Reliques of Ancient English Poetry consisting of Old Heroic Ballads, Songs, and other Pieces of our earlier Poets, (Chiefly of the Lyric kind.) Together with some few of later Date |
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| I. | BOOK I. BALLADS ON KING ARTHUR, &c. |
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| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
| IX. |
| X. |
| XI. |
| XII. |
| XIII. |
| XIV. |
| XV. |
| XVI. |
| XVII. |
| XVIII. |
| II. |
| III. |
 | Reliques of Ancient English Poetry |  |
BOOK I. BALLADS ON KING ARTHUR, &c.
I. THE BOY AND THE MANTLE.
[_]
—Is printed verbatim from the old MS described in the Preface. The Editor believes it more ancient, than it will appear to be at first sight; the transcriber of that manuscript having reduced the orthography and style in many instances to the standard of his own times.
The incidents of the Mantle and the Knife have not, that I can recollect, been borrowed from any other writer. The former of these evidently suggested to Spenser his conceit of Florimel's Girdle. B. iv. C. 5. St. 3.
That girdle gave the virtue of chaste love
And wivehoood true to all that did it beare;
But whosoever contrarie doth prove,
Might not the same about her middle weare,
But it would loose or else asunder teare.
And wivehoood true to all that did it beare;
But whosoever contrarie doth prove,
Might not the same about her middle weare,
But it would loose or else asunder teare.
So it happened to the false Florimel, st. 16, when
—Being brought, about her middle small
They thought to gird, as best it her became,
But by no means they could it thereto frame,
For ever as they fastned it, it loos'd
And fell away, as feeling secret blame, &c.
That all men wondred at the uncouth sight
And each one thought as to their fancies came.
But she herself did think it done for spight,
And touched was with secret wrath and shame
Therewith, as thing deviz'd her to defame:
Then many other ladies likewise tride
About their tender loynes to knit the same,
But it would not on none of them abide,
But when they thought it fast, eftsoones it was untide.
Thereat all knights gan laugh and ladies lowre,
Till that at last the gentle Amoret
Likewise assayed to prove that girdle's powre.
And having it about her middle set
Did find it fit withouten breach or let,
Whereat the rest gan greatly to envie.
But Florimel exceedingly did fret
And snatching from her hand, &c.
They thought to gird, as best it her became,
But by no means they could it thereto frame,
For ever as they fastned it, it loos'd
And fell away, as feeling secret blame, &c.
That all men wondred at the uncouth sight
And each one thought as to their fancies came.
But she herself did think it done for spight,
And touched was with secret wrath and shame
Therewith, as thing deviz'd her to defame:
Then many other ladies likewise tride
About their tender loynes to knit the same,
But it would not on none of them abide,
But when they thought it fast, eftsoones it was untide.
Thereat all knights gan laugh and ladies lowre,
Till that at last the gentle Amoret
2
And having it about her middle set
Did find it fit withouten breach or let,
Whereat the rest gan greatly to envie.
But Florimel exceedingly did fret
And snatching from her hand, &c.
As for the trial of the Horne, it is not peculiar to our Poet: It occurs in the old romance, intitled Morte Arthur, which was translated out of French in the time of K. Edw. IV. and first printed anno 1484. From that romance Ariosto is thought to have borrowed his tale of the Enchanted Cup, C. 42. &c.
See Mr. Warton's Observations on the Faerie Queen, &c.The story of the Horn in Morte Arthur varies a good deal from this of our Poet, as the reader will judge from the following extract.—“By the way they met with a knight that was sent from Morgan le Faye to king Arthur, and this knight had a fair horne all garnished with gold, and the horne had such a virtue that there might no ladye or gentlewoman drinke of that horne, but if she were true to her husband: and if shee were false she should spill all the drinke, and if shee were true unto her lorde, shee might drink peaceably: and because of queene Guenever and in despite of Sir Launcelot du Lake, this horne was sent unto king Arthur.”—This born is intercepted and brought unto another king named Marke, who is not a whit more fortunate than the British hero, for he makes “his queene drinke thereof and an hundred ladies moe, and there were but foure ladies of all those that drank cleane” of which number the said queen, proves not to be one [Book II. chap. 22. Ed. 1632.]
