Constance and Anthony

An Admirable New Northern Story.

Of two constant Lovers as I understand,
Were born near Appleby in Westmoreland,
The Lads name Anthony, Constance the Lass,
To sea they went both and great dangers did pass:
How they suffer’d shipwrack on the Coast of Spain
For two Years divided and then met again;
By wonderful fortune and rare accident,
And now both live at home with joy and content.

Two Lovers in the North,
Constance and Anthony,
Of them I will set forth
a gallant History:
They lov’d exceeding well,
as plainly doth appear;
But that which I shall tell,
the like you ne’er did hear.
Still she crys Anthony,
my bonny Anthony,
Gang thou by land or sea,
I’ll wend along with thee.

Anthony must to Sea,
His Calling did him bind,
My Constance, Dear, quoth he,
I must leave thee behind,
I prithee do not grieve,
thy tears will not prevail:
I’ll think of thee my Sweet
when the Ships under sail.
But still, &c.

How may that be? said he,
consider well the case:
Quoth she sweet Anthony,
I’ll bide not in this place.
If thou gang so will I,
of the means do not doubt:
A womans Policy
great matters may find out:
My bonny, &c.

I would be very glad,
but prithee tell me how?
I’ll dress me like a Lad,
what sayst thou to me now?
The Sea thou canst not brook,
yes very well (quoth she)
I’ll Scullion to the Cook
for thy sweet company.
My bonny, &c.

Anthony’s leave she had,
and Drest in Mans array,
She seem’d the blithest Lad
seen on a Summers Day.
O see what Love can do,
at home she will not bide:
With her true Love she’ll go,
let weal or woe betide.
My dearest, &c.

In the ship ’twas her lot
to be the under Cook;
And at the Fire hot,
wonderful pains she took:
She served e’ery one,
fitting to their degree;
And now and then alone,
she kissed Anthony.
My bonny Anthony,
my bonny Anthony,
Gang thou by land or sea,
I’ll wend along with thee.

Alack and welladay
by tempest on the Main,
Their Ship was cast away
upon the Coast of Spain:
To th’ mercy of the waves,
they all commited were,
Constance her own self saves,
then she crys for her dear.
My bonny Anthony,
my bonny Anthony,
Gang thou by land or sea,
I’ll wend along with thee.

Swimming upon a Plank,
at Bilbo she got ashore
First she did heaven thank,
then she lamented sore,
O woe is me (said she)
the saddest Lass alive,
My dearest Anthony,
now on the Sea doth drive.
My bonny, &c.

What shall become of me?
why do I strive for shore,
Sith my sweet Anthony,
I never shall see more?
Fair Constance do not grieve,
the same good providence,
Hath sav’d thy lover sweet,
but he is far from hence,
Still, &c.

A spanish Merchant rich,
saw this fair seeming Lad,
That did lament so much;
and was so grievous sad:
He had in England been
and English understood,
He having heard and seen
he in amazement stood:
still she cries Anthony &c.

The Merchant asked her
what was that Anthony:
Quoth she My Brother Sir
who came from thence with me.
He did her entertain
thinking she was a Boy;
Two years she did remain
before she met her joy.
still she cries &c.

Anthony up was tane
by an English Runagade,
With whom he did remain
at the Sea-Roving trade:
I’th nature of a Slave
he did i’th Galley row;
Thus he his life did save
but Constance did not know:
still she cries Anthony,
my bonny Anthony,
Gang thou by land or sea
Ile wend along with thee.

Now mark what came to pass;
see how the fates did work:
A Ship that her Masters was
surprised this English Turk,
And into Bilbo brought
all that aboard her were;
Constance still little thought
Anthony was so near.
still she cries &c.

When they were come on shore
Anthony and the rest,
She who was sad before
was now with joy possest;
The Merchant much did muse
at this so sudden change,
He did demand the News,
which unto him was strange:
Now she, &c.

Upon her knees she fell
unto her Master kind;
And all the truth did tell,
Nothing she kept behind:
At which he did admire,
and in a ship of Spain,
Not paying for their hire,
he sent them home again.
Now she, &c.

The Spanish Merchant rich
did of his bounty give,
A sum of Gold, on which
they now mostly bravely life:
And now in Westmoreland
they were joyn’d hand in hand,
Constancy and Anthony,
they live in mirth and glee,
Now she cries Anthony,
my bonny Anthony,
Good Providence we see,
hath guarded thee and me.

FINIS.

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BBO Roud Number: V17428

EBBA ID Number: 31324

EEBO Proquest ID Number: 2240916564

ESTC Citation Number: R233514