An excellent ballad of George Barnwel an apprentice of London, who was undone by a strumpet, who having thrice robbed his master, and murdered his uncle in Ludlow. The tune is, The merchant.

An excellent Ballad of George Barnwel an Apprentice of London, who was undone by a strumpet, who having thric•• robbed his Master, and murdered his Vncle in Ludlow.

The tune is, The Merchant.

ALL youths of faire England, that dwell both far and near Regard my story that I tell, and to my Song give ear; A London Lad I was, a Merchants Prentice bound, My name George Barnwel that did spend my Master many a pound, Lake héed of Harlots then and their inticing trains; For by that means I have béen brought to hang alive in Chains. As I upon a day was walking through the stréet, About my Masters business, I did a woman méet; A gallant dainty Dame and sumptuous in attire, With smiling looks she gréeted me and did my name require. Which when I had declar'd the gave me then a kiss, And said if I would come to her, I should have more then this, Infaith my Boy (quoth she) such news I can thée tell, As shall rejoyce thy very heart, then come where I do dwell, Fa••r Mistris then said I, if I the place may know, This evening I will be with you, for I abroad must go. To gather mony in; that is my Masters due, And ere that I do home return, Ile come and visit you. Good Barnwel then (quoth she) do thou to Shoreditch come, And ask for Mis. Milwood there next door unto the Gun. And trust me on my truth, if thou kéep touch with me For thy friends sake as my own heart thou shalt right welcome be. Thus parted we in peace, and home I passed right, Then went abroad and gathered in by six a clock at night, An undred pounds and one, with bag under mine arm, I went to Mis. Milwoods house and thought on little harm. And knocking at the door straight way her self came down. Rustling in most brave attire, her Hood and silken Gown. Who though her beauty bright, so gloriously did shine. That she amaz'd my dazling Eys, she seemed so Divine. She took me by the hand, and with a modest grace, Welcom sweet Barnwel then (qd. she) unto this homely place, Welcom ten thousand times more welcome then m•• brother▪ And better welcome I protest then any one or other: And seeing I have thee found, as good as thy word to be, A homely supper ere thou part thou shalt take here with me, O pardon me quoth I, fair Mistris I you pray, For why, out of my Masters house so long I dare not stay. Alas good Sir she said, art thou so strictly ty'd, You may not with your dearest friend one hour or two abide: Faith then the case is hard if it be so (quoth she) I would I were a Prentice bound to live in house with thee. Therefore my sweetest George, list well what I do say, And do not blame a woman much her fancy to bewray. Let not affections force be counted lewd desire, Nor think it not immodesty I would thy love require. With that she turn'd aside and with a blushing red, A mournful motion she bewray'd, by holding down her head: A Hankerchiffe she had all wrought with silk and gold, Which she to stop her trickling tears against her eys did hold. This thing unto my sight was wondrous rare and strange And in my mind & inward thoughts it wrought a sudden change. That I so hardy was, to take her by the hand. Saying sweet Mistris why do you so sad and heavy stand: Call me no Mistris now, but Sara thy true friend, Thy servant Sara honouring thée, untill her life hath end. If thou wouldst here alledge, thou art it years a boy, So was Adonis, yet was he fair Venus Love and Ioy. Thus I that nere before of women found such grace, And seeing now so fair a Dame gave me a kind imbrace. I supt with her that night, with joys that did abound, And for the same paid presently in mony twice thrée pound. A hundred kisses then, for my farewell she gave, Saying swéet Barnwel when shall I again thy company have: O stay not too long my dear sweet George have me in mind, Her worlds bewitcht his childish-•••••••• she uttered them so kind So that I made a vow, next sunday without fail, With my sweet Sara once again to tell some pleasant tale. When she heard me say so the tears fell from her eyes, O George quoth she if thou dost fail thy Sara sure will dye, Though long yet so at last the pointed time was come. That I must with my Sara méet having a mighty sum. Of mony in my hand. unto her house went I Whereas my Love upon her bed, in saddest sort did lye. What ayls my hearts Delight? my Sara Dear (quoth he) Let not my Love lament & grieve, nor sighing pain and dye, But tell to me my Dearest friend what may thy woes amend? And thou shalt lack no means of help tho forty pound I spend. With that she turn'd her head, & sickly thus did say, O my sweet George my grief is great ten pounds I have to pay, Vnto a cruel wretch, and God he knows (quoth she) I have it not. Tush rise quoth I and take it here of me, Ten pounds, nor ten times ten shall make my love decay, Then from his Bag into her lap, he cast ten pounds straight way, All blith and pleasant then, to banquetting they go, She proffered him to lye with her and said it should be so. And after that same time, I gave her store of Coyn, Yea sometimes fifty pound at once all which I did purloyn. And thus I did pass on, untill my Master then, Did call to have his reckoning in cast up among his men The which when as I heard, I knew not what to say, For well I knew that I was out, two hundred pound that day Then from my Master straight I run in secret sort. And unto Sara Milwood then my state I did report, But how she us'd this youth, in this his extream need, The which did her necessity, so oft with mony feed. The second part behold, shall tell it forth at large, And shall a strumpets wily ways with all her tricks discharge,

