The Northamptonshire Tragedy.

YOUNG LEADER, I AM, (SINCE YOU'LL BE A TEA,
WHEN YOU THE SAME THALL I UNFOLD,
TO WILL MY HEART TO BLEED, WHEN FATHER I PROCEED,
A DUMAL STOY, AS FARE AS I WOULD BE.)

"IN FAIR NORTHAMPTONSHIRE, AS I TO YOU DECLARE,
There liv'd two NOBLEMAN, who did ESTATES,
Each had a DRUGGAR DEAR, AS FOR A TRAIN WE BEAR,
Buryet, alast! unhappy was their Fates.

ONEW'SO BEAUTIOUS MOULD, THE OTHER AS IT IS,
Wasmuch delio, and inurious too.
The other a BEAUTY DEAR, but you non shall hear,
Her Crichtines did this LADY quite undor.

A NOBLE KNIGHT OF FAME, TO CARRY THIS BEAUTY CAME,
TO OFFING IF THE WOULD NOT GRANT HER MY LOVE,
He was rum'd quite, no E. MORT. DAY nor Nig't,
Oate me of my PAIN, ye Powers above.

Why did this lovely F. my tender heart enfraie?
O Cupid let your tender arrows fly,
And wound her heart as mine, and make her be asking,
For if the will to love, for her I die,
And althoas we do hulde, he to her told his mad
Who come eashly to him his answer made.
Your fuit I muft deny, kind fir, Let ll you why,
I think I am too young as yet to wed.

But love y' said, I fad, he, on you that were, beel,
Not nely the chaming eyes (such dures let fly)
O crooked love-fick heart, and calme of my smart,
O eftelle for you myGRATI I see I die.

SIR, tell me not of Love, you may unconfident prove,
Knowdach things they are often found;
My years they are too green, I am not yet Fifteen,
I'm lured I do not know what Love doth mean.

This nig't, 2 do, we, (I see this Lady be,
At laft he did content to be hisride;
Hart'k my Father pray, he'll appoint the Day,
And if he's willing I am satisfied.

O charming found I hear, that you'll be my Dear,
Thou bese em Goodes whom I do adore;
Since you are confianc at lait, now my forrows paff,
Inflad of Grief, I now have comfort flore.
He to her Father went, and asked his Conflent,
Immediately so him he thus did Jay;
She is too young indeed, it must be thus age'd,
If that you have her you for her muft fly.
With all my heart he cried, if he is my Bride;
I do not mind for her how long I fly;
Tis he I do adore, and falld for evermore.
With kiffes fweer they paſ'd, the time away.

O Bieve the con'd fay, how do I see her betray,
Her heart he fole away, and then deſd'f
Her lovely Body too, which prov'd her overthow,
For the alast! by him did prove with Child.

Soon as he knew the fame, he left the lovely Dame,
At deh r Neighbour a courting did go:

Th' Crooked and Deform'd, for her this Beauty f corn'd,
Which cau'd her lovely. Eyes with which to flow,
Letters he oft did tend, with expreflions knd,
Saying, what'ye do mean, dear love I pray,
That you do meflly, and will not come nigh,
O cnd Man my Heart-bess to betray.

No anwer the received from her! Love indeed,
At length unto the Coachman her the day,
Dear John, one thing I crave, I'll make you fine and brave,
If you my council kee p and not be there.

This Diamond Ring fai ght, bear to the gallant, Knight,
Brave STANFORD, the sweet Name it do be bear,
Allo this Letter pray, give to him this day,
Of alle my Heart in peices I muft tear.

The Coachman was amaz'd, and on his Lady gen'd,
Unto the prej'd Knight away he went.
His meflaged declare : Go tell your Lady fair,
To come to her this Day was my invent.

So as he did come, he appoſhed the room,
The charming lADY'S bloom, like roles to sweet,
He crimton cheeks to kool, e're a word the ftoke,
In a foon he dropt down at his feet.
He hrove he to revye, and finding he alive,
What means your grief, I beg now let me near,
His lilly hands few'd away, 's addeſeling tongue,
O piny me for my few- content dear.

