The lamentable fall of Queen Elinor, who for her pride and wickedness by God's judgements, sunk into the ground at Charing cross, and rose up again at Queen Hive.  
To the tune of Gentle and Courteous.  

When Edward was in England king  
the first of all that name:  
Proud Elinor he made his Queen,  
a stately Spanish Dame,  
Whose wicked life and sinful pride,  
through England did excel:  
To dainty Dames and gallant Maids,  
this Queen was known full well.   

She was the first that did invent  
in Coaches brave to ride,  
She was the first that brought this land  
the deadly sin of pride.  
No English Tailor here could serve  
to make her rich attire:  
But sent for Tailors into Spain,  
to feed her vain desire.   

They brought in fashions strange and new  
with golden garments bright:  
The farthingale, and mighty cuffs,  
with gowns of rare delight  
Our London dames is Spamish pride,  
did flourish every where,  
Our English men like women then,  
did wear long locks of hair.   

Both man and child, both maid & wife,  
were drowned in Pride if Spain,  
And though the Spanish Tailors then  
our English men did stain:  
Whereat the Queen did much despite  
to see our English men.  
In vestuees clad, as brave to see,  
as any Spaniard then.   

She craved the King that every man,  
that wore long locks of hair,  
Might then be cut and pulled all,  
or shaved very near.  
Whereat the King did seem content,  
and soon thereto agreed,  
And first commanded that his own  
should then be cut with speed,   

And after that to please his Queen,  
proclaimed through the land,  
That every man that wore long hair,  
should paul him out of hand.  
But yet this Spaniard not content,  
to women bore a spite:  
And then requested of the King,  
against all law and right.   

That every womankind should have  
her right breast cut away:  
And then with burning Irons seared,  
the blood to stench and stay,  
King Edward then perceiving well,  
her spite to women kind:  
Devised soon by policy,  
to turn her bloody mind.   

He sent for burning Irons strait,  
all sparking hot to see:  
And said, O Queen come on thy way,  
I will begin with thee.  
Which words did much displease the Queen  
that penance to begin,  
But asked him pardon on her knees,  
who gave her grace therein.   

But afterward she chanced to pass  
along brave London streets,  
Whereas the Mayor of Londonds' wife,  
in stately sort she meets.  
With music, mirth and melody  
unto the Church that went,  
To give God thanks, that to Lo. Maior  
a noble Son had sent.   

It grieved much this spiteful Queen,  
to see that any one,  
Should so exceed in mirth and joy,  
except herself alone:  
For which she after did device.  
within her bloody mind,  
And practised still most secretly,  
to kill that Lady kind.   

Unto Lord Mayor of London then,  
she sent he Letters strait,  
To send his Lady to the Court,  
upon her Grace to wait:  
But when the London Lady came  
before proud Elnor's face,  
She stripped her from her rich array,  
and kept her vile and base,   

She sent her into wales with speed,  
and kept her secret there,  
And used her still more cruelly,  
then ever man did hear:  
She made her wash she made her starch  
she made her drudge always:  
She made her nurse up children small,  
and labour night and day.   

But this contented not the Queen,  
but showed her more despite:  
She bond this Lady to a post:  
at twelve a clock at night,  
And as (poor Lady) she stood bound,  
the Queen in angry mood,  
Did set two snakes unto her breast,  
that sucked away her blood.   

Thus died the Mayor of London's wife,  
most grievous for to hear:  
Which made the Spaniard grow more proud,  
as after shall appear.  
The wheat that daily made her bread  
was bolted twenty times,  
The food that fed this stately Dame,  
was boiled in costly wines.   

The water that did spring from ground  
she would not touch at all,  
But washed her hands with dew of heaven  
that on sweet Roses fall,  
She bathed her body many a time,  
in fountains filled with milk,  
And every day did change attire,  
in costly Median silk.   

But coming then to London back,  
within her coach of gold,  
A tempest strange within the skies,  
this Queen did there behold:  
Out of which storm she could not go,  
but their remained a space,  
Four horses could not stir her Coach  
a foot out of that place.   

A judgement surely sent from heaven,  
for shedding guiltless blood,  
Upon this sinful Queen, that slew  
the London Lady good.  
King Edward then (as wisdom wild)  
accused her for that deed:  
But she denied, and wished that God  
would send his wrath with speed,   

If that upon so vile a thing  
her heart did ever think,  
She wished the ground might open wide,  
and therein she might sink:  
With that at Charingcross she sunk,  
into the ground alive,  
And after rose with life again,  
in London at Queene-hive.   

Where after that she languished sore,  
full twenty days in pain:  
At last confessed, the Lady's blood  
her guilty hands did stain:  
And likewise how that by a Friar  
she had a base borne child,  
Whose sinful lust and wickedness,  
her marriage bed defiled.   

Thus you have heard the fall of pride,  
a just reward of sin:  
For those that will forswear themselues  
God's vengeance daily win,  
Beware of pride ye London Dames,  
both Wives and Maidens all,  
Bear this imprinted in your mind,  
that pride must have a fall.   
FINIS.   

Printed by the Assigns of Thomas Symcocke▪