In other respects the two stories are so different, that we have just reason to suppose this Ballad was written before that romance was translated into English.
As for queen Guènever, she is here represented no otherwise, than as we find her in old histories and romances. Holinshed observes, that “she was evil reported of, as noted of incontinence and breach of faith to hir husband.”
Vol. I. p. 93.Such Readers, as have no relish for pure antiquity, will find a more modern copy of this Ballad at the end of the volume.
3
In the third day of may,
To Carleile did come
A kind curteous child,
That cold much of wisdome.
To Carleile did come
A kind curteous child,
That cold much of wisdome.
A kirtle and a mantle
This child had uppon,
With ‘brooches’ and ringes
Full richelye bedone.
This child had uppon,
With ‘brooches’ and ringes
Full richelye bedone.
He had a sute of silke
About his middle drawne;
Without he cold of curtesye
He thought itt much shame.
About his middle drawne;
Without he cold of curtesye
He thought itt much shame.
God speede thee, king Arthur,
Sitting at thy meate:
And the goodly queene Guénever,
I cannott her forgett.
Sitting at thy meate:
And the goodly queene Guénever,
I cannott her forgett.
I tell you, lords, in this hall;
I hett you all to ‘heede’;
Except you be the more surer
Is for you to dread.
I hett you all to ‘heede’;
Except you be the more surer
Is for you to dread.
He plucked out of his poterver,
And longer wold not dwell,
He pulled forth a pretty mantle,
Betweene two nut-shells.
And longer wold not dwell,
He pulled forth a pretty mantle,
Betweene two nut-shells.
4
Have thou here, king Arthur;
Have thou heere of mee:
Give itt to thy comely queene
Shapen as itt is alreadye.
Have thou heere of mee:
Give itt to thy comely queene
Shapen as itt is alreadye.
It shall never become that wiffe,
That hath once done amisse.
Then every knight in the king's court
Began to care for ‘his.’
That hath once done amisse.
Then every knight in the king's court
Began to care for ‘his.’
Forth came dame Guénever;
To the mantle shee her ‘hied’;
The ladye shee was newfangle,
But yett she was affrayd.
To the mantle shee her ‘hied’;
The ladye shee was newfangle,
But yett she was affrayd.
When shee had taken the mantle;
She stoode as she had beene madd:
It was from the top to the toe
As sheeres had itt shread.
She stoode as she had beene madd:
It was from the top to the toe
As sheeres had itt shread.
One while was it ‘gule’;
Another while was itt greene;
Another while was itt wadded:
Ill itt did her beseeme.
Another while was itt greene;
Another while was itt wadded:
Ill itt did her beseeme.
Another while was itt blacke,
And bore the worst hue:
By my troth, quoth king Arthur,
I thinke thou be not true.
And bore the worst hue:
By my troth, quoth king Arthur,
I thinke thou be not true.
5
Shee threw downe the mantle,
That bright was of blee;
Fast with a rudd redd,
To her chamber can shee flee.
That bright was of blee;
Fast with a rudd redd,
To her chamber can shee flee.
She curst the weaver, and the walker,
That clothe that had wrought;
And bade a vengeance on his crowne,
That hither hath itt brought.
That clothe that had wrought;
And bade a vengeance on his crowne,
That hither hath itt brought.
I had rather be in a wood,
Under a green tree;
Than in king Arthur's court
Shamed for to bee.
Under a green tree;
Than in king Arthur's court
Shamed for to bee.
Kay called forth his ladye,
And bade her come neere;
Saies, Madam, and thou be guiltye,
I pray thee hold thee there.
And bade her come neere;
Saies, Madam, and thou be guiltye,
I pray thee hold thee there.
Forth came his ladye
Shortlye and anon;
Boldlye to the mantle
Then is shee gone.
Shortlye and anon;
Boldlye to the mantle
Then is shee gone.
When she had tane the mantle,
And cast it her about;
Then was she bare
‘Before all the rout.”
And cast it her about;
Then was she bare
‘Before all the rout.”
6
Then every knight,
That was in the king's court,
Talked, laughed, and showted
Full oft at that sport.
That was in the king's court,
Talked, laughed, and showted
Full oft at that sport.
