(This ballad is taken, by permission of J. O. Halliwell, Esq., from the reprint, edited by him for the Percy Society, of one of the only two copies that have been preserved, contained in a MS. of the time of Charles II., in the possession of Mr. Bateman. The other copy is preserved in MS. Harl. 367, and appears to have been transcribed about the year 1600.' The title, as given by Mr. Halliwell, is, "The most pleasant Song of Lady Bessy, the eldest daughter of King Edward the Fourth, and how she married King Henry the Seventh, of the House of Lancaster.' 'It appears,' says Mr. Halliwell, that the poem was composed by Bessy's true esquire,' Humphrey Brereton, who was in the service of Lord Stanley.' At all events, its antiquity is satisfactorily proved by the multiplicity of those minute traits of language and manners, which must have been forgotten by a more recent writer. The peculiar features of the age, the costume, and the difficulty of correspondence, are too faithfully described to leave any reasonable doubt of the early period of the author. For all the known particulars respecting Elizabeth of York, we follow Mr. Halliwell's example in referring the reader to Sir H. Nicolas' Memoir prefixed to 'Privy Purse Expenses of Elizabeth of York,' 8vo, 1830; and Miss Strickland's 'Lives of the Queens of England,' vol. 4.]

I shall tell you how Lady Bessy made her moan,
And down she kneeled upon her knee
Before the Earle of Darby her self alone,

These were her words fair and free:-
Who was your beginner, who was your ground,
Good father Stanley, will you tell me?
Who married you to the Margaret Richmond,
A Dutchess of a high degree?

And your son the Lord George Strange
By that good lady you had him by.
And Harden lands under your hands,
And Moules dale also under your fee,
Your brother Sir William Stanley by parliament
The Holt Castle who gave him truely?
Who gave him Brome-field, that I now ment?
Who gave him Chirk-land to his fee?
Who made him High Chamberlain of Cheshire?
Of that country farr and near
They were all wholly at his desire,
When he did call they did appear;
And also the Forrest of Delameer,

To hunt therin both day and night
As often as his pleasure were,

And to send for baron and knight; Who made the knight and lord of all? Good father Stanley, remember thee! It was my father, that king royall,

He set you in that room so high. Remember Richmond banished full bare, And lyeth in Brittain behind the sea, You may recover him of his care,

If your heart and mind to him will gree: Let him come home and claim his right,

And let us cry him King Henry!

And if you will maintain him with might,
In Brittain he needeth not long to tarry.
Go away, Bessy, the Lord said then,

I tell thee, now, for certainty,

That fair words make oft fooles full faine,
When they be but found vain glory.
Oh! father Stanley, to you I call,

For the love of God remember thee,

Since my father King Edward, that king royall
At Westminster on his death bed lee;

He called to him my unckle Richard,
So he did Robert of Brackenbury,
And James Terrill he was the third;

He sent them to Ludlow in the west countrey,
To fetch the Duke of York and the Duke of Clarence,
These two lords born of a high degree.

The Duke of York should have been prince,

And king after my father free,

But a balle-full game was then among,

When they doomed these two lords to dye:

They had neither justice nor right, but had great wrong,
Alack! it was the more pitty!

Neither were they burried in St. Maries,

In church or churchyard or holy place;

Alas! they had dolefull destinies,

Hard was their chance, worse was their disgrace!
Therefore help, good father Stanley, while you have space,
For the love of God and mild Mary,
Or else in time to come you shall, alas!
Remember the words of Lady Bessy!
Good Lady Bessy, be content,

For tho' your words be never so sweet,
If King Richard knew, you must be shent,
And perchance cast into prison deep;
Then had you cause to waill and weep,
And wring your hands with heavy chear;
Therefore, good lady, I you beseek

To move me no more in this matter.
Oh! good father Stanley, listen now and hear;
Heare is no more but you and I:

King Edward that was my father dear,
On whose estate God had mercy,
In Westminster as he did stand,
On a certain day in a study,

A book of reason he had in his hand,
And so sore his study he did apply,
That his tender tears fell on the ground,

All men might see that stood him by:
There were both earls and lords of land,
But none of them durst speak but I.
I came before my father the king,

And kneeled down upon my knee;
I desired him lowly of his blessing,
And full soon he gave it unto me:
And in his arms he could me thring,
And set me in a window so high;
He spake to me full sore weeping,--

These were the words he said to me: Daughter, as thou wilt have my blessing, Do as I shall councell thee,

And to my words give good listning,
For one day they may pleasure thee:
Here is a book of Reason, keep it well,
As you will have the love of me;
Neither to any creature do it tell,
Nor let no liveing lord it see,
Except it be to the Lord Stanley,
The which I love full heartiley:
All the matter to him show you may,
For he and his thy help must be;
As soon as the truth to him is shown
Unto your words he will agree;

For their shall never son of my body be gotten
That shall be crowned after me,
But you shall be queen and wear the crown,
So doth expresse the prophecye!

He gave me tax and toland,

And also diamonds to my degree,

To gett me a prince when it pleaseth Christ,
The world is not as it will be:

Therefore, good father Stanley, grant my request
For the love of God I desire thee;

All is at your commandment down in the west,
Both knight and squire and the commentie;
You may choose then where you like best,
I have enough both of gold and fee;
I want nothing but the strength of men,
And good captains two or three.
Go away, Bessy, the lord said then,
To this will I never agree,
For women oft time cannot faine,

These words they be but vain glory!

For and I should treason begin
Against King Richard his royalty,
In every street within London

The Eagle's foot should be pulled down,
And as yet in his great favour I am,

But then shoud I loose my great renowne!
I shoud be called traitor thro' the same
Full soon in every markett towne!
That were great shame to me and my name,
I had rather spend ten thousand pounde.
O father Stanley, to you I mak my moane,
For the love of God remember thee;
It is not three days past and gone,
Since my unckle Richard sent after me
A batchelor and a bold baron,

A Doctor of Divinitye,

And bad that I should to his chamber gone,
His love and his leman that I should bee;
And the queen that was his wedded feere,
He would her poyson and putt away;
So would he his son and his heir,
Christ knoweth he is a proper boy!
Yet I had rather burn in a tunne

On the Tower Hill that is so high,
Or that I would to his chamber come,

His love and his leman will I not be!
I had rather be drawn with wild horses five,
Through every street of that citty,
Or that good woman should lose her life,
Good father, for the love of mee.
I am his brother's daughter dear;
He is my uncle, it is no nay;
Or ever I woud be his wedded feere,
With sharp swords I will me slay;
At his bidding if I were then,

And follow'd also his cruel intent,
I were well worthy to suffer pain,
And in a fire for to be brent.

Therefore, good father Stanley, some pitty take On the Earle Richmond and me,

And the rather for my father's sake,

Which gave thee the Ile of Man so free;
He crowned thee with a crown of lead,
He holpe the first to that degree;

He set thee the crown upon thy head,
And made thee the lord of that countrey;
That time you promised my father dear,
To him to be both true and just,
And now you stand in a disweare,

Oh! Jesu Christ, who may men trust?

O good lady, I say againe

mind; Your fair words shall never move my King Richard is my lord and sov'raign,

To him I will never be unkind.

I will serve him truely till I die,
I will him take as I him find;

For he hath given to mine and me,

His bounteous gifts do me so bind.
Yet good father Stanley, remember thee,
As I have said so shall it prove,
If he of his gift be soe free,

It is for fear and not for love;