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170A: The Death of Queen Jane

 
 170A.1	 QUEEN JANE was in labour full six weeks and more,
 	 And the women were weary, and fain would give oer:
 	 ‘O women, O women, as women ye be,
 	 Rip open my two sides, and save my baby!’
 170A.2	 ‘O royal Queen Jane, that thing may not be;
 	 We’ll send for King Henry to come unto thee.’
 	 King Henry came to her, and sate on her bed:
 	 ‘What ails my dear lady, her eyes look so red?’
 170A.3	 ‘O royal King Henry, do one thing for me:
 	 Rip open my two sides, and save my baby!’
 	 ‘O royal Queen Jane, that thing will not do;
 	 If I lose your fair body, I’ll lose your baby too.’
 170A.4	 She wept and she waild, and she wrung her hands sore;
 	 O the flour of England must flurish no more!
 	 She wept and she waild till she fell in a swoond,
 	 They opend her two sides, and the baby was found.
 170A.5	 The baby was christened with joy and much mirth,
 	 Whilst poor Queen Jane’s body lay cold under earth:
 	 There was ringing and singing and mourning all day,
 	 The princess Eliz[abeth] went weeping away.
 170A.6	 The trumpets in mourning so sadly did sound,
 	 And the pikes and the muskets did trail on the ground.
 	 . . . .
 	 . . . .
 
 
 

170B: The Death of Queen Jane

 
 170B.1	 QUEEN JEANIE, Queen Jeanie, traveld six weeks and more,
 	 Till women and midwives had quite gien her oer:
 	 ‘O if ye were women as women should be,
 	 Ye would send for a doctor, a doctor to me.’
 170B.2	 The doctor was called for and set by her bedside:
 	 ‘What aileth thee, my ladie, thine eyes seem so red?’
 	 ‘O doctor, O doctor, will ye do this for me,
 	 To rip up my two sides, and save my babie?’
 170B.3	 ‘Queen Jeanie, Queen Jeanie, that’s the thing I’ll neer do,
 	 To rip up your two sides to save your babie:’
 	 Queen Jeanie, Queen Jeanie, traveld six weeks and more,
 	 Till midwives and doctors had quite gien her oer.
 170B.4	 ‘O if ye were doctors as doctors should be,
 	 Ye would send for King Henry, King Henry to me:’
 	 King Henry was called for, and sat by her bedside,
 	 ‘What aileth thee, Jeanie? what aileth my bride?’
 170B.5	 ‘King Henry, King Henry, will ye do this for me,
 	 To rip up my two sides, and save my babie?’
 	 ‘Queen Jeanie, Queen Jeanie, that’s what I’ll never do,
 	 To rip up your two sides to save your babie.’
 170B.6	 But with sighing and sobbing she’s fallen in a swoon,
 	 Her side it was ript up, and her babie was found;
 	 At this bonie babie’s christning there was meikle joy and mirth,
 	 But bonnie Queen Jeanie lies cold in the earth.
 170B.7	 Six and six coaches, and six and six more,
 	 And royal King Henry went mourning before;
 	 O two and two gentlemen carried her away,
 	 But royal King Henry went weeping away.
 170B.8	 O black were their stockings, and black were their bands,
 	 And black were the weapons they held in their hands;
 	 O black were their mufflers, and black were their shoes,
 	 And black were the cheverons they drew on their luves.
 170B.9	 They mourned in the kitchen, and they mournd in the ha,
 	 But royal King Henry mournd langest of a’:
 	 Farewell to fair England, farewell for evermore!
 	 For the fair flower of England will never shine more.
 
