Courtly new Ballad of the Princely wooing of the fair Maid of London, by King Edward.  
To the tune of, Bonny sweet robin.  

FAaire angel of England, thy beauty most bright'  
Is all my heart's treasure my joy and delight:  
Then grant me sweet Lady thy true Love to be,  
That I may say welcome good fortune to me.   

The Turtle so true and chaste in her love,  
By gentle persuasions her fancy will move:  
Then been of entreated sweet Lady in vain,  
For Nature requireth what I would obtain.   

What phoenix so fair that liveth alone,  
Is vowed to chastity being but one?  
But be not my Darling so chaste in desire,  
Lest thou like the phoenix do penance in fire.   

But alas (gallant Lady) I pity thy state,  
In ●e●●g refolved to live without mate:  
For if of our courting the pleasure you knew,  
You shall have a liking the same to ensue.   

Long time I have sued the same to obtain,  
Yet am I requited with scornful disdain:  
But if you will grant your good will to me,  
You shall be advanced to Princely degree.   

Promotions and honours may often entice  
The chastest that liveth, though never so nice;  
What woman so worthy but will be contenc,  
To live in the Palace where Princes frequent?   

Two Brides young & princely to Church have I led,  
Two Ladies most lovely have decked my bed:  
Yet hath thy love taken more root in my heart,  
Than all their contentments whereof I had part.   

Your gentle hearts cannot men's tears much abide,  
And women least angry when most they do chide:  
Then yield to me kindly and say that at length,  
Men do want mercy, and poor women strength.   

I grant fair Ladies may poor men resist,  
But Princes will conquer and love whom they list:  
A King may command her to lie by his side,  
Whose feature deserveth to be a King's Bride.   

In granting your love you shall purchase renown,  
Your head shall be decked with England's fair crown,  
Thy garment most gallant with gold shall be wrought  
If true love for treasure of thee may be bought.   

Great Ladies of honour shall tend on thy train,  
Most richly attired with scarlet in grain:  
My chamber most Princely thy person shall keep,  
Where Virgins with music shall rock thee asleep.   

If any more pleasures thy heart can invent,  
Command them sweet Lady thy mind to content:  
For Kings gallant Courts where Princes do dwell  
Afford such sweet pastimes as Ladies love well.   

Then be not resolved to die a true Maid,  
But print in thy bosom the words I have said:  
And grant a King favour thy true love to be,  
That I may say welcome sweet Virgin to me.   

The fair Maid of London's answer to King Edward's wanton Love.  
To the same tune.  

OH wanton King Edward thy labour is vain,  
To follow the pleasure thou canst not attain,  
Which getting thou losest, and having dost wast it  
The which is thou purchase is spoiled if thou hast it:   

But if thou obtain'st it thou nothing hast won,  
And I losing nothing yet quite am undone,  
But if of that jewel a King do deceive me,  
No King can restore though a Kingdom he give me.   

My colour is changed since you saw me last,  
My favour is vanished, my beauty is past  
The Roses red blushes that sat on my cheeks,  
To paleness are turned, which all men mislikes.   

I pass not what Princes for love do protest,  
The name of a Virgin contenteth me best:  
I have not deserved to sleep by thy side,  
Nor to be accounted for King Edward's bride.   

The name of a Princess I never did crave,  
No such type of honour thy handmaid will have,  
My breast shall not harbour so lofty a thought,  
Nor be with rich proffers to wantonness brought.   

If wild wanton Rosamond one of our sort,  
Had never frequented King Henry's brave Court:  
Such heaps of deep sorrow she never had seen,  
Nor tasted the rage of a jealous Queen.   

All men have their freedom to show their intent,  
They win not a woman except she consent:  
Who then can impute to a man any fault▪  
Who still goes uprightly while women do halt.   

'Tis counted kindness in men for to try,  
And virtue in women the same to deny:  
For women inconstant can never be proved,  
Until by their betters therein they be moved.   

If women and modesty once do but sever,  
Then farewell good name and credit for ever  
And royal King Edward let me be exil●e,  
Ere any man knows my body's defiled.   

No, no, my old Fathers reverent tears,  
Too deep an impression within my soul bears:  
Nor shall his bright honour that blot by me have,  
To bring his grey hairs with grief to the grave.   

The heavens forbid that when I should die,  
That any such sin upon my soul lie:  
If I have kept me from doing this sin.  
My heart shall not yield with a Prince to begin.   

Come rather with pity to weep on my tomb,  
Then for my birth curse my dear mother's Womb,  
That brought forth a blossom that strained the tree,  
With wanton desires to sh●me her and me.   

Leave me (most noble King) tempt not in vain,  
My milk-whiie affections with lewdness to stain:  
Though England will give me no comfort at ail,  
Yet England shall yield me a sad burial.    
FINIS.   

London Printed for Henry Gosson.