A CALIFORNIA COLLECTION OF OLD BALLAD S. I. The Unfortunate Concubine ; or, Occafion'd by her Brother's unadvisedly praifing To the Tune of The Court Lady. Rofamond, the Daughter of Walter Lord Clifford, was, as the Writers of that Age affure us, a young Lady of infinite Beauty; on the bare Report of which, King Henry the Second fell in Love with her,and having B de debauch'd her, built the famous Bower at Clue Clue of Thread, as has erroneously been believ'd; but by a fubterraneous Way, digg'd fromGodftowNunnery to Woodstock Bower, tho' Five Miles diftant from each other, and carried even under the Ifis,anavigable River. The Plot of Mr. Addifon's Opera on this Subject, is generally believ'd a Poetical FiEtion; because he does not kill Rofamond, but fuppofes her to be carry'd away to the Nunnery alive: However, I believe, he has better Authority for this, than most People have for affirming that the Queen poison'd her, and that he dy'd on the Spot. Certain it is, he did not live long, at least not in the Bower, after this Vifit; for, dead or alive, fhe was brought by the fame fubterraneous Paffage into the Nunnery, the Entrance of which is ftill to be feen amongst its Ruins. The Walls of the Chapel Choir (where he lies interr'd) are standing: Her Grave is mark'd round with a narrow Ridge of Stone, and on the Wall is writ, Hic jacet in Tumulo Rofamunda, non Rosa Mundi; Non redolet, fed olet, quæ redolere folet. And feveral of the Letters having (thro' Injury of Time) been defaced, have lately been repair'd. This Lady had Two Sons by the King: the Eldeft, William, marry'd the Daughter and fole Heiress of the Earl of Salisbury; the other, Geoffrey, was first made Bishop of Lincoln, afterwards Archbishop of York; and died in Banishment during the Reign of his Brother, King John. WEET, youthful, charming Ladies Fram'd of the purest Mold, fair, With rofy Cheeks, and filken Hair, fhine like Threads of Which Soft Tears of Pity here bestow On the unhappy Fate Of Rofamond, who long ago When as the Second Henry reign'd How he this beauteous Flower gain'd, As Three young Knights of Sal'sbury One boasted of a fair Lady, Gold: My My Sifter's Locks of curled Hair Her Skin for Whiteness may compare I would not, for her Weight in Gold, King Henry had a Bower near For that fair White and Red; The King, who was of high Renown, For having writ his Pleasure down, I am the King of fair England, I to your Sifter here have writ Three Letters feal'd with Gold; No Messenger I think fo fit As you Therefore, behold, My Will and Pleasure let her read, Young Clifford then the Letters took Tho' with a melancholy Look, |