HEre coms young Barnwel unto thée swéet Sara my delight, I am undone except thou stand my faithful friend this night Our Master to command accompts hath just occasion found, And I am come behind the hand almost two hundred pound. And therefore knowing not at all, what answer for to make, And his displeasure to escape, my way to thée I take. Hoping that in this extremity, thou wilt my succour be. That for a time he may remain in secret here with thée. With that she knit and bent, her brows and looking all aquoy Qd. she what should I have to do, with any prentice boy? And seeing you have purloynd and got your Masters goods away The case is had, and therefore here I mean thou shalt not stay Why sweetheart thou knowst he said that all which I did get, I gave it and did spend it all upon thee every whit: Thou knowst I loved thee so well, thou could'st not ask the thing, But that I did incotinent, the same unto thee bring. Quoth she thou art a paultry Jack to charge me in this sort, Being a woman of credit good. and known of good report. And therefore this I tel thee flat, be packing with good speed I do defie thée from my heart, and scorn thy filthy deed Is this the love & friendship which thou didst to me protest, Is this the greatest affection which you seemed to exprese: Now fie on all deceitfull shews the best is I may spéed, To get a lodging any where, for mony in my need. Therefore false woman now fare-well while twenty pound doth last, My Anchor in some other Haven. I will with wisdome cast When she perceiving by his words that he had mony store. That she had gul'd him in such sort it griev'd her heart full sore. Therefore to call him back again, she did suppose it best. Stay George quoth she, thou art too quick wyh man I do but jest? Think'st thou for all my passed spéech that I would let thée go: Faith no qd, she my love to thée I wis is more then so. You will not deal with Prentice boys I heard you even now swear Therefore I will not trouble you: my George heark in thine ear, Thou shalt not go to night qd. she what chance so ere befall, But man we'l have a bed for thée, or else the Divel take all, thus I y^t was with wiles bewitch'd and snar'd with fancy still Had not the power to put away or to withstand her will Then Wine and Wine I called in and ch••••r upon good chear And nothing in y^e world I thought, for Sarahs love too dear. Whilst I was in her company, in joy and merriment, And all too little I did think, that I upon her spent, A fig for care and careful thought when all my gold is gone, In faith my girl we will have more who ere it light upon. My Father's rich, why then qd. I, would I want any gold, With a Father indeed quoth she a son may well be bold. I have a sister richly wed, Ile rob her ere Ile want: Why then qd. Sara they may well, consider of your want. Nay more, then this an Uncle I have at Ludlovv he doth dwell. He is a Graster which in wealth, doth all the rest excell. Ere I will live in lack quoth he, and have no coyn for thee, Ile rob y^e Church and murder him why should you not quoth she, Ere I would want, were I a man, or live in poor estate, On father, friends and all my kin I would my talons grate; For without mony George qd. she a man is but a beast, And bringing mony thou shalt be always my chiefest guest. For say thou should'st pursued be, with twenty Hues and cryes And with a warrant searched for with Argo's hundred eyes, Yet in my house thou shalt be safe such privy wayes there be, That if they sought an hundred ye∣are they could not find out thée, and so carousing in their cups their pleasures to content, George Barnwel had in little space his mony wholly spent. Which being done. to Ludlow then he did provide to go, To rod his wealthy Uncle then his Minion would it so, And once or twice he thought to take his father by the way, But y^• he thought his Master there took order for his stay, Directly to his Uncle then. he rode with might and main, Where with good welcom and good cheer he did him entertain. A sennit space he stayed there untill it chanced so, His Uncle with fat Cattle did unto a Market go. His ki••sman needs must ride with him and when he saw right plain, Great store of mony he had took in coming home again, Most suddenly within a wood He struck his Uncle down, And beat his brains out of his head so sore he crackt his Crown. And fourscore pound in ready coyn out of his purse he took. And coming unto London straight the Country quite forsook, To Sara Milwood, then he came, shewing his store of gold, And how he had his Uncle slain, to her he plainly told, Tush tis no matter George qd. she so we the mony have, To have good ••héer in folly sort and deck us fine and brave. And thus they liv'd in fifthy sort, till all his store was gone, And means to get them any more I wis poor George had none. And there••ore now in ratling sort she thrust him out of Door, Which is the just reward they get, that spend upon a Whore. O do me not this vile disgrace, in this my need quoth he, She cal'd him thief and murderer, with all despight may be: And to the Constable she went to have him apprehended, And shew'd in each degree how far he had the Law offended, When Barnwel saw her drist, to Sea he got straight way, Where fear & Dread, & Conscience sting upon him still doth stay. Vnto the Mayor of London then he did a Letter write, Wherein his own & Sarahs faults he did at large recite, Whereby she apprehended was and then to Ludlow sent. where she was judg'd, condemnd & hangd for murder incontinént. And there this gallant Quean did dye this was her greatest gains. For murdering in Polonia was Barnwel hang'd in chains Lo here's the end of wilful youth, that after Harlots haunt, Who in the spoyle of other men about the streets do flaunt.

FINIS.