The most rare and excellent History Of the Duchess of Suffolk's calamity.  
To the tune of Queen Dido.  

 

WHen God had taken for our sin,  
that prudent Prince K. Edward away,  
Then bloody Bonner did begin  
his raging malice to bewray,  
All those that did God's Word profess,  
He persecuted more or less.   

Thus whilst the Lord on us did lower,  
many in prison he did throw,  
Tormenting them in Lollards tower,  
whereby they might the truth forgo,  
Then Cranmer, Ridley and the rest,  
Were burned in fire that Christ professed.   

Smithfield was then with faggots filled,  
and many places more beside;  
At Coventry was Saunders killed;  
at Worster eke good Hooper died,  
And to escape this bloody day,  
Beyond Seas many fled away.   

Amongst the rest that sought release,  
and for their faith in danger stood,  
Lady Elizabeth was chief  
King Henry's daughter of royal blood,  
Which in the Tower did prisoner lie,  
Looking each day when she should dye,   

The Duchess of Suffolk seeing this,  
whose life likewise the tyrant sought,  
Who in the hope of heavenly bliss,  
within God's Word her comfort wrought,  
For fear of death was fain to fly,  
And leave her house most secretly.   

That for the love of God alone,  
her land and goods she left behind,  
Seeking still for that precious stone  
the Word of truth so rare to find,  
She with her nurse, husband, and child,  
In poor array their sights beguiled,   

Thus through London they passed along,  
each one did take a several street:  
Thus all along escaping wrong,  
at Billingsgate they all did meet:  
Like people poor in Gravesend Barge,  
They simply went with all their charge.   

And all along from Gravesend town,  
with journey's short on foot they went  
Unto the Sea-coast they come down,  
to pass the Seas was their intent,  
And God provided so that day,  
That they took ship and sailed away.   

And with a prosperous gale of wind,  
in Flanders safe they did arrive,  
This was to their great ease of mind,  
and from their heart much woe did drive  
And so with thankes to God on high,  
They took their way to Germany.   

Thus as they travelled still disguised  
upon the high way suddenly,  
By cruel théeves they were surprised,  
assailing their small company.  
And all their treasure and their store  
They took away and beat them sore.   

The Nurse in midst of their fight,  
laid down the child upon the ground,  
She ran away out of their sight,  
and never after that was found.  
Then did the Duchess make great moan,  
With her good husband all alone.   

The théeves had there their horses killed,  
and all their money quite had taken,  
The pretty Baby almost spoilt,  
was by the nurse likewise forsook:  
And they far from their friends did stand,  
And succourless in a strange land.    

The second part,  
To the same tune.  
 

THe Sky likewise began to scowl,  
it hailed and reigned in piteous sort,  
The way was long and wondrous foul:  
then may I now full well report;  
Their grief and sorrow was not small,  
When this unhappy chance did fall.   

Sometimes the Duchess bore the child,  
all wet as ever she could be;  
And when the Lady kind and mild  
was weary, than the child bore he,  
And thus they one another eased,  
And with their fortunes were well pleased   

And after many weary steps  
all wetshod both in dirt and mire,  
after much grief their hearts yet leaps,  
for labour doth some rest require.  
A town before them they did see,  
But lodged therein he could not be.   

From house to house then they did go,  
seeking that night where they might lie,  
But want of money was their woe,  
and still their babe with cold did cry:  
With cap and knee they courtesy make,  
But none on them would pity take.   

Lo here a Princess of great blood,  
doth pray a peasant for relief,  
With tears bedewed as she stood,  
yet few or none regards her grief.  
Her speech they could not understand,  
But gave her money in her hand.   

When all in vain their pains were spent,  
and that they could no house room get,  
Into a Church porch than they went,  
to stand out of the rain and wet:  
Then said the Duchess to her dear,  
O that we had some fire here.   

Then did her husband so provide,  
that fire and coals he got with speed,  
She sat down by the fire side,  
to dress her daughter that had need:  
And while she dressed it in her lap,  
Her husband made the infant pap.   

Anon the Sexton thither came,  
and finding them there by the fire,  
The drunken knave, all void of shame,  
to drive them out was his desire,  
And spurning forth the Noble Dame,  
Her Husband's wrath it did inflame.   

And all in fury as he stood,  
he wrung the Church keys out his hand;  
And struck him so that all of blood  
his head ran down where he did stand  
Wherefore the Sexton presently,  
For help and aid aloud did cry.   

Then came the officers in haste,  
and took the Duchess and her child,  
And with her husband thus they passed,  
like Lambs beset with Tiger's wild's;  
And to the Governor were brought,  
Who understood them not in aught.   

Then master Bartu brave and bold,  
in Latin made a gallant speech,  
Which all their misery did unfold,  
and their high favour did beseech,  
With that a Doctor sitting by,  
Did know the Duchess presently.   

And thereupon arising strait,  
with words abashed at this sight:  
Unto them all that there did wait,  
he thus broke forth in words aright:  
Behold within your sight quoth he,  
A Princess of most high degree.   

With that the Governor and the rest  
were all amazed the same to hear,  
Who welcomed this new come guest,  
with reverence great, & princely cheer.  
And afterward coveyed they were  
Unto their friend Prince Cassimer.   

A son she had in Germany,  
Peregrine Bar●u called by name,  
Surnamed the good Lord Willoughby,  
of courage great and worthy same:  
Her daughter young which with her went  
Was afterwards Countess of Kent.   

For when Queen Mary was dereast  
the Duchess home returned again,  
Who was of sorrow quite released,  
by Queen Elizabeth's happy reign,  
Whose godly life and piety,  
We all may praise continually.    
FINIS.   

London Printed for Edward Wright Dwelling as Christ Church gate.