The Very Old Song of the Roman Nobleman

by Anonymous

The Very old Song of

THE

Roman Nobleman;

or, the cruel

BLACKAMOOR

In the wood,

 

 

PETERHEAD:
Printed and Sold wholesale by P. Buchan.
1817.

THE
CRUEL BLACKAMOOR.

In Rome a Nobleman did weda Virgin of great fame,A fairer creature never was,nor did dame nature frame.By her he had two children fair,whose beauty did excel,And were their parents only joy,they lov'd them both so well.This lord he lov'd to hunt the buck,the tyger and the boar,And still for swiftness always tookwith him a Blackamoor.Which Blackamoor within the wood,his lord he did offend;For which he did him then correct,in hopes he would amend.The day it drew unto an end,then homeward they did haste,Where with his Lady he did restuntil the night had past.Then in the morning he did rise,and on his servants call,A hunting to provide to go,straight they were ready all.Cause of his toil, his Lady didentreat him not to go, Alas! good Lady, then quoth he,why art thou grieved so?Content thyself, I will returnto thee with speed again.Good father, quoth the little babes,with us here still remain.Farewel, dear children, I will goand something to you buy;But they herewith not still content,aloud began to cry.Their mother took them by the hand,saying come along with me,Unto the highest tower, whereyour father you shall see.The Blackamoor perceiving nowwho then did stand behind,His lord a hunting to be gone,began to call to mind,My master he did me correct,my fault not being great;Now on his wife I'll be revenged,he shall not me intreat.The place was moated round about,the bridge he did updraw,The gates he bolted very strong,of none he stood in awe;He up into the tower went,the Lady being there, When she saw his countenance grim,she straight began to fear.But now my trembling heart it quakes,to think that I must write;My senses all begin to faint,my soul it doth affright.Yet I must make an end of this,which I have here begun,Which will melt the hardest heartbefore that I have done.The wretch unto this Lady went,and her with speed did fillHis lust forthwith to satisfy,his mind for to fulfil.The Lady she amased was,to hear the villain speak.Alas! quoth she what will I do?with grief my heart do break.With that he took her in his arms,she straight for help did cry;Content yourself, Lady quoth he,your husband is not nigh;The bridge is drawn, the gate is shut,therfore come lie with me,Or else I do protest and vow,thy butcher I will be.The chrystal tears run from her cheeks,her children cried amain, And sought to help their mother dear, but alas! all was in vain.For the egregious filthy rogue,her hands behind her bound,And then perforce with all his strengthhe threw her to the ground.With that she shriek'd, her children cryedand such a noise did make,The townsmen hearing their lament,did seek their part to take;But all in vain, no way they foundto aid the ladys need,Who cried to them most piteously,oh help, oh help with speed!Some ran into the forest wide,his lord home for to call,And they that stood did sore lamentthe gallant Ladys fall.With speed his lord came posting home,but could not enter in;His Lady's cries did pierce his heart,to call he did begin:Hold thy hand thou savage Moor,to hurt her do forbear.Or else be sure if I do live,wild horses shall thee tear.With that the rogue ran to the wall,he having had his will, And brought one child under his armhis dearest blood to spill.The child seeing his father there,to him for help did call.O father help my mother dear,we shall be killed all.Then fell the lord upon his knees,and did the Moor intreatTo save the life of his poor child,whose fear by then was great.But the vile wretch the little childby both the heels did take,And dash'd its brains against the wall,while parents hearts did quake. That being dead he straightway ranthe other child to fetch,And pluck'd it from its mothers breast,most like a cruel wretch:Into one hand a knife he brought,the child into the other,And holding it over the wall,said, thus shall die thy mother.With that he cut the throat of it.to its father he did call,To look how he the throat had cut,that down the brains did fall!This done, he throws it o'er the wall,into the moat so deep; Which made the father wring his hands,and grievously to weep.Then to the Lady went this rogue,who was near dead with fear.Yet the vile wretch most cruelydid drag her by the hair,And drew her to the very wall,which when her lord did see,Then presently he cried out,and fell upon his knee-Quoth he if thou wilt but save her life,whom I do hold so dear,I will forgive thee all thats past,tho' they concern me near.O save her life I thee beseech,O save her life I pray,And I will give thee what thou wilt,demand of me this day.well quoth the Moor, I do regardthe moan thou dost make,If thou wilt grant what I request,I'll save her for thy sake.O save her life, and now demandof me what thing thou wilt:Cut off thy nose, and not one dropof her blood shall be spilt.Then did this noble lord takea knife into his hand, And there his nose did quite cut off,In place where he did stand.Now I have bought my Lady's life,then to the Moor did call:Then take her, quoth the wicked rogue,and down he let her fall.which when this gallant lord did see,his senses all did fail.Tho' many sought to save his life, yet all could not prevail.when as the Moor did see him dead,then he did laugh amainAt them who for his gallant lordand lady did complain.Quoth he, I know you'll torture me,if that ye could me get,But all your threats I do not fear,nor yet regard one whit.wild horses should my body tear,I khow it to be true;But I'll prevent you of that pain,then down himself he threw.Too good a death fer such a wretch,a villain void of fear:And thus doth end as sad a tale,as ever you did hear.

FINIS.