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The nurse, amidst of all their fright,

Laid down the child upon the ground; She ran away out of their sight,

And never after that was found. Then did the Dutchess make great moar, With her good husband all alone.


The thieves had then their horses killid,

An all their money quite had took ;
The bretty baby almost spoil'd,

Was by the nurse likewise forsook ; And they far from their friends did stand, And succourless in a strange land.


The skie likewise began to scoul,

It haild and rain'd in piteous sort, The way was long, and wondrous foul,

Then may I now full well report, Their grief and sorrow were not small, When this unhappy chance did fall.


Sometimes the Dutchess bore the child,

As wet as ever she could be,
And when the lady kind and mild

Was weary, then the child bore he;
And thus they one another eas'd,
And with their fortunes seem'd well pleas'd.


xv. And


And after many a weary step,

All wet-shod both in dirt and mire;
After much grief their hearts yet leap,

For labour doth some rest require.
A town before them they did see,
But lodged there they could not be.


From house to house then they did go,

Seeking that night where they might lie; But want of

money was their woe, And still their babe with cold did cry; With cap and knee their court'sy make, But none of them would pity take.


Lo! here a Princess of great blood

Doth pray a peasant for relief,
With tears bedewed as she stood,

Yet few or none regard her grief:
Her speech they could not understand,
But some gave money in her hand.


When all in vain her speech was spent,

And that they could not house-room get,
Into a Church-porch * then they went,

To stand out of the rain and wet;

* Of St. Willebrode, at Wesel, in Germany, wherein the Dutchess fell in labour, and was delivered of a son, called Peregrine, afterwards Lord Willoughby of Eresby. See Collins's Peerage, &c.


Then said the Dutchess to her dear, O, that we had some fire here!"


Then did her husband so provide,

That fire and eoals they got with speed;
She sat down by the fire-side,

To dress her daughter that had need:
And while she dress'd it in her lap,
Her husband made the infant pap.


Anon tbe Sexton thither came,

And finding them there by the fire;
The drunken knave, all void of shame,

To drive them out was his desire;
And spurning out the Noble Dame,
Her Husband's wrath he did inflame.


And all in fury as lie stood,

He wrung the church-keys from his hand,
And struck him so that all the blood

Ran down his head as he did stand;
Wherefore the Sexton presently
For aid and help aloud did cry.


Then came the officers in haste,

And took the Dutchess and her child; And with her husband thus they past,

Like lambs beset with tigers wild; And to the Governor were brought, Who understood them not in aught.



Then Master Bertie brave and bold,

In Latin made a gallant speech,
Which all their mis'ries did unfold,

And their high favour did beseech.
With that a Doctor sitting by
Did know the Dutchess presently.


And thereupon arising streight,

With looks abased at the sight; Unto them all that there did wait,

He thus broke forth in words aright: “ Behold! within your sight, quoth he, A Princess of most high degree !"


With that the Governor, and all ths rest,

Were much amaz’d the same to hear!
Who welcomed this new-come guest,

With rev’rence great, and princely cheer;
And afterwards convey'd they were
Unto their friend Prince Casimir.


A son she had in Germany,

Peregrine Bertie call’d by name, Surnam'd the good Lord Willoughby,

Of courage great, and worthy fame: Her daughter young, that with her went, Was afterwards Countess of Kent.



For, when Queen Mary was deceas'd,

The Dutchess home return'd again; Who was of sorrow quite releas'd

By Queen Elizabeth's happy reign; Whose godly life and piety

e may praise continually.


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