A priest, a priest, fayes Aldingàr, While I am a man alive. A priest, a priest, fayes Aldingàr, Me for to houzle and fhrive. I wolde have layne by our comlye queene Then I thought to betraye her unto our kinge In a fyer to have her brent. There came a lazar to the kings gates, A lazar both blinde and lame: I tooke the lazar upon my backe, Then ranne I to our comlye king, But ever alacke! fayes Aldingar, Falfing never doth well. Forgive, forgive me, queene, madame, The fhort time I muft live. Nowe Christ forgive thee, Aldingar, As freely I forgive. 185 190 195 209 Here take thy queene, our king Harry'e, 205 And love her as thy life, For never had a king in Chriftentye, A truer and fairer wife. Then King Henrye ran to clafpe his queene, And loofed her full fone: Then turnd to look for the tinye boye; But first he had touchd the lazar man, The lazar under the gallowes tree 210 215 220 ** X. ON THOMAS LORD CROMWELL. It is ever the fate of a disgraced minifter to be forfaken by his friends, and infulted by his enemies, always reckoning among the latter the giddy inconftant multitude. We have here a purn at fallen greatness from fome angry partifan of declining popery, who could never forgive the downfall of their Diana, and loss of their craft. ballad feems to have been compofed between the time of Cromwell's commitment to the tower Jun. 11. 1549, and that of his being beheaded July 28, following. A fhort interval! but Henry's paffion for Catharine Howard would The admit admit no delay. Notwithstanding our libeller, Cromwell bad excellent qualities; his great fault was too much obfequioufnefs to the arbitrary WILL of his mafter; but let it be confidered that this mafter had raised him from obfcurity, and that the high-born nobility had fhewn him the way in every kind of mean and fer-vile compliance.- -The original copy printed at London in 1540, is intitled "A newe ballade made of Thomas Crumwel, called TROLLE ON AWAY." To it is prefixed this diftich by way of burthen, Trolle on away, trolle on awaye. B Synge heave and howe rombelowe trolle on away. OTH man and chylde is glad to here tell Now that he is fet to learne to spell. Synge trolle on away. When fortune loky'd the in thy face, Thou haddyft fayre tyme, but thou lackydyft grace; { Thy cofers with golde thou fyllydst a pace. Both plate and chalys came to thy fyft, Synge, &c. Thou lockydft them vp where no man wyft, Tyll in the kynges treafoure fuche thinges were myft. Synge, &c. Both cruft and crumme came thorowe thy handes, Thy marchaundyfe fayled over the fandes, IC Synge, &c. Fyrfte when kynge Henry, God faue his grace! Then it was tyme to purchase the a place. Hys grace was euer of gentyll nature, 15 Synge, &c. Mouyd with petye, and made the hys feruyture, Thou dyd not remembre, falfe heretyke, Synge, &c. One God, one fayth, and one Rynge catholyke, 2Q Synge, &c. Thou woldyft not learne to knowe these thre, But euer was full of iniquite; Wherfore all this lande hathe ben troubled with the. Synge, &c. 25 All they, that were of the new trycke, Agaynft the churche thou baddeft them ftycke, Synge, &c. Bothe facramentes and facramentalles Nor let vs praye for all chryften foules. 30 Synge, &c. Of Of what generacyon thou were no tonge can tell, Or else fent vs frome the deuyll of hell. Synge, &c. Thou woldest neuer to vertue applye, 35 Synge, &c. Who-fo-euer dyd winne thou wolde not lofe, Synge, &c. Thou myghtest haue learned thy cloth to flocke, 40 Upon thy grefy fullers flocke; Wherfore lay downe thy heade vpon this blocke. Synge, &c, Yet faue that foule, that God hath bought, And for thy carcas care thou nought, Let it fuffre payne, as it hath wrought. Synge, &c. God faue kyng Henry with all his power, Synge trolle on awaye, fyng trolle on away. 45 |