〈…〉 complaint and lamentation of Mistress Arden of ●●…rsham in Kent, who for the love of one Mosby, hired certain Ruffians 〈…〉 Villains most cruelly to murder her Husband; with the fatal end of her and her Associates.  
To the tune of, Fortune my Foe.  
 

AY me, vile wretch, that ever I was borne,  
Making myself unto the world a scorn:  
And to my friends and kindred all a shame,  
Blotting their blood by my unhappy name.   

Unto a Gentleman of wealth and fame,  
(One Master Arden, he was called by name)  
I wedded was with joy and great content,  
Living at Feversham in famous Kent.   

In love we lived, and great tranquillity,  
Until I came in Mosb●es company,  
Whose sugared tongue, good shaped, and lovely look,  
So one won my heart, and Arden's leave forsook.   

And living thus in foul adultery,  
Bred in my husband cause of jealousy,  
And left the world our actions should bewray,  
We did consent to take his life away.   

To London fair my Husband was to ride,  
But ere he went I poison did provide,  
Got of a Painter which I promised  
That Mosby's sister Susan he should wed.   

Into his Broth▪ then did put the same,  
He liked it not when to the board it came,  
Saying, There's something in it is not so●dd,  
At which enraged, I fiung it on the ground.   

Yet ere he went, his man I did conjure,  
Ere they came home, to make his Master sure,  
And murder him, and for his faith and pain,  
Susan, and store of gold that he should gain.   

Yet I misdoubting Michael's constancy,  
Knowing a Neighbour that was dwelling by,  
Which, to my husband bore no great good will,  
●ought to incense him his dear blood to spill.   

His name was Green; O Master Green (quoth I)  
My husband to you hath done injury,  
For which I sorry am with all my heart,  
And how he wrongeth me I will impart.   

He keeps abroad most wicked company,  
With whores and queans, and bad society;  
When he comes home, he beats me sides and head,  
That Id●● wish that one of us were dead.   

And now to London he is rid to roar,  
I would that I might never see him more:  
Greene then incensed, did vow to be my friend,  
And of his life he soon would make an end.   

O Master Greene, said I, the dangers great,  
You must be circumspect to do this feat;  
To act the deed yourself there is no need,  
But hire some villains, they will do the deed.   

Ten pounds I'll give them to attempt this thing,  
And twenty more when certain news they bring,  
That he is dead, beside I'll be your friend,  
In honest courtesy till life doth end.   

Greene vowed to do it; then away he went,  
And met two Villains, that did use in Kent  
To rob and murder upon Shooter's hill,  
The one called Shakebag, t'other named Black Will.   

Two such like Villain's Hell did never hatch,  
For twenty Angels they made up the match,  
And forty more when they had one the deed,  
Which made them swear, they'd do it with all speed   

Then up to London presently they hie,  
Where Master Arden in Paul's Church they spy,  
And waiting for his coming forth that night,  
By a strange chance of him they then lost sight.   

For where these Villains stood & made their stop  
A Apprentice he was shutting up his shop,  
The window falling, light on Blacke-Wills head,  
And broke it sound, that apace it bled.   

Where strait he made a brabble and a coil,  
And my sweet Arden he passed by the while;  
They missing him, another plot did lay,  
And meeting Michael, thus to him they say:   

Thou know'st that we must pack thy Master hence  
Therefore consent and further our pretence,  
At night when as your Master goes to bed,  
Leave open the doors, he shall be murdered.   

And so he did, yet Arden could not sleep,  
Strange dreams and visions in his senses creep,  
He dreamt the doors were open, & Villains came,  
To murder him, a 'twas the very same.   

The second part.  
To the same tune.  

HE rose and shut the door, his man he blames,  
which cunningly he straight this 〈◊〉 frames;  
I was so sleepy, that I did forget  
To lock the doors, I pray you pardon it.   

Next day these Ruffians met this man again,  
Who the whole story to them did explain,  
My master will in towns no longer stay,  
Tomorrow you may meets him on the way.   

Next day his business being finished,  
He did take horse, and homeward then he rid,  
And as he rid, it was his hap as then,  
To overtake Lord Cheiney and his men.   

