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<DATE>2008-10-04</DATE>
<RESPSTMT>
<NAME>John Pas</NAME>
<RESP>MURP</RESP>
</RESPSTMT>
<ITEM>Proofed and reviewed as part of batch B080844.pdcc.</ITEM>
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<EEBO>
<IDG S="marc" R="UM" ID="B04310">
<STC T="W">L885</STC>
<BIBNO T="umi">99887326</BIBNO>
<VID>182037</VID>
</IDG>
<TEXT LANG="eng">
<BODY>
<DIV1 TYPE="ballad">
<PB REF="1"><!-- PDF PAGE 19 -->
<HEAD><HI>THE True Lovers Tragedy: Being an Incomparable Ballad of a Gentleman and his Lady, That both Killed them&s;elvels for Love, under the di&s;gui&s;ed Names of</HI> Philander <HI>and</HI> Phillis.</HEAD>
<ARGUMENT>
<LG>
<L><HI><HI>Phillis Philanders</HI> &s;cattered Garments finds,</HI></L>
<L><HI>And thinks him &s;lain, for which with Fate &s;he joyns,</HI></L>
<L><HI>And with her Fatal Poniard &s;triketh deep,</HI></L>
<L><HI>As Life no longer can it's &s;tation keep,</HI></L>
<L><HI>The Crim&s;oe Streams &s;o fa&s;t flowd from her Veins,</HI></L>
<L><HI>Yet Dying, of her Loves dear lo&s;s complains:</HI></L>
<L><HI>No &s;ooner Death had clo&s;ed up her Starry eyes,</HI></L>
<L><HI>But her return'd <HI>Philander</HI> her e&s;pyes;</HI></L>
<L><HI>And finding that for him &s;he lo&s;t her breath,</HI></L>
<L><HI>He kills him&s;elf, and crowns his Love with death.</HI></L>
</LG>
</ARGUMENT>
<OPENER><HI>To the Tune of, <HI>Ab Cruel Bloody Fate.</HI></HI></OPENER>
<P><FIGURE>
</FIGURE></P>
<LG>
<L>AH Cruel Bloody Fate,</L>
<L>what can&s;t thou now do more?</L>
<L>Alas 'tis now too late,</L>
<L><HI>Philander</HI> to Re&s;tore;</L>
<L>Why &s;hou'd the Heavenly powers ped&s;wade,</L>
<L>Poor Mortals to believe,</L>
<L>That they guard us here,</L>
<L>And reward us there,</L>
<L>Yet all our joys deceive.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Her Ponyard then &s;he took,</L>
<L>and held it in her hand,</L>
<L>Then with a dying look,</L>
<L>cry'd thus I Fate command:</L>
<L><HI>Philander!</HI> ah my Love I come,</L>
<L>to meet the &s;hade below;</L>
<L>Ah! I come &s;he cry'd,</L>
<L>with a wound &s;o wide,</L>
<L>There needs no &s;econd blow.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Then Purple Waves of Blood,</L>
<L>ran &s;treaming down the floor,</L>
<L>Vnmov'd &s;he &s;aw the Flood,</L>
<L>and ble&s;s'd her dying hour:</L>
<L><HI>Philander,</HI> and <HI>Philander</HI> &s;till,</L>
<L>the bleeding <HI>Phillis</HI> cry'd,</L>
<L>She wept a while,</L>
<L>and forc'd a &s;mile,</L>
<L>then clos'd her Eyes and dy'd.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Vpon the Blu&s;hing Ground,</L>
<L>&s;tain'd with her Virgin blood,</L>
<L>She lay in Deaths deep Swound,</L>
<L>clo&s;e by the murmering Flood:</L>
<L>Which for the lovely <HI>Phillis</HI> &s;ake,</L>
<L>complan'd of cruel late,</L>
<L>Which had caus'd &s;uch care,</L>
<L>as had wrought de&s;pair,</L>
<L>I weep it to relate.</L>
</LG>
<P><FIGURE>
</FIGURE></P>
<LG>
<L>When loe <HI>Philander</HI> came,</L>
<L>with joy to &s;eek his Love,</L>
<L>And her dear promi&s;e claim,</L>
<L>while Moan-beams from above,</L>
<L>Did twincle through the thicke&s;t &s;hade,</L>
<L>and guild the flowry plain,</L>
<L>When he e&s;pys,</L>
<L>And ah <HI>Phillis</HI> cries</L>
<L>(not thinking &s;he was &s;lain)</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Ari&s;e, ari&s;e from Earth,</L>
<L>&s;hake off this dull repo&s;e,</L>
<L><HI>Phillis</HI> my only mirth,</L>
<L>to thee <HI>Philander</HI> bows,</L>
<L>Sooner I would have come to thee,</L>
<L>had not a Lyon &s;taid,</L>
<L>My cour&s;e to fight,</L>
<L>For which exploit,</L>
<L>he Lifele&s;s now is made.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Ah me what's this! &s;he's cold,</L>
<L>ye Gods quite breathle&s;s too,</L>
<L>O Death dur&s;t thou infold,</L>
<L>this beauties not thy due:</L>
<L>Alas? O cruel Fate he cry'd,</L>
<L>by her own hand 'tis well</L>
<L>Oh the fatal blow,</L>
<L>That did overthrow,</L>
<L>by Heavens for me &s;he fell.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Behold my Garments dy'd</L>
<L>in <HI>Phillis</HI> precious blood,</L>
<L>Which falling from my &s;ide,</L>
<L>made her &s;uppo&s;e me dead:</L>
<L>And therefore fell for love of me,</L>
<L>ah cruel de&s;tiny.</L>
<L>And &s;hall <HI>Philander</HI></L>
<L>Live to wander,</L>
<L>No by the Powers i'le dye?</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>I come my <HI>Phillis</HI> now,</L>
<L>prepare, for in thy Arms,</L>
<L>I will perform my vow,</L>
<L>a &s;leep like Death now charms:</L>
<L>The&s;e Ciprus wreaths our Crowns &s;hall be</L>
<L>we'l Triumph over death,</L>
<L>From thy fair lip,</L>
<L>I'le Nectar Sip,</L>
<L>Then with my late&s;t breath.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>With that his Fatal Sword,</L>
<L>he plunged in his brea&s;t,</L>
<L>and &s;igh'd with dying words,</L>
<L>Oh now I am at re&s;t,</L>
<L>Now <HI>Phillis</HI> now for ever mine,</L>
<L>Fate now no more &s;hall part,</L>
<L>Then through the Wound,</L>
<L>Life pa&s;&s;age found,</L>
<L>And left the Lovers Heart.</L>
</LG>
<TRAILER>FINIS.</TRAILER>
</DIV1>
</BODY>
<BACK>
<DIV1 TYPE="colophon">
<P><HI>Printed for</HI> P. Brooksby, <HI>at the</HI> Golden Ball, <HI>near</HI> We&s;t-Smithfield.</P>
</DIV1>
</BACK>
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