There never light of cheerful day And adders, snakes, and toads therein, Long in this loathsome vault had been, Into this foul and fearful place, This maid no sooner enter'd is, The toads to croak, and snakes to hiss : Soon from their holes the vipers creep, Which makes the damsel sorely weep, With her fair hands she strives in vain Her body to defend : With shrieks and cries she doth complain, But all is to no end. A servant, list'ning near the door, With bleeding heart he goes again Again he to his lady hies. Still back again does he return In grief, and horrour, and affright, But finding all was silent quite, 'Too sure, O lady, now,' quoth he, 'Your cruelty hath sped; Make haste, for shame, and come and see; I fear the virgin's dead.' She starts to hear her sudden fate, And does with torches run: The door being open'd, straight they found The virgin stretch'd along: Two dreadful snakes had wrapp'd her round Which her to death had stung. One round her legs, her thighs, her waist, Had twin'd his fatal wreath : The snakes, being from her body thrust, That with excess of blood they burst, The wicked lady at this sight, With horrour straight ran mad; So raving died, as was most right, 'Cause she no pity had. Let me advise you, ladies all, It causeth many a one to fall, Anonymous. THE SPANISH LADY'S LOVE. WILL you hear a Spanish lady, Deck'd with jewels had she on : Of a comely countenance and grace was she, As his prisoner there he kept her, In his courteous company was all her joy, But at last there came commandment For to set all ladies free, With their jewels still adorned, None to do them injury. 'O then,' said this lady gay, 'full woe is me! 'Gallant captain, show some pity For to die in heaviness: Thou hast set, this present day, my body free, 'How shouldst thou, fair lady, love me, 'All the harm I wish on thee, most courteous knight, God grant upon my head the same may fully light! 'Blessed be the time and season That thou cam'st on Spanish ground! If you may our foes be termed, Gentle foes we have you found: With our city, you have won our hearts each one, Then to your country bear away that is your own.' 'Rest you still, most gallant lady : Rest you still, and weep no more; Of fair flowers you have plenty, Spain doth yield you wondrous store.' 'Spaniards fraught with jealousy we oft do find, But Englishmen throughout the world are counted kind: 'Leave me not unto a Spaniard, Thou alone enjoy'st my heart; I am lovely, young, and tender, Love is likewise my desert: Still to serve thee day and night my mind is press'd; The wife of ev'ry Englishman is counted bless'd.' ''It would be a shame, fair lady, For to bear a woman hence; English soldiers never carry Any such without offence,' 'I will quickly change myself, if it be so, 'I have neither gold nor silver, 'My chains and jewels ev'ry one shall be thy own, And eke ten thousand pounds in gold that lies unknown.' 'On the seas are many dangers, Many storms do there arise, Which will be to ladies dreadful, And force tears from wat'ry eyes.' "Well, in troth, I shall endure extremity, For, I could find in heart to lose my life for thee.' 'Courteous lady, leave this folly, Here comes all that breeds the strife; I, in England, have already A sweet woman to my wife; I will not falsify my vow for gold nor gain, Nor yet for all the fairest dames that live in Spain." |