With salutations they each other greet,  
I am full glad your Honour for to meet,  
Arden did say▪ then did the Lord reply,  
Sir, I am glad of your good company.   

And being that we homeward are to ride,  
I have a s●●ie that must not be denied,  
That at my house you'll sup, and lodge also,  
To Feversham this night you must not go.   

Then Arden answered with this courteous speech,  
Your Honours pardon now I do beseech,  
I made a vow, if God did give me life,  
To sup and lodge with Alice my loving wife.   

Well, said my Lord, your oath hath got the day,  
Tomorrow come and dine with me, I pray.  
I'll wait upon your Honour then (said he)  
And safe he want amongst this company.   

On Raymon-Downe, as they did pass this way,  
Blackwill, and Shakebag they in ambush lay,  
But durst not touch him, cause of the great trains  
That my Lord had: thus were they croft again.   

With horrid oaths these Ruffians 'gan to swear,  
They stamp and cursed, and tore their locks of hair  
Saying, some Angel surely him did keep.  
Yet vowed to murder him ere they did sleep.   

Now all this while my husband was away,  
Mosby and I did revel night and day;  
And Susan, which my waiting maiden was,  
My Loues own sister, knew how all did pass.   

But when I saw my Arden was not dead,  
I welcomed him, but with a heavy head:  
To bed he went, and slept secure from harms,  
But I did wish my Mosby in my arms.   

Yet ere he slept, he told me he must go  
To dinner to my Lords, he'd have it so;  
And that same night Blacke-will did send me word,  
What luck bad fortune did to them offord.   

I sent him word, that he next day would dine  
At the Lord Cheinies, and would rise betime,  
And on the way their purpose might fulfil,  
Well, I'll reward you, when that you him kill.   

Next morn betimes, before the break of day,  
To take him napping then they took their way;  
But such a mist and fog there did arise,  
They could not see although they had four eyes.   

Thus Arden scaped these villains where  
And yet they heard his horse go by that way,  
I think (said Will) some Spirit is his friend,  
Come life or death, I vaw to see his end.   

Then to my house they straight did take their way,  
Telling me how they miss of their prey;  
Then presently, we did together 'gree,  
At night at home that he should murdered be.   

Mosby and I, and all, our plot thus lay,  
That he at Tables should with Arden play,  
Blackwill, and Sakebag they themselves should hide  
Until that Mosby he a watchword cried.   

The word was this whereon we did agree,  
Now (Master Arden) I have taken ye:  
Woe to that word, and woe unto us all,  
Which bred confusion and our sudden fall.   

When he came home, most welcome him I made,  
And judas like I kissed whom I betrayed,  
Mosby and he together went to play,  
For I on purpose did the tables lay.   

And as they played, the word was straightway spoke,  
Blacke-Will and Sakebag out the corner-broke,  
And with a Towel backwards pulled him down,  
which made me think they now my joys did crown   

With swords and knives they stabbed him to the heart  
Mosby and I did likewise act our part,  
And then his body strait we did convey  
Behind the Abbey in the field he lay.   

And then by justice we were strait condemned,  
Each of us came unto a shameless end,  
For God our secret dealings soon did spy,  
And brought to light our shameful villainy.   

Thus have you heard of Arden's tragedy,  
It rests to show you how the rest did die:  
His wife at Canterbury she was burnt,  
And all her flesh and bones to ashes turned.   

Mosby and his fair Sister, they were brought  
To London for the trespass they had wrought,  
In Smithfield on a gibbet they did die,  
A just reward for all their villainy,   

Michael and Bradshaw, which a Goldsmith was,  
That knew of letters which from them did pass,  
At Feversham were hanged both in chains,  
And well rewarded for their faithful pains.   

The painter fled none knows how be did speed,  
Sakebag in Southwark he to death did bleed,  
For as he thought to scape and run away,  
He suddenly was murdered in a fray.   

In Kent at Osbridge, Greene did suffer death,  
Hanged on a gibbet he did lose his breath:  
Blacke-Will at Flushing on a stage did burn,  
Thus each one came unto his end by turn.   

And thus my story I conclude and end,  
Praying the Lord that he his grace will send  
Upon us all, and keep us all from ill.  
Amen say all, if't be thy blessed will.    
FINIS.   

Printed at London for C. W.