Shee threw downe the mantle,
That bright was of blee;
Fast, with a red rudd,
To her chamber can she flee.
That bright was of blee;
Fast, with a red rudd,
To her chamber can she flee.
Forth came an old knight
Pattering ore a creede,
And he proferred to this litle boy
Twenty markes to his meede;
Pattering ore a creede,
And he proferred to this litle boy
Twenty markes to his meede;
And all the time of the Christmasse
Willinglye to ffeede;
For why this mantle might
Do his wiffe some need.
Willinglye to ffeede;
For why this mantle might
Do his wiffe some need.
When she had tane the mantle,
Of cloth that was made,
She had no more left on her,
But a tassel and a threed:
Then every knight in the kings court
Bade evill might shee speed.
Of cloth that was made,
She had no more left on her,
But a tassel and a threed:
Then every knight in the kings court
Bade evill might shee speed.
Shee threw downe the mantle,
That bright was of blee;
And fast, with a redd rudd,
To her chamber can shee flee.
That bright was of blee;
7
To her chamber can shee flee.
Craddocke called forth his ladye,
And bade her come in;
Saith, winne this mantle, ladye,
With a little dinne.
And bade her come in;
Saith, winne this mantle, ladye,
With a little dinne.
Winne this mantle, ladye,
And it shal be thine,
If thou never did amisse
Since thou wast mine.
And it shal be thine,
If thou never did amisse
Since thou wast mine.
Forth came Craddocke's ladye
Shortlye and anon;
But boldlye to the mantle
Then is shee gone.
Shortlye and anon;
But boldlye to the mantle
Then is shee gone.
When shee had tane the mantle,
And cast itt her about,
Upp att her great toe
It began to crinkle and crowt:
Shee said, bowe downe, mantle,
And shame me not for nought.
And cast itt her about,
Upp att her great toe
It began to crinkle and crowt:
Shee said, bowe downe, mantle,
And shame me not for nought.
Once I did amisse,
I tell you certainlye,
When I kist Craddocke's mouth
Under a greene tree;
When I kist Craddockes mouth
Before he marryed mee.
I tell you certainlye,
When I kist Craddocke's mouth
Under a greene tree;
8
Before he marryed mee.
When shee had her shreeven,
And her sinnes shee had tolde;
The mantle stoode about her
Right as shee wold:
And her sinnes shee had tolde;
The mantle stoode about her
Right as shee wold:
Seemelye of coulour
Glittering like gold:
Then every knight in Arthurs court
Did her behold.
Glittering like gold:
Then every knight in Arthurs court
Did her behold.
Then spake dame Guénever
To Arthur our king;
She hath tane yonder mantle
Not with right, but with wronge.
To Arthur our king;
She hath tane yonder mantle
Not with right, but with wronge.
See you not yonder woman,
That maketh her self ‘cleane’?
I have seene tane out of her bedd
Of men five teene;
That maketh her self ‘cleane’?
I have seene tane out of her bedd
Of men five teene;
Priests, clarkes, and wedded men
From her bedeene:
Yett shee taketh the mantle,
And maketh her self cleane.
From her bedeene:
Yett shee taketh the mantle,
And maketh her self cleane.
9
Then spake the litle boy,
That kept the mantle in hold;
Sayes, king, chasten thy wiffe,
Of her words shee is too bold:
That kept the mantle in hold;
Sayes, king, chasten thy wiffe,
Of her words shee is too bold:
Shee is a bitch and a witch,
And a whore bold:
King, in thine owne hall,
Thou art a cuckold.
And a whore bold:
King, in thine owne hall,
Thou art a cuckold.
The litle boy stoode
Looking out a dore;
‘And there as he was lookinge
‘He was ware of a wyld bore.’
Looking out a dore;
‘And there as he was lookinge
‘He was ware of a wyld bore.’
He was ware of a wyld bore,
Wold have werryed a man:
He pulled forth a wood kniffe,
Fast thither that he ran:
He brought in the bores head,
And quitted him like a man.
Wold have werryed a man:
He pulled forth a wood kniffe,
Fast thither that he ran:
He brought in the bores head,
And quitted him like a man.
