A

COLLECTION

OF OLD

BALLAD S.

I. The Unfortunate Concubine; or, Rofamond's Overthrow.

Occasion'd by her Brother's unadvisedly praising her Beauty to Two young Knights of Salif bury, as they rid on the Road.

To the Tune of The Court Lady.

Rofamond, the Daughter of Walter Lord Clifford, was, as the Writers of that Age affure us, a young Lady of infinite Beauty; on the bare Report of which, King Henry the Second fell in Love with her, and having

B

de

debauch'd her, built the famous Bower at Woodstock, to keep her out of the Reach of his jealous Queen Eleanor; of whom I fhall, in one of my following Introductions, have Occafion to speak. 'Tis but a few Years fince there were fome Remains of this Bower to be feen, hard by that Noble Palace of the late Duke of Marlborough, BleinheimCastle; and in one of the adjacent Meads, they still fhew us Rofamond's Pond, where (they fay) She was wont to bathe her felf. However, this is a Point (if I may dwell on fuch a Trifle) fcarce to be believ'd, unless The made ufe of Cold Baths; for the Waters are fome of the coldest I ever felt; issuing directly out of a Rock, or flinty Mountain, and falling into a Square Bafon fome Three or Four Foot deep. However, the jealous Queen found the Means of compaffing her Ends even in this Place: For King Henry the IIId, who by his Father's Indulgence had been crown'd in his Life-time, rebell'd in Normandy; and the Queen perfwaded Two more of her Sons to join their Brother, which they did; and Henry II. was obliged to cross the Seas, to quell the rebellious Princes. During this Time, the Queen (who refided at the Royal Palace in Oxford) undertook to fee Rofamond; which she effected, not by murdering the Guards of the Bower, and being then guided into it by a

Clue

Clue of Thread, as has erroneously been believ'd; but by a fubterraneous Way, digg'd fromGodftowNunnerytoWoodstock Bower, tho' Five Miles diftant from each other, and carried even under the Ifis,anavigable River. The Plot of Mr. Addifon's Opera on this Subject, is generally believ'd a Poetical FiEtion; because he does not kill Rofamond, but fuppofes her to be carry'd away to the Nunnery alive: However, I believe, he has better Authority for this, than most People have for affirming that the Queen poifon'd her, and that he dy'd on the Spot. Certain it is, he did not live long, at least not in the Bower, after this Vifit; for, dead or alive, fhe was brought by the fame fubterraneous Paffage into the Nunnery, the Entrance of which is ftill to be feen amongst its Ruins. The Walls of the Chapel Choir (where he lies interr'd) are standing: Her Grave is mark'd round with a narrow Ridge of Stone, and on the Wall is writ, Hic jacet in Tumulo Rofamunda, non Rosa Mundi ;

Non redolet, fed olet, quæ redolere folet.

And feveral of the Letters having (thro' Injury of Time) been defaced, have lately been repair'd. This Lady had Two Sons by the King: the Eldeft, William, marry'd the Daughter and fole Heiress of the Earl

of Salisbury; the other, Geoffrey, was first made Bishop of Lincoln, afterwards Archbishop of York; and died in Banishment during the Reign of his Brother, King John.

WEET, youthful, charming Ladies

Fram'd of the pureft Mold,

fair,

With rofy Cheeks, and silken Hair,
Which fhine like Threads of

Soft Tears of Pity here bestow

Gold:

On the unhappy Fate

Of Rofamond, who long ago
Prov'd most unfortunate.

When as the Second Henry reign'd
On the Imperial Throne,
How he this beauteous Flower gain'd,
To you I fhall make known :
With all the Circumstances too
Which did her Life attend;
How first she into Favour grew,
And of her fatal End.

As Three young Knights of Sal'sbury
Were riding on the way,
One boasted of a fair Lady,
Within her Bow'r fo gay:
I have a Sifter, Clifford fwears,
But few Men do her know;
Upon her Face, the Skin appears
Like Drops of Blood on Snow:

My

My Sifter's Locks of curled Hair
Outfhine the golden Oar;

Her Skin for Whiteness may compare
With the fine Lilly Flow'r :
Her Breasts are lovely to behold,
Like to the driven Snow:

I would not, for her Weight in Gold,
King Henry fhould her know.

King Henry had a Bower near
Where they were riding by,
And he did Clifford overhear:
Thought he immediately,

Tho' I her Brother fhou'd offend
For that fair White and Red;
For her I am refolv'd to fend,
To grace my Royal Bed.

The King, who was of high Renown,
Wou'd not his Fancy pall;
For having writ his Pleasure down,
He did young Clifford call;
Come here to me now out of hand,
Come hither unto me;

I am the King of fair England,
My Meffenger thou❜lt be:

I to your Sifter here have writ
Three Letters feal'd with Gold;

No Messenger I think fo fit

As you: Therefore, behold,
Convey them to her Hand with speed;
Make not the least delay:

My Will and Pleasure let her read,
And my Commands obey.

Young Clifford then the Letters took
From Henry's Royal Hand,

Tho' with a melancholy Look,
And mounted out of hand: