The Chronicle of Nine

Welcome all you lords
and all you ladies so fine,
come and listen to my chronicle, 
to the chronicle of nine.

I’ve come to sing you a ballad,
just a rhyme, you might say,
without reason, though it does tell a sad story
and the story is reason enough.

What does anything mean of itself 
and in itself save that it is a part of something else?
Life happens, does it not?
An herb flower, pulled from its bed,
dies but lives, to flavor food.

Saving your presence,
my lords and ladies,
come and listen to my chronicle,
to the chronicle of nine.

Into thy hands I commend my spirit, O God.
Into thy hands I commend my soul. 

And the other said, 
“Jesus, remember me when you come in your kingly power,”
and he said unto him, 
“Truly, I say to you this day, you will be with me in Paradise.” 

It was now about the sixth hour
and there was darkness over the whole land until the ninth hour
while the sun’s light failed
and the curtain of the temple was torn in twain,
then Jesus with a loud voice cried,
“Father! Into thy hands I commend my spirit, O God.
Into thy hands I commend my soul.”
And having said this, he breathed his last. 

Now Edward was a king,
but he was ill and slight.
And so it passed, my friends,
that he did die one night. 

Jane Grey was sore frightened
but she was Tudor born.
And to the council chamber
went the maiden so forlorn.

Now Jane will be a queen
and wear a velvet gown,
with jewels upon her bosom
and with a golden crown. 

Northumberland to battle went
with bold five hundred strong.
He took the road to Norfolk,
a turn so very wrong.

Lord Dudley would die in August
and swift the days would pass,
while Mary reigned in London,
a proper queen at last.

Lady Jane will lie in prison
till a Monday dawns full clear.
Odd that the sun should shine
so bright upon a day so drear. 

Ripe strawberries, strawberries ripe!
A child for the gallows.
Oh will ye buy sweet fine plums?
Charms against the plague,
oh will ye buy sweet fine plums?
New oysters, just opened oysters, new oysters.
Buy a gallows toy made very like the block! 

Buy a gallows toy made very like the block.
Ale by the tankard!
Chestnuts, hot! 
Drink by the tankard, ‘ave some ale!
Oh will ye buy a fine gallows toy?
A toy made very like the block!
A charm against the plague! 
Oh, will ye buy sweet fine plums? 
New oysters, just opened oysters.
For the gallows—strawberries ripe. 

Good people, though I am innocent of the desire to betray my queen,
yet was I an accomplice by my presence, acquiescent in my silence.
I hope my fate will serve as a warning for those who’d rise against the crown.
If I can save one life dying thus, then I should not have died in vain!
Now, good people, Jane Dudley bids you all a long farewell.
Fare you well, a long farewell, farewell forevermore.
I am glad it is a fair day; farewell.
Into thy hands, I commend my spirit, O God!