my wanton minde.

At last my name in court did ring
Into the eares of Englandes king,
Who came and lik'd, and love requir'd,
But I made coye what he desir'd:

Yet Mistress Blague, a neighbour neare,
Whose friendship I esteemed deare,
Did saye, It was a gallant thing
To be beloved of a king.

By her persuasions I was led
For to defile my marriage-bed,
And wronge my wedded husband Shore,
Whom I had married yeares before.

In heart and mind I did rejoyce, That I had made so sweet a choice; And therefore did my state resigne, To be king Edward's concubine.

From city then to court I went,
To reape the pleasures of content;
There had the joyes that love could bring,
And knew the secrets of a king.

When I was thus advanc'd on highe, Commanding Edward with mine eye, For Mrs. Blague I in short space Obtainde a livinge from his grace.

No friende I had but in short time I made unto a promotion climbe; But yet for all this costlye pride, My husbande could not mee abide.

His bed, though wronged by a king,
His heart with deadlye griefe did sting;
From England then he goes away
To end his life beyond the sea.

He could not live to see his name
Impaired by my wanton shame ;
Although a prince of peerlesse might
Did reape the pleasure of his right.

Long time I lived in the courte,
With lords and ladies of great sorte ;
And when I smil'd all men were glad,
But when I frown'd my prince grewe sad.

But yet a gentle minde I bore
To helplesse people, that were poore;
I still redrest the orphans crye,
And sav'd their lives condemnd to dye.

I still had ruth on widowes tears,
succour'd babes of tender yeares;
And never look'd for other gaine
But love and thankes for all my paine.

At last my royall king did dye,
And then my dayes of woe grew nighe;
When crook-back Richard got the crowne,
King Edwards friends were soon put
downe.

I then was punisht for my sin,
That I so long had lived in ;
Yea, every one that was his friend,
This tyrant brought to shamefull end.

Then for my lewd and wanton life,
That made a strumpet of a wife,
I penance did in Lombard-street,
In shamefull manner in a sheet.

Where many thousands did me viewe,
Who late in court my credit knewe;
Which made the teares run down my face,
To thinke upon my foul disgrace.

Not thus content, they took from mee
My goodes, my livings, and my fee,
And charg'd that none should me relieve,
Nor any succour to me give.

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XXVII.-CORYDON'S DOLEFUL KNELL.

THIS little simple elegy is given, with some corrections, from two copies, one of which is in The golden garland of princely delights.

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SERIES THE SECOND.-BOOK III.

1. THE COMPLAINT OF CONSCIENCE.

I SHALL begin this Third Book with an old allegoric satire, entitled The Complaint of Conscience-a manner of moralizing which, if it was not first introduced by the author of Pierce Plowman's Visions, was at least chiefly brought into repute by that ancient satirist. The kind of verse used in this ballad has a strong affinity with the peculiar metre of that writer.

The following song, entitled The Complaint of Conscience, is printed from the Editor's folio manuscript. Some corruptions in the old copy are here corrected; the corrections are placed between inverted "commas.

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For nothing was passed betweene foe | Then went I to London, where once I did and friend,

But Conscience was called to bee at "the" end.

Noe bargaines, nor merchandize merchants wold make

But I was called a witnesse therto:

No use for noe money, nor forfett wold take,

But I wold controule them, if that they did soe:

"And" that makes me live now in great woe,

"

dwell:"

But they bade away with me, when they

knew my name;

For he will undoe us to bye and to sell! They bade me goe packe me, and hye me for shame :

They lought at my raggs, and there had good game;

This is old threed-bare Conscience, that dwelt with saint Peter:

But they wold not admitt me to be a chimney-sweeper.

For then came in Pride, Sathan's Not one wold receive me, the Lord "he"
disciple,
doth know;
That is now entertained with all kind I having but one poor pennye in my
of people.

He brought with him three, whose names "thus they call,"

That is Covetousnes, Lecherye, Usury, beside:

They never prevail'd, till they had wrought

my downe-fall;

Soe Pride was entertained, but Conscience decried,

And now ever since" abroad have I tryed

To have had entertainment with some one or other;

But I am rejected, and scorned of my brother.

Then went I to the Court the gallants to winn,

But the porter kept me out of the gate: To Bartlemew Spittle to pray for my sinne,

They bade me goe packe, it was fitt for my state;

Goe, goe, threed-bare Conscience, and

seeke thee a mate.

purse,

On an awle and some patches I did it bestow;

"For" I thought better cobble shooes than doe worse.

Straight then all the coblers began for to

curse,

And by statute wold prove me a rogue, and forlorne,

And whipp me out of towne to "seeke" where I was borne.

Then did I remember, and call to my minde,

The Court of Conscience where once I did sit :

Not doubting but there I some favor shold find,

For my name and the place agreed soe fit;

But there of my purpose I fayled a whit, For " thoughe the judge us'd my name in everye "commission," The lawyers with their quillets wold get "my" dismission.

Good Lord, long preserve my king, Then Westminster-hall was noe place for

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