It's living in my, perform your promife, come
Blot not my Honour, hide my shame! I pra,
Look on the Ring I b, think on the oath you made,
Which you adore to me both Night and Day.

With Confectionne moſt Grim, he at her cift the Ring,
Think not that I vile Wretch, thy cafe deplore,
No more my Face I fee, no more do to me,
I will not own a Battard nor a Whore.

Good People do this, what Greif he underwent,
To hear this perfumed Creare thus deſgrade,
Her charms unto her Face, who did her thus diffrage,
Whore flattery as firft her Heart betray'd.

At laft her Father dear, beheld his Daughter fair,
With Sorrow overflow'd, to her he faid,
What ails my Daughter dear, do pray let me hear:
The reafon I muſt know this very Day.

I'm very ill, the cry'd, let me not be deny'd,
One thing that I deſire father pray,
That I to take the air, may to my Aunt's repair,
M not, my Father's will must be obey'd.

HER Father did confent, to the her Aunt's wasſent,
Her Coach to attend on her alio:
Her Aunt did quickly ſpy, wherein her grief did lie
And the truth the quickly this did know.

Her Aunt was juſt and good, her belt Friend the flood,
At laft the time was come, this Lady fair,
Muſt delivered be; a lovely Son, had he,
Which was much cauſe to her, of grief and care:

As the delivered were, the call'd the Coachman there,
To Heavens made he wear, for to be true;
Here take the theſe Guineas, go to the falſe Knight,
And give to him the ſtrings and Ring too.

Soon to the Knight he went, and gave the things he ſent,
Who opened the fame, it did unfold;
When he read the fame, a reacherous laugh did frame,
Saying, I do wonder at this ſumpet bold.

Me of her Son to tell, I with they were in Hell,
I think it would be well, if they were there;
So tell her what I ſay, and come no more I pray,
So then in Peces the Letter he did tear.

He to the Lady came, and told her of the fame;
A Crescendo moſt Prophane, my Infant dear.
May ſell in Heaven high, while thy ſad Soul doth ſay,
In cruel torment where you with we were.

In bitter Grief the ſay, tormented Night and Day,
At length her Infant died by herſide.
This made her grief more and more, the keſſ'd it, &c. &c,
My Father I will fee, whate'er heids.

At length the weary grew, I'll to my Father,ge,
Dear Aunt! I pray let none the ſecret know;
So farewell, he cried, let Heaven be your Guide,
I'll eck for him that cauſ'd my overthow,
She to her Father came, which he did entertain,
Moſt lovingly, laying, my Daughter dear,
I'm glad to see you well, that ſtrange news I have to tell,
Your Love is married this day I do declare.

She leamed discontent, and from her Father went,
Ye Furies now come ſtrike unto my Brain,
Some curſt invention pray, to take his Life away;
And let me be reveng'd for his undain.

Her Lovers as we hear, did each Day repair,
To take the air within a ſilent Grove,
To paſſ the time away, read ſome diverting Play,
He'd fit and let his wandering fancy flow.

She underſold the fame, and calling to her Man,
And ſmiling upon him, the thus did Jay,
Stanford as I do hear, does to a Grove repair,
A Project is come in my Head this Day.

I'll get a Friar's dresſ, a visit I proteſt,
I am resolved unto him to pay,
And crave his Charity, while he does look on me,
I'm ſure to ſpeak to him, I'll find a way.

The dresſ he did prepare, with things fit and rare,
Her Coachman ready in the afternoon,
Drove down a narrow lane, behind the Grove it came,
Now ſtop, ſaid he, You'll see the fancy fane.

Out of the Coach he came, the Fryar's dresſ put on,
And when he bad diſguſ'd her ſelf her only one,
A curious Basket fine, the round her Arm did twine,
Then went his charity to him to implore.

Moſt noble Knight to brave, your charity I crave,
I hope you'll me to relieve before you go;
Yes, that I will, ſaid he, but, p'ay now let me fee,
Methinks I for moughting of that voice may know,
She by his fide did land, and took him by the hand,
And with the other out a Pilſel caw.