He brought in the bores head,
And was wonderous bold:
He said there were never a cuckolds kniffe
Carve itt that cold.
And was wonderous bold:
He said there were never a cuckolds kniffe
Carve itt that cold.
Some rubbed their knives
Uppon a whetstone:
Some threw them under the table,
And said they had none.
Uppon a whetstone:
10
And said they had none.
King Arthur, and the child
Stood looking upon them;
All their knives edges
Turned backe againe.
Stood looking upon them;
All their knives edges
Turned backe againe.
Craddocke had a litle knive
Of iron and of steele;
He britled the bores head
Wonderous weele;
That every knight in the kings court
Had a morsell.
Of iron and of steele;
He britled the bores head
Wonderous weele;
That every knight in the kings court
Had a morsell.
The litle boy had a horne,
Of red gold that ronge:
He said, there was noe cuckolde
Shall drinke of my horne;
But he shold itt sheede
Either behind or beforne.
Of red gold that ronge:
He said, there was noe cuckolde
Shall drinke of my horne;
But he shold itt sheede
Either behind or beforne.
Some shedd on their shoulder,
And some on their knee;
He that cold not hitt his mouthe,
Put it in his eye:
And he that was a cuckold
Every man might him see.
And some on their knee;
He that cold not hitt his mouthe,
Put it in his eye:
And he that was a cuckold
Every man might him see.
11
Craddocke wan the horne,
And the bores head:
His ladie wan the mantle
Unto her meede.
Everye such lovely ladye
God send her well to speede.
And the bores head:
His ladie wan the mantle
Unto her meede.
Everye such lovely ladye
God send her well to speede.
II. THE MARRIAGE OF SIR GAWAINE
[_]
—Is chiefly taken from the fragment of an old ballad in the Editor's MS. which he has reason to believe more ancient than the time of Chaucer, and what furnished that bard with his Wise of Bath's Tale. The original was so extremely mutilated, half of every leaf being torn away, that without large supplements, &c. it would have been improper for this collection: these it has therefore received, such as they are. They are not here particularly pointed out, because the Fragment itself will some time or other be given to the public.
Part the First.
King Arthur lives in merry Carleile,
And seemely is to see;
And there with him queene Guenever,
That bride soe bright of blee.
And seemely is to see;
And there with him queene Guenever,
That bride soe bright of blee.
And there with him queene Guenever,
That bride so bright in bowre:
And all his barons about him stoode,
That were both stiffe and stowre.
That bride so bright in bowre:
And all his barons about him stoode,
That were both stiffe and stowre.
12
The king a royale Christmasse kept,
With mirth and princelye cheare;
To him repaired many a knighte,
That came both farre and neare.
With mirth and princelye cheare;
To him repaired many a knighte,
That came both farre and neare.
And when they were to dinner sette,
And cups went freely round;
Before them came a faire damsèlle,
And knelt upon the ground.
And cups went freely round;
Before them came a faire damsèlle,
And knelt upon the ground.
A boone, a boone, O kinge Arthùre,
I beg a boone of thee;
Avenge me of a carlish knighte,
Who hath shent my love and mee.
I beg a boone of thee;
Avenge me of a carlish knighte,
Who hath shent my love and mee.
In Tearne-Wadling his castle stands,
All on a hill soe hye,
And proudlye rise the battlements,
And gaye the streameres flye.
All on a hill soe hye,
And proudlye rise the battlements,
And gaye the streameres flye.
Noe gentle knighte, nor ladye faire,
May pass that castle-walle:
But from that foule discurteous knighte,
Mishappe will them befalle.
May pass that castle-walle:
But from that foule discurteous knighte,
Mishappe will them befalle.
Hee's twyce the size of common men,
Wi' thewes, and sinewes stronge,
And on his backe he bears a clubbe,
That is both thicke and longe.
Wi' thewes, and sinewes stronge,
And on his backe he bears a clubbe,
That is both thicke and longe.
13
This grimme baròne 'twas our harde happe,
But yester morne to see;
When to his bowre he bore my love,
And sore misused mee.
But yester morne to see;
When to his bowre he bore my love,
And sore misused mee.
And when I told him, king Arthùre
As lyttle shold him spare;
Goe tell, sayd hