XXIII. The Spanish Lady's Love. ..............................................................................
This beautiful old ballad most probably took its rise from one of these
descents made on the Spanish coasts in the time of Queen Elizabeth; and in all
likelihood from that which is celebrated in the foregoing ballad.[1]
It was a tradition in the west of England, that the person admired by the
Spanish lady was a gentleman of the Popham family, and that her picture, with the
pearl necklace mentioned in the ballad, was not many years ago preserved at Littlecot,
near Hungerford, Wilts, the seat of that respectable family.
Another tradition hath pointed out Sir Richard Levison, of Trentham, in
Staffordshire, as the subject of this ballad; who married Margaret, daughter of Charles
Earl of Nottingham; and was eminently distinguished as a naval officer and
commander in all the expeditions against the Spaniards in the latter end of Queen
Elizabeth's reign, particularly in that to Cadiz in 1596, when he was aged 27. He died
in 1605, and has a monument, with his effigy in brass, in Wolverhampton church.
It is printed from an ancient black-letter copy, corrected in part by the Editor's
folio MS.
WILL you hear a Spanish lady,
How shee wooed an English man? [2]
Garments gay and rich as may be
Decked with jewels she had on.
Of a comely countenance and grace was she,
And by birth and parentage of high degree.
As his prisoner there he kept her,
In his hands her life did lye!
Cupid's bands did tye them faster
By the liking of an eye.
In his courteous company was all her joy,
To favour him in any thing she was not coy.
But at last there came commandment
For to set the ladies free,
With their jewels still adorned,
None to do them injury.
Then said this lady mild, "Full woe is me;
O let me still sustain this kind captivity!
"Gallant captain, shew some pity
To a ladye in distresse;
Leave me not within this city,
For to dye in heavinesse:
Thou hast this present day my body free,
But my heart in prison still remains with thee."
"How should'st thou, fair lady, love me,
Whom thou knowest thy country's foe?
Thy fair wordes make me suspect thee:
Serpents lie where flowers grow."