A worthy example of a vertuous wife who fed her father with her own milk, being condemned to be famished to death and after was pardoned by the Emperor. To the tune of Flying fame.

A worthy example of a vertuous wife, who fed her father with her own milk, being condemned to be famished to death and after was pardoned by the Emperor.

To the tune of Flying Fame.

[illustration]

IN Rome I read a Noble man, the Emperor did offend, And for that fact he was adjudg'd vnto a cruell end: That he should be in prison cast, with irons many a one, And there be famisht vnto death, and brought to skin and bone.

And more, if any one were knowne, by night or yet by day, To bring him any kind of food, his hunger to allay: The Emperour swore a mighty oath▪ without remorse (quoth he) Thou shalt sustaine the cruellest death that may deuised be.

This cruel sentence once pronounc'd, the Noble man was cast, Into a dungeon darke and déepe, with irons fettered fast: Where when he had with hunger great, remained ten daies space, And neither tasted bread nor drink, in this most wofull case.

The teares along his aged face, most plentiously did fall, And grieuously he did begin for to complaine withall: O Lord, quoth he, what shall I doe, so hungry Lord am I, For want of bread, one bit of bread, I famish starue and die.

How precious were one corne of wheat, vnto my hungry soule, One crust, one crum, one little péece, my hunger to controle: Had I this dungeon heap'd with Gold, I would forgoe it all, To 〈◊〉〈◊〉 and purchase one browne loafe, yea were it nere so small.

O that I had but euery day, one bit of bread to eate, Though nere so mouldy black or browne my comfort would be great: Yea albeit I tooke it vp, trod downe in dirt and mire, It would be pleasing to my taste, and swéet to my desire.

Good Lord how happy is the Hinde, that labours all the day, The drudging slaue, the peasant poore, which at commandement stay: These haue their ordinary meales, they take no héed at all Of those swéet crums and crusts, that they so carelesly let fall.

How happy is the little chick, that without feare may goe, And pick vp those most precious crums, which they away doe throw. O that same pretty little mouse, so much my friend would be, To bring some old forsaken crust, into this place to me.

But oh my heart I wish in vaine, no succour I can haue. No meat, no drink, no water eke, my loathed life to saue. O bring some bread for Christ his sake, some bread, some bread to me, I die, I die, for lack of bread, nought but stone walls I sée.

Thus day and night he cryed out, in most outragious sort, That all the country farre and néere, were grieu'd at his report. And though that many friends he had, and daughters in the towne, Yet none durst come to succour him, fearing the Emperours frowne.

The second part,

To the same tune▪

YEt now behold one daughter deare, he had as I doe find. Which liu'd in his displeasure great, for matching 'gainst his mind: Although she liu'd in meane estate, she was a vertuous wife, And for to helpe her father deare, shée ventured thus her life.

She quickly to her sisters ran, and did of them intreat, That by some secret meanes they would conuay their Father meat. Our father deare doth starue, she said, the Emperours wrath is such, He dies alas for want of food, whereof we haue too much.

Swéet sisters therefore vse some meanes, his life for to preserue, And suffer not our father deare, in prison for to starue: Alas quoth they, what shall we doe, his hunger to sustaine? You know tis death to any one, that would his life maintaine.

And though we wish him well, quoth they we neuer will agrée, To spoile our selues, we had as léefe that he should die, as wée. And sister, if you loue your selfe, let this attempt alone, Though you doe nere so secret worke, at length it will be knowne.

O hath our Father brought vs vp, and nourisht vs, quoth she, And shall we now forsake him quite, in his extremity? No, I will venture life and limb, to doe my father good, The worst that is I can but die, to fit a tyrants mood.

With that away she hies in haste, and to the Iayle she goes, But with her wofull father deare, she might not speake God knowes, Except the Emperor would grant his fauour in that case: The Kéeper would admit no wight to enter in that place.

Then she vnto the Emperour hyes, and falling on her knée, With wringing hands and bitter teares, these words pronounced she: My hopelesse Father, gratious Lord, offending of your Grace, Is iudg'd vnto a pining death, within a wofull place:

Which I confesse he hath deserud, yet mighty Prince, quoth she, Uouchsafe in gracious sort, to grant one simple boone to me: It chanced so, I matcht my selfe, against my fathers mind, Whereby I did procure his wrath, as fortune false assignd.

And séeing now the time is come, he must resigne his breath, Uouchsafe that I may speake with him before his houre of death: And reconcile my selfe to him, his fauour to attaine, That when he dies I may not then vnder his curse remaine.

The Emperor granted her request, conditionally that she, Each time she to her father came, should throughly searched be. No bread no meat with her she brought to helpe him there distrest, But euery day she nourisht him, with her most tender brest.

Thus by her milke he was preseru'd, a twelue month and a day, And was most faire and fat to sée, yet no man knew which way. The Emperor musing much thereat, at length did vnderstand, How he was fed, and yet his law not broke at any hand.

And much admiring at the same, and her great vertue showne, Hee pardon'd him, and honor'd her, with great preferments knowne. Her Father euer after that, did loue her as his life, And blest the time that shee was made, a louing wedded wife.

FINIS.