"This narrative ballad, which is full of graceful but unadorned simplicity, is mentioned in Fletcher's _Monsieur Thomas_, (Act iii. Sc. 3,) by the name of _Maudlin the Merchant's Daughter_. Two early editions of it are known: one without printer's name, (clearly much older than the other,) is that which we have used; we may conclude that it was written considerably before James I. came to the throne. It was last reprinted in 1738, but in that impression it was much modernized and corrupted." Behold the touchstone of true love, Maudlin the Merchant's Daughter of Bristow towne, Whose firme affection nothing could move; This favour beares the lovely browne. A gallant youth was dwelling by, 5 Which many yeares had borne this lady great good will; Shee loved him so faithfully, But all her friends withstood it still. The young man now, perceiving well He could not get nor win the favour of her friends, 10 The force of sorrow to expell To view strange countreys hee intends. And now, to take his last farewell Of his true love, his faire and constant Maudlen, With musicke sweete that did excell 15 Hee plaies under her window then. "Farewell," quoth he, "mine owne true love, Farewell, my deare, and chiefest treasure of my heart! Through fortune's spight, that false did prove, I am inforc'd from thee to part, 20 "Into the land of Italy: There wil I waile, and weary out my dayes in wo; Seeing my true love is kept from mee, I hold my life a mortal fo. "Faire Bristow towne, therefore, adieu, 25 For Padua shall bee my habitation now; Although my love doth lodge in thee, To whom alone my heart I vow." With trickling teares this hee did sing, With sighs and sobs descending from his heart full sore: Hee said, when he his hands did wring, 31 "Farewell, sweet love, for evermore!" Fair Maudlin, from a window high Beholding her true love with musicke where hee stood, But not a word she durst reply, 35 Fearing her parents angry mood. In teares she spent this dolefull night, Wishing (though naked) with her faithfull friend: She blames her friends, and fortune's spight, That wrought their loves such lucklesse end. 40 And in her heart shee made a vow Cleane to forsake her country and her kinsfolkes all, And for to follow her true love, To bide all chance that might befall. The night is gone, and the day is come, 45 And in the morning very early shee did rise: She gets her downe in a lower roome, Where sundrie seamen she espies.