anon, Factor's Garland (1840s)
“ A young waiting-maid, who strangled must be, For nothing but striking a Turkish lady. To think of her dying, with dread he was fill’d, Then rivers of tears, like waters distill’d, Like streams of a fountain, from her eyes ran down Her red rosy cheeks, and from thence to the ground. Hearing what her crime was, he, to end the strife, Said, What must I give for this poor creature’s life? The answer was turned, an hundred pound, The which for her pardon he freely paid down. He said, Fairest creature, thy weeping refrain, And be of good comfort, thou shalt not be slain ”
