Berkshire lady's garland (1)

THE

Berkshire Lady's

GARLAND.

IN FOUR PARTS.

I. Cupid’s Conquest over a coy Lady of five thousand a-year, &c.

II. The Lady's letter of a challange to fight him upon refusing to wed her in a mask without knowing who she was.

III. How they met by appointment in a Grove, where she obliged him to fight or wed her.

IV. How they rode together in her gilded Coach to her noble seat or castle, &c.

FALKIRK:
PRINTED FOR THE BOOKSELLERS.

THE

Berkshire Lady’s Garland.

Tune,———The Royal Forrester."

---

⁠Bachelors of every station,
Mark this strange and true relation,
Which in brief to you I bring,
Never was a stranger thing.

⁠You shall find it worth the hearing,
Loyal love is most endearing,
When it takes the deepest root,
Yielding charms and gold to boot.

⁠Some will wed for love of treasure;
But the sweetest joy and pleasure
Is in faithful love you’ll find,
Graced with a noble mind.

⁠Such a noble disposition,
Had this lady, with submission,
Of whom I this sonnet write,
Store of wealth and beauty bright.

⁠She had left by a good grannum,
Full five thousand pounds per annum,
Whioh she held without controll;
Thus she did in riches roll.

⁠Tho’ she had vast store of riches,
Which some persons much bewitches,
Yet she bore a courteous mind,
Not the least to pride inclin’d.

⁠Many noble persons courted
This young lady, ’tis reported,
But their labour prov’d in vain,
They could not her favour gain.

⁠Tho’ she made such true resistance,
Yet by Cupid’s true assistance,
She was conquer’d after all.
How it was declare I shall.

⁠Being at a noble wedding,
Near the famous town of Redding,
A young gentleman she saw,
Who belonged to the law.

⁠As she view’d his sweet behaviour,
Every courteous carriage gave her
New additions to her grief;
Forc’d she was to seek relief.

⁠Privately she then enquir’d,
About him so much admir’d,
Both his name and where he dwelt,
Such was the hot flames she felt.

⁠Then at night this youthful lady,
Call’d her coach, which being ready,
Homeward straight she did return,
But her heart in flames did burn.

PART II.

⁠Night and morning for a season,
In her closet would she reason
With herself, and often said,
Why has love my heart betray’d?

⁠I that have so many slighted,
Am at length so well ⟨requited⟩,
For my griefs are not a few!
Now I find what love can do.

⁠He that has my heart in keeping,
Tho’ I for his sake be weeping;
Little knows what grief I feel,
But I’ll try it out with steel.

⁠For I will a challenge send him,
And appoint where I’ll attend him;
In a grove without delay,
By the dawning, of the day.

⁠He shall not the least discover,
That I am a virgin lover.
By the challenge which I send ;
But for justice l contend.

⁠He has caused sad distraction,
And I come for satisfaction,
Which if he denies to give,
One of us shall eease to live.

⁠Having thus her mind reveal’d,
She her letter closed and sealed:
Now when it came to his hand,
The young man was at a stand.

⁠In her letter she conjur’d him,
For to meet, and well assur'd him,
Reeompence he must afford,
Or dispute it with the sword.

⁠Having read the strange relation,
He was in a consternation;
Then advising with his friend,
He persuades him to attend.

⁠Be of courage and make ready,
Faint heart never won fair lady,
In regard it must be so,
I along with you will go.

PART III.

⁠Early on a summer’s morning,
When bright Phœbus was adorning
Every bower with his beams,
The fair lady came it seems.

⁠At the bottom of the mountain,
Near a pleasant crystal fountain;
There she left her gilded coach,
While the grove she did approanh,
Covered with her mask and walking.

⁠There she met her lover talking
With a friend that he had brought;
Straight she ask’d him, who she sought.

⁠I am challenged by a gallant,
Who resolves to try my talent;
Who he is I cannot say,
But I hope to shew him play.

⁠It is that I did invite you,
You shall wed me or I’ll fight you,
Underneath those spreading trees;
Therefore choose you which you please.

⁠You shall find I do not vapour,
I have brought my trusty rapier,
Therefore take your choice says she,
Either fight or marry me.

⁠Said he, madam, pray what mean you?
In my life I never saw you;
Pray unmask, your visage ahow,
Then I’ll tell you Aye or No.

⁠I will not my face uncover,
Till the marriage ties are over,
Therefore choose you which you will,
Wed me, sir, or try your skill.

⁠Step within that pleasant bower,
With your friend one single hour,
Strive your thoughts to reconcile,
And I will wander here the while.

⁠While this charming lady waited,
The young bachelors debated,
What was best for to be done;
Quoth his friend, the hazard run.

⁠If my judgment may be trusted,
Wed her first, you can’t be worsted,
If she’s rich, you’ll rise to fame,
If she’s poor, why you’re the same.

⁠He consented to be married,
In her coach they all were carried,
To a church without delay,
Where he weds the lady gay.

⁠The sweet pretty Cupids hover’d,
Round her eyes, her face was cover'd
With a mask, he took her thus,
Just for better or for worse.

⁠With a courteous kind behaviour,
She presents his friend a favour,
And withal dismiss’d him straight,
That he might no longer wait

PART IV.

⁠As the gilded coach stood ready,
The young lover and his lady,
Rode together till they came
To her house of state and fame.

⁠Which appeared like a castle,
Where he might behold a parcel
Of young ceders tall a d straight,
Just before her palace gate.

⁠Hand in hand they walked together,
To a hall or parlour rather,
Which was beautiful and fair,
All alone she left him there.

⁠Two long hours there he waited,
Her return at length he fretted,
And began to grieve at last,
For he had not broke his fast.

⁠Still he sat like one amazed,
Round a spacious room he gazed,
Which was richly beautify’d;
But, alas! he lost his bride.

⁠There was peeping, laughing, sneering,
All within the lawyer’s hearing:
But his bride he could not see;
Would I was at home thought he.

⁠While his heart was melancholy,
Said the Stewart brisk and jolly,
Tell me friend, how came you hore?
You have some design I fear.

⁠He reply’d dear loving master,
You shall meet with no disaster,
Through my means in any case,
Madam brought me to this place.

⁠Then the Steward did retire,
Saying that he would enquire,
Whether it was true or no;
Never was love hampered so.

⁠Now the lady who had fill’d him
With those fears, full well beheld him
From a window, where she drest,
Pleased at the pleasant jest.

⁠When she had herself attired,
In rich robes to be admired,
She appeared in his sight,
Like a moving angel bright.

⁠Sir, my servants have related,
How you have some hours waited
In my parlour, tell me who
In my house you ever knew.

⁠Madam if I have offended,
It is more than I Intended;
A young lady brought me here,
That is true said she my dear.

⁠I can be no longer cruel
To my joy and only jewel,
Thou art mine and I am thine,
Hand aud heart I do resign.

⁠Once I was a wounded lover,
Now those fears are clearly over;
By receiving what I gave,
Thou art Lord of what I have.

⁠Beauty, honour, love and treasure,
A rich golden stream of pleasure,
With his lady he enjoys;
Thanks to Cupid's kind decoys.

⁠Now he’s cloth’d in rich attire,
Not inferior to a squire,
Beauty, honour, riches, store,
What can man desire more.

FINIS.