 
 

170C: The Death of Queen Jane

 
 170C.1	 QUEEN JEANY has traveld for three days and more,
 	 Till the ladies were weary, and quite gave her oer:
 	 ‘O ladies, O ladies, do this thing for me,
 	 To send for King Henry, to come and see me.’
 170C.2	 King Henry was sent for, and sat by her bedside:
 	 ‘Why weep you, Queen Jeany? your eyes are so red.’
 	 ‘O Henry, O Henry, do this one thing for me,
 	 Let my side straight be opend, and save my babie!’
 170C.3	 ‘O Jeany, O Jeany, this never will do,
 	 It will leese thy sweet life, and thy young babie too.’
 	 She wept and she wailed, till she fell in a swoon:
 	 Her side it was opened, the babie was found.
 170C.4	 Prince Edward was christened with joy and with mirth,
 	 But the flower of fair England lies cold in the earth.
 	 O black was King Henry, and black were his men,
 	 And black was the steed that King Henry rode on.
 170C.5	 And black were the ladies, and black were their fans,
 	 And black were the gloves that they wore on their hands,
 	 And black were the ribbands they wore on their heads,
 	 And black were the pages, and black were the maids.
 	 * * * * *
 170C.6	 The trumpets they sounded, the cannons did roar,
 	 But the flower of fair England shall flourish no more.
 	 . . . .
 	 . . . .
 
 
 

170D: The Death of Queen Jane

 
 170D.1	 QUEEN JANE was in travail for six weeks or more,
 	 Till the women grew tired and fain would give oer:
 	 ‘O women, O women, good wives if ye be,
 	 Go send for King Henrie, and bring him to me!’
 170D.2	 King Henrie was sent for, he came with all speed,
 	 In a gownd of green velvet from heel to the head:
 	 ‘King Henrie, King Henrie, if kind Henrie you be,
 	 Send for a surgeon, and bring him to me!’
 170D.3	 The surgeon was sent for, he came with all speed,
 	 In a gownd of black velvet from heel to the head;
 	 He gave her rich caudle, but the death-sleep slept she,
 	 Then her right side was opened, and the babe was set free.
 170D.4	 The babe it was christened, and put out and nursed,
 	 While the royal Queen Jane she lay cold in the dust.
 	 . . . .
 	 . . . .
 170D.5	 So black was the mourning, and white were the wands,
 	 Yellow, yellow the torches they bore in their hands;
 	 The bells they were muffled, and mournful did play,
 	 While the royal Queen Jane she lay cold in the clay.
 170D.6	 Six knights and six lords bore her corpse through the grounds,
 	 Six dukes followed after, in black mourning gownds;
 	 The flower of Old England was laid in cold clay,
 	 Whilst the royal King Henrie came weeping away.
 
 
 

170E: The Death of Queen Jane

 
 170E.1	 ‘YE midwives and women-kind, do one thing for me;
 	 Send for my mother, to come and see me.’
 170E.2	 Her mother was sent for, who came speedilie:
 	 ‘O Jeanie, Queen Jeanie, are ye gaun to dee?’
 170E.3	 ‘O mother, dear mother, do one thing for me;
 	 O send for King Henry, to come and see me.’
 170E.4	 King Henry was sent for, who came speedilie:
 	 ‘O Jeanie, Queen Jeanie, are ye gaun to dee?’
 170E.5	 ‘King Henry, King Henry, do one thing for me;
 	 O send for a doctor, to come and see me.’
 170E.6	 The doctor was sent for, who came speedilie:
 	 ‘O Jeanie, Queen Jeanie, are ye gaun to dee?’
 170E.7	 ‘O doctor, oh doctor, do one thing for me;
 	 Open my left side, and let my babe free.’
 170E.8	 He opened her left side, and then all was oer,
 	 And the best flower in England will flourish no more.
 
 
 

170F: The Death of Queen Jane

 
 170F.1	 QUEEN JANE lies in labour six weeks or more,
 	 Till the women were tired, go see her no more:
 	 ‘Oh women, oh women, if women you be,
 	 You’ll send for King Henry, to come and see me.
 170F.2	 ‘Oh King Henry, King Henry, if King Henry you be,
 	 You’ll send for the doctor, to come and see me:
 	 Oh doctor, oh doctor, if a doctor you be,
 	 You’ll open my right side, and save my baby.’
 170F.3	 They churchd her, they chimed her, they dug her her grave,
 	 They buried her body, and christend her babe.
 
