The Dublin Tragedy, Or the Unfortunate Merchant’s Daughter, in two parts

Part I. Setting forth a brief and authentic account of a rich Merchant’s Daughter in the town of Belfast, who was deluded by an Ensign in the army, and for love of him, dressed herself in man’s apparel, and saild with him to England, and were married at Stratford.

Part II. How she bought a Lieutenant’s Commission for him and became an Ensign herself and soon after went to America; also giving an account of their hardships whilst in an American Prison, shewing how after their return to Ireland, she was slighted by her false lover, and afterwards poisoned herself for his sake.
To which is added,
The answer to Roslin Castle.
Money is your Friend.

Dublin, Sold at the Wholesale and Retail School Book Warehouse 3, Mary-street.

The Dublin Tragedy,
Or the unfortunate Merchant’s Daughter, &c.

Ye lovers far and near, unto me lend an ear,
Whilst I relate a doleful tragedy,
‘Twill make your hearts to bleed, when I do proceed,
It’s known full well to be no falsity.
In Felfast as we hear, a merchant lived there,
Possess’d of wealth in riches did abound,
He had a daughter fair, who was his only care,
Her fortune it was full two thousand pounds.
She was a beauty bright, lovely in each sight,
And courted was by men of high degree;
But none of them could move her tender heart to love,
Their suit she still refus’d with modesty.
at th’ age of seventeen, young Cupid sly and keen,
His winged arrow did with speed prepare;
And by a subtle dart, shortly she felt the smart,
a young ensign soon did her heart ensnare.
once upon a day, this young man he did say,
fairest of creatures will you marry me?
if you my suit deny, sweet angel he did cry,
Grim death my sad physician soon will be.
My father, sir, said she, might use severity,
If I should yield to be your wedded wife,
On that account therefore, I pray persist no more,
I’m rather young to join a married life.
Said he sweet lady fair, oh, be not to severe,
I earnestly implore you’ll pity me,
If you are not my wife, this blade shall end my life
At which he drew his sword immediately.
This sad and doleful sight the lady did a fright,
Her trembling arms round his neck she thre,
Saying my dearest dear, I will not be severe,
My ove no longer I’ll conceal from you.
But now my love said she, how will this matter be,
when that my father he does come to know,
If you disloyal be, or inconstant to me,
My tender heart will break with grief and woe.
If I prove false said he or inconstant to thee,
May cruel fortune on me still attend;
And may I never thrive, or prosper while alive,
But make my exit by a shameful end.
They liv’d in sweet content, but now observe at length,
His regiment got orders for to sail;
Over to Old England as we understand,
which made this charming lady to bewail.
But they contrived it so, that she with him might go,
For to disguise herself a way she did invent;
Dress’d in man’s array, upon that very day,
As passenger on board she went.
rich jewels and gold rings, with other costly things,
She brought besides the sum of two thousand pounds.
Then quickly sail’d o’er, bound to the English shore,
And soon as they did land, they march’s out of hand,
Then to wed this couple did prepare;
And without more delay, he and his lady gay,
In stratford town they quickly married were.
Then with what gold they brought, they both commissions brought,
She was an ensign, he a lieutenant,
Not long they did remain, they’d sail’d again,
Straight to America the regiment went.

PART II

In nine long weeks or more they reach’d that bloody shore,
Where hostile danger raged on every side,
Nothing but smoke and fire seen thro’ wood and mire,
But providence for them did still provide.
Thro’ winter’s frost and snow she with her love did go,
And for his sake all dangers did defy,
She often times did yield to lie in open fields,
With nothing for her covering but the sky.
At Fort Montgomery she acted gallantly,
Likewise at Saratoga bore command,
And there at length we find was taken with Burgeyn,
Tho’ like a valiant soldier she did stand.
Then they were march’s along and put in prison strong,
Hunger and hardships there they did endure,
Dark walls did ‘em surround no help could be found,
For their distress alas! there was no cure.
When they releas’d were to England they did steer,
Where he and she agreed for to sell out,
And there this lieutenant a scheme did soon invent,
To rob his loyal comrade without doubt.
One morning he arose and putting on his clothes
He tok her watch and money as were told,
Then left her to bewail and speedily did set sail,
For Ireland with all her store of gold.
In Dublin city he married speedily,
And kept a grocer’s shop it is well known,
Whilst his poor comrade in England it is said,
Was forced to beg her bread from town to town.
She ventur’d home once more to her native shore
And in short time arrived in Dublin town,
By searching here and there from place to place we hear,
In Nassau-street there her love she found.
With heart opprest with woe she unto him did go
Expecting he would give her some relief,
But for to ease her mind no comfort she could find
This savage man only encreas’d her grief.
Pray who are you said he that seems to make so free,
I never saw you in my life before,
Don’t come to trouble me begone immediately,
And never let me see your face once more.
Perfidious man said she when you deluded me,
I might have had a match of high degree,
Yet for the ove of you much hardships I went thro’
Thus I’m rewarded for my loyalty.
Then from his door she went in doleful discontent,
In floods of tears she wept most bitterly,
Crying oh! perjured manI’ll do the worst I can,
Alive or dead revenged on you I’ll be.
Some half pence she had got with which she poison bought,
Then t a cellar went most speedily,
Where in a pint of beer which she purchas’d there,
She drank the woeful drought immediately.
When she had done the same she did go back again,
Vowing revenge unto him for the deed;
Her cruel lover then, straight for the watch did send,
To St. Anne’s Watch-house she was sent with speed.
And there she did relate, all her misfortunes great,
At length her body it began to sweel,
Then with a hollow tone, she gave a deadly groan,
and to this sinful world bid farewell.
Young men of each degree, and maids where’er ye be,
By this example her a warning take;
Still to your vows be true, a blessing will ensue,
So ne’er disdain your love for riches’ sake.

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ESTC Citation Number: T300173