The lamentable Ditty of Little Mousgrove, and the Lady Barnet.  
To an excellent tune.  
 

AS it fell on a light Holiday,  
as many more does in the year,  
Little Mousgrove would to the Church and pray  
to see the fair Ladies there,  
Gaallants there were of good degree,  
for beauty exceeding fair,  
Most wondrous lovely to the eye, that did to that Church repair.   

Some came dawn in red Velvet,  
and others came dawn in Pall,  
But next came down my Lady Barnet,  
the fairest amongst them all,  
She cast a look upon Little Mousgrove,  
as bright as the Summer's Sun,  
Full well perceived then Little Mousgrove,  
Lady Barnet's Love he had won.   

Then Lady Barnet most meek and mild,  
saluted this Little Mousgrove,  
Who did repay her kind courtesy,  
with favour, and Gentle Love,  
I have a bower in merry Barnet,  
bestrowed with Cowslips sweet,  
If that it please you, Little Mousgrove,  
in love me there to meet,   

Within my Arms one night to sleep,  
for you my heart have won,  
You need not fear my suspicious Lord,  
for he from home is gene.  
Betid me life, betid me death,  
this night I will Sleep with thee,  
And for thy sake I'll hazard my breath,  
so dear is my love to thee,   
 

What shall we do with our little Foot-Page,  
our Counsel for to keep,  
And watch for fear Lord Barnet comes,  
whilst we together do sleep?  
Red Gold shall be his hire, quoth he,  
and Silver shall be his fee.  
If he our Counsel safely do keep,  
that I may sleep with thee.   

I will have none of your Gold, said he,  
nor none of your Silver fee,  
If I should keep your Counsel, sir,  
'twere great disloyalty.  
I will not be false unto my Lord,  
for house nor yet for land,  
But if my Lady does prove untrue,  
Lord Barnet shall understand.   

Then swiftly runs the little Foot-Page,  
unto his Lord with speed,  
Who then was feasting with his dear friends,  
not dreaming of this ill deed:  
Most speedily the Page did haste,  
most swiftly did he run,  
And when his came to the broken Bridge,  
he lay on his breast and swum.   

The Page did make no stay at all,  
but went to his Lord with speed,  
That he the truth might lay to him,  
concerning this wicked deed.  
He found his Lord at supper then,  
great merriment there they did keep.  
My Lord, quoth he, this night on my word  
Mousgrove with your Lady does sleep.   

The second part;  
To the same tune.  
 

If this be true, my little Foot-Page.  
and true as thou tellest to me,  
My eldest daughter I'll give to thee,  
and wedded shall thou be.  
It this be a lie, my little Foot-Page,  
and a lie as then tellest to me:  
A new pair of Gallows shall strait be set,  
and hanged shalt thou be.   

If this be a lie, my Lord, said he,  
a lie that you hear from me,  
Then never stay a Gallows to make,  
but hang me upon the next tree.  
Lord Barnet then called up his merry men,  
away with speed he would go,  
His heart was sore perplexed with grief,  
the truth of this he must know.   

Saddle your horses with speed, quoth he,  
and saddle me my white Steed,  
If this be true as the Page hath said,  
Mousgrove shall repent this deed.  
He charged his men no noise to make,  
as they road all along on the way,  
Nor wind no horns, quoth he, on your life,  
lest our coming it should betray.   

But one of the men that Mousgrove did love,  
and respected his friendship most dear,  
To give him knowledge Lord Barnet was near,  
did wind his Bugle most clear,  
And evermore as he did blow,  
away Mousgrove and away:  
For if I take thee with my Lady,  
then slain thou shalt be this day.   

O hark, fair Lady, your Lord is near,  
I hear his little horn blow,  
And if he find me in your Arms thus,  
then slain I shall be, I know.  
O lie still, lie still, little Mousgrove,  
and keep my back from the cold▪  
I know it is my Father's shepherd,  
driving sheep to the Pinfold.   

Mousgrove did turn him round about,  
sweet slumber his eyes did greet.  
When he did wake, he then espied  
Lord Barnet at his beds feet.  
O rise up, rise up, little Mousgrove,  
and put thy Clothes on,  
It shall never be said in fair England,  
I slew a naked man.   

Here's two good swords, Lord Barnet said,  
thy choice Mousgrove thou shalt make,  
The best of them thyself shalt have,  
and I the worst will take,  
The first good blow that Mousgrove did strike,  
he wounded Lord Barnet sore,  
The second blow that Lord Barnet gave,  
Mousgrove could strike no more.   

He took his Lady by the white hand,  
all love to rage did convert,  
That with his sword in most furious sort,  
he pierced her tender heart,  
A grave, a grave, Lord Barnet cried,  
prepare to lay us in,  
My Lady shall lie on the upper side,  
cause she's of the better kin.   

Then suddenly he slew himself,  
which grieved his friends full sore  
The deaths of those three worthy wights  
with tears they did deplore.  
This sad mischance by full 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  
Then let us call for grace,  
That we may shun this wicked deed,  
and mend our lives apace.    
FINIS.   

London Printed for H. Gosson.