 
 

170G: The Death of Queen Jane

 
 170G.1	 QUEEN JEANIE was in labour full three days and more,
 	 Till a’ the good women was forced to gie her oer:
 	 ‘O guide women, gude women, gude women,’ quo she,
 	 ‘Will ye send for King Henry, to come and see me?’
 	 Wi weeping and wailing, lamenting full sore,
 	 That the flower of all England should flourish no more.
 170G.2	 King Henry was sent for, who came in great speed,
 	 Standing weeping and wailing at Queen Jeanie’s bedside;
 	 Standing weeping and wailing, etc.
 170G.3	 ‘O King Henry, King Henry, King Henry,’ quo she,
 	 ‘Will ye send for my mother  . .
 
 
 

170[H]: The Death of Queen Jane

 
 170[H].1	Queen Jane, O! Queen Jane, O! what a lady was she !
 	 And six weeks and a day in labour was she;
 	 Queen Jane was in labour for six weeks and more,
 	 Till the women grew weary and fain would give oer.
 167[H.2]	‘O women, O women, good wives as ye be,
 	 Go send for King Henry and bring him to me.’
 	 King Henry was sent for, and to her he came:
 	 ‘Dear lady, fair lady, your eyes they look dim.’
 167[H.3]	King Henry came to her, he came in all speed,
 	 In a gown of red velvet, from the heel to the head:
 	 ‘King Henry, King Henry, if kind you will be,
 	 Send for a good doctor, and let him come to me.’
 167[H.4]	The doctor was sent for, he came with all speed,
 	 In a gown of black velvet from the heel to the head;
 	 The doctor was sent for and to her he came:
 	 ‘Dear lady, fair lady, your labour’s in vain.’
 167[H.5]	‘Dear doctor, dear doctor, will you do this for me?
 	 O open my right side, and save my baby:’
 	 Then out spake King Henry, That never can be,
 	 I’d rather lose the branches than the top of the tree.
 167[H.6]	The doctor gave a caudle, the death-sleep slept she,
 	 Then her right side was opened and the babe was set free;
 	 The babe it was christened, and put out and nursd,
 	 But the royal Queen Jane lay cold in the dust.
 
 
 

170[I]: The Death of Queen Jane

 
 170[I].1	Queen Jeanie was in labor for seven weeks in summer,
 	 The women all being tired and quite gave her over:
 	 ‘O women, dear women, if women you be,
 	 Send for my mother to come and see me.’
 170[I.2]	Her mother was sent for and instantly came,
 	 Knelt down at the bedside where Queen Jeanie lay on:
 	 ‘O mother, dear mother, if mother you be,
 	 Send for my father to come and see me.’
 170[I.3]	The father was sent for and instantly came,
 	 Knelt down by the bedside where Queen Jeanie lay on:
 	 ‘O father, dear father, if father you be,
 	 Send for King Henry to come and see me.’
 170[I.4]	King Henry was sent for and instantly came,
 	 Knelt down by the bedside where Queen Jeanie lay on:
 	 ‘O Henry, King Henry, if Henry you be,
 	 Send for the doctor to come and see me.’
 170[I.5]	The doctor was sent for and instantly came,
 	 Knelt down by the bedside where Queen Jeanie lay on:
 	 ‘O doctor, dear doctor, if doctor you be,
 	 Open my left side and let the babe free.’
 170[I.6]	Her left side was opened, the young prince was found:
 	 ‘O doctor, dear doctor, lay me down on the ground.’
 170[I.7]	Her bones were all broken and laid at her feet,
 	 And they anointed her body with the ointment so sweet,
 	 And ay as they weeped they wrung their hands sore,
 	 For the fair flower of England will flourish no more.
 
 
 
 


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