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My Rofe shall safely here abide,
With musicke passe the daye ; Whilft I, amonge the piercing pikes,
My foes seeke far awaye.
My Rose Mall Mhine in pearle, and golde,
Whilit Ime in armour dighte;
Whilst I my foes goe fighte.
And you, fir Thomas, whom I trufte
To bee my loves defence;
When I am parted hence.”
And therewithall he fetcht a figh,
As though his heart would breake: And Rofamonde, for very griefe,
Not one plaine word could speake.
And at their parting well they mighte
In heart be grieved fore: After that daye faire Rosamonde
The king did see no more.
For when his grace had past the seas,
And into France was gone ;
To Woodstocke came anone.
And forth the calles this trustye knighte,
In an unhappy houre;
Came from this famous bower,
And when that they had wounded him,
The queene this thread did gette, And went where ladye Rosamonde
Was like an angell fette.
But when the queene with stedfast eye
Beheld her beauteous face, She was amazed in her minde
At her exceeding grace.
Caft off from thee thofe robes, she faid,
That riche and costlye bee;
Which I have brought to thee.
Then presentlye upon her knees
Sweet Rosamonde did falle;
For her offences all.
“ Take pitty on my youthfull yeares,
Faire Rosamonde did crye;
Enforced bee to dye.
I will renounce my sinfull life,
And in some cloyster bide;
To range the world foe wide.
And for the fault which I have done,
Though I was forc'd theretoe, Preserve my life, and punish mee
As you thinke meet to doe.”
And with these words, her lillie handes
She wrunge full often there ; And downe along her lovely face
Did trickle many a teare.
But nothing could this furious queene
Therewith appeased bee;
As she knelt on her knee,
Shee gave this comelye dame to drinke;
Who tooke it in her hand,
And on her feet did stand:
And casting up her eyes to heaven,
Shee did for mercye calle;
Her life she lost withalle,
And when that death through everye limbe
Had fhow de its greatest spite,
Shee was a glorious wight.
Her body then they did entomb,
When life was fled away,
As may be seene this day.
VIII. QUEEN ELEANOR's CONFESSION.
“ Eleanor, the daughter and heiress of William duke of Guienne, and count of Poistou, had been married sixteen years to Louis VII. king of France, and had attended him in a croisade, which that monarch commanded against the infidels; but having left the affections of her busband, and even fallen under fore fufpicions of gallantry with a handsome Saracen, Louis, more delicate than politic, procured a divorce from her, and restored her those rich provinces, which by ber marriage she had annexed to the crown of France. The young count of Anjou, afterwards Henry II. king of England, thor at that time but in his nineteenth
year, neither discoua raged by the disparity of age, nor by the reports of Eleanor's gallantry, made fuch successful courtship to that princess, that he married her fix weeks after her divorce, and got polefion of all her dominions as a dowery. A marriage thus founded upon interest was not likely to be very happy : it
happened accordingly. Eleanor, who had disgusted her first busband by her gallantries, was no less offensive to her fecond by her jealousy: thus carrying to extremity, in the different parts of her life, every circumfiance of female seakness. She had several fons by Henry, whom she fpirited up to rebel against him ; and endeavouring to escape to them disguised in man's apparel in 1173, she was discovered and thrown into a confinement, which seems to have continued till the death of her husband in 1189. She however Jurvived him many years: dying in 1204, in the fixth year of the reign of her youngest son, John.” See Hume's Hift. 40. Vol. 1. pp. 260, 307. Speed, Stow, &c.
It is needless to observe, that the following ballad (given, with fome corrections, from an old printed copy) is altogether fabulous; whatever gallantries Eleanor encouraged in the țime of her first hupand, none are imputed to her in that of ker second.
UEENE Elianor was a ficke woman.
And afraid that she should dye:
To speke with her speedilye.
The king calld downe his nobles all,
By one, by two, by three;
And thou shalt wend with mee."
A boone, a boone; quoth earl marfàll,
And fell on his bended knee;