From The Roxburghe Ballads, Vol. VIII, Part III, edited by J. Woodfall Ebsworth (Hertford: The Ballad Society, 1897), page 635:

[Pepys Collection, V, 285.]

The Constant Lady and False-hearted Squire:
Being a Relation of a Knight's Daughter near Woodstock Town, in Oxfordshire.

To A New Tune [As I walk'd forth to take the air*].

Near Woodstock town in Oxfordshire,
as I walk'd forth to take the air,
To view the fields and meadows round,
methought I heard a mournful sound.

Down by a crystal river side,
a gallant Bower I espied,
Where a fair Lady made great moan,
with many a bitter sigh and groan.

"Alas!" (quoth she), "my Love's unkind;
my sighs and tears he will not mind;
But he is cruel unto me,
which causes all my misery.

"My Father is a worthy Knight,
my Mother is a Lady bright;
And I their only child and heir:
yet Love has brought me to despair.

"A wealthy 'Squire lived nigh,
who on my beauty cast an eye;
He courted me, both day and night,
to be his Jewel and Delight.

"To me these words he often said:
'Fair, beauteous, handsome, comely Maid,
Oh! pity me, I do implore,
for it is you whom I adore.'

"He still did beg me to be kind,
and ease his love-tormented mind;
'For if,' said he, 'you should deny,
for love of you I soon shall die.'

"These words did pierce my tender heart:
I soon did yield, to ease his smart;
And unto him made this reply:
'For love of me you shall not die.'

"With that he flew into my arms,
and swore I had a thousand charms;
He call'd me Angel, Saint: and he,
for ever true to me would be.

"Soon after he had gain'd my heart,
he cruelly did from me part;
Another Maid he does pursue,
and to his vows he bids adieu.

" 'Tis he that makes my heart lament,
he causes all my discontent;
He hath caus'd my sad despair,
and now occasions this my care."

The Lady round the meadow run,
and gather'd flowers as they sprung;
Of every sort she there did pull,
until she got her apron full.

"Now there's a flower," she did say,
"is named Heart's-ease, night and day;
I wish I could that flower find,
for to ease my love-sick mind.

"But oh, alas! 'tis all in vain
for me to sigh and to complain;
There's nothing that can ease my smart,
for his disdain will break my heart."

The green ground served as a bed,
and flowers, a pillow for her head;
She laid her down, and nothing spoke:
alas! for love her heart was broke.

But when I found her body cold,
I went to her false love, and told
What unto her had just befel:
"I'm glad," said he, "she is so well.

"Did she think I so fond could be,
that I could fancy none but she?
Man was not made for one alone;
I took delight to hear her moan."

O wicked man! I find thou art,
thus to break a Lady's heart:
In Abraham's bosom may she sleep,
while thy wicked soul doth weep!

[The Second Part, To The Same Tune.]

A Second Part I bring you here,
of the Fair Maid of Oxfordshire,
Who lately broke her heart for love,
of one who did inconstant prove.

A youthful 'Squire, most unjust,
when he beheld this Lass at first,
A solemn thousand vows he made,
and so her yielding heart betray'd.

She mourning broke her heart, and dy'd,
feeling the shades on every side;
With dying groans and grievous cries,
as tears were flowing from her eyes.

The beauty which did once appear
on her sweet cheeks, so fair and clear,
Was waxed pale; her life was fled:
he heard at length that she was dead.

He was not sorry in the least,
but cheerfully resolv'd to feast;
And quite forgot her beauty bright,
whom he so basely ruin'd quite.

Now when, alas! this youthful Maid
within her silent tomb was laid,
The Squire thought that all was well,
he should in peace and quiet dwell.

Soon after this he was possest
with various thoughts, that broke his rest;
Sometimes he thought her groans he heard,
sometimes her ghastly Ghost appear'd,

With a sad visage, pale and grim,
and ghastly looks she cast on him;
He often started back, and cry'd:
"Where shall I go, my self to hide?

"Here I am haunted, night and day:
sometimes, methinks I hear her say:
'Perfidious man! false and unkind,
henceforth you shall no comfort find.'

"If through the fields I chance to go,
where she receiv'd her overthrow,
Methinks I see her in despair,
and, if at home, I meet her there.

"No place is free of torment now:
alas! I broke a solemn vow,
Which once I made; but now, at last,
it does my worldly glory blast.

"Since my unkindness did destroy
my dearest love and only joy,
My wretched life must ended be:
now must I die and come to thee."

His Rapier from his side he drew,
and pierc'd his body thro' and thro';
So he dropt down in purple gore,
just where she did some time before.

He buried was within the grave
of his true-love. And thus you have
A sad account of his sad fate,
who died in Oxfordshire of late.

London: Printed for E. B. near Fleet-Street. [White-letter. Date, circa 1686.]

* Note.—This second 'Oxfordshire Tragedy' is not in the Roxburghe Coll. It was sung to a well-known tune (see Popular Music, p. 191; sung also to "As our King lay musing on his bed"—our vol. vi, p. 744). It is deceptive in its later issue as a 'Garland' (Douce Coll., III, 70 verso, and Lindes., 865); yet thus reprinted in the National English Airs, 1838, p. 123, viz. Four Parts.

[Here was concluded the ballad-story of the Oxfordshire Knight's Daughter and her False-hearted Squire. It needed not the two other Parts that were conjoined to it, when issued as a 'Garland.' 'The Lover's Farewell' is a new departure, being the former case reversed, a distinct story; its own sequel is * The Lady's Lamentation.' It had appeared earlier in Black-letter (Pepy's Collection, III, 379), and we borrow the full title. The first and second stanzas of the 'Farewell' were, in 1688, with music by Robert King, published under a different title, viz. 'The Jealous Lover' (p. 54 of our Bagford Ballads). It is better, to avoid all misunderstanding, for us to reprint here the whole continuation, but with a preliminary caution that it is a distinct ballad from the one preceding. The tune is named on p. 412. R. B.=Richard Baldwin. The third and fourth parts were added, as a contrast to the first narrative, to lengthen it and double the price. The third part, also the fourth, her 'Lamentation,' was twice issued as a separate ballad; exemplars of each being preserved in the Pepysian Collection, viz. Vol. III, p. 379, and V, 315: both distinct from Pep. Coll., V, 285. This is the true solution of the enigma, which had eluded the late William Chappell.]