The first part of the merchants Daughter of Bristol.  
To the tune of, The maidens joy.  

BEhold the touchstone of true love,  
Maudlin the merchants daughter of Bristol town  
Whose firm affection nothing could move:  
Such favour bears the lovely brown.  
¶ A gallant Youth was dwelling by,  
Which many years had borne this Maiden great goodwill:  
She loved him as faithfully,  
But all her friends withstood it still.  
¶ The Young man now perceiving well,  
He could not get nor win the favour of her friends:  
The force of sorrows to expel,  
To view strange Countries be intends.  
¶ And now to take his last farewell,  
Of his true love, his fair and constant Maudlin:  
With Music sweet that did excel,  
He plays under her window fine.  
¶ Farewell quoth he, my own true love,  
Farewell my dear & chiefest treasure of my heart:  
Through fortune's spite that false did prove,  
I am enforced from thee to part.  
¶ Into the land of Italy,  
There will I waste and weary out my days in woe:  
Seeing my true love to kept from me,  
I hold my life a mortal foe.  
¶ Fair Bristol town therefore adieu,  
For Padua must be my habitation now:  
Although my Love doth lodge in thee,  
To whom alone my heart I vow.  
¶ With trickling tears thus did he sing,  
With sighs and sobs descending from his heart full sore  
He saith, when he his hands did wring,  
Farewell sweet love for evermore.  
¶ Fair Maudlin from a window high,  
Beholds her true love with his music where he stood  
But not a word she durst reply,  
Fearing her parents angry mood.  
¶ In tears he spends the doleful night.  
wishing herself (though naked) with her faithful friend  
She blames her friends and fortunes spite,  
That wrought their loves such luckless end.  
¶ And in her heart she makes a how,  
Clean to forsake her country and her kinsfolk all,  
And for to follow her true love now,  
To bide all chants that might fall.  
¶ The night is gone, and the day is come,  
And in the morning very early doth she arise,  
She gets her down to the lower room,  
where sundry Seamen she espies,  
¶ A gallant Master among them all,  
The Master of a fair and goodly Ship was he▪  
Which there stood weighting in the hall,  
To speak with her father if it might be.  
¶ She kindly takes him by the hand,  
Good sir she said, and would you speak with any here?  
Quoth he fair Maid therefore I stand.  
Then gentle sir, I pray you come near,  
¶ Into a pleasant Parlour by,  
With hand in hand she brings this Seaman all alone:  
Sighing to him most piteously.  
She thus to him did make her moan.  
¶ She falls upon her tender knee,  
Good sir she said, now pity you a maidens woe:  
And prove a faithful friend to me▪  
That I to you my grief may show.  
¶ Sith you repose such trust, he said,  
To me that am unknown, and ekia stranger here:  
Be you assured proper Maid,  
Most faithful still I will appear.  
¶ I have a brother sir quoth she,  
Whom as my life I love and favour tenderly:  
In Padua alas is he,  
Full sick God wot, and like to die.  
¶ And feign I would my brother see,  
But that my father will not yield to let me got.  
Wherefore good sir be good to me,  
And unto me this favour show.  
¶ Some Shipboys garments bring to me,  
That I disguised may get away from hence unknown:  
And unto Sea I'll go with thee,  
If thus much friendship may be shown.  
¶ Fair Maid quoth he take here my hand,  
I will fulfil each thing that now you desire:  
And set you safe in that same Land,  
and in the place where you require.  
¶ Then gives she him a tender kiss,  
And saith, your servant (gallant Master) I will be,  
And prove your faithful friend for this:  
Sweet Master then forget not me.  
¶ This done, as they had doth decreed,  
Soon after, early, even before the break of days  
He brings her garments then with speed,  
Wherein she doth herself array.  
¶ And ere her father did arise,  
She meets her Master as he walked in the hall▪  
She did attend on him likewise,  
Even till her father did him call.  
¶ But ere the Merchant made an end,  
Of all those matters to the Master he could say:  
His wife came weeping in with speed,  
Saying, our Daughter is gone away.  
¶ The Merchant much amazed in mind,  
Yonder wild wretch enticed away my child quoth he:  
But well I wot I shall him find  
at Padua in Italy.  
¶ With that bespoke the Master brave,  
Worshipful Merchant thither goes this pretty youth▪  
And any thing that you would have,  
He will perform it and write the truth.  
¶ Sweet youth quoth he, if it be so,  
Bear me a letter to the English Merchants there,  
and gold on thee I will bestow:  
My Daughter's welfare I do fear.  
¶ Her Mother takes her by the hand,  
Fair youth quoth she, if there thou dost my daughter see  
Let me thereof soon understand,  
and there is twenty Crowns for thee.  
¶ Thus through the Daughter's strange disguise,  
The Mother knew not when she spoke unto her child:  
And after her Master strait she dies,  
Taking her leave with countenance mild.  
¶ Thus to the Sea fair Maudlin is gone,  
With her gentle Master, God send them a merry wind  
Where we a while must leave them alone,  
Till you the second part do find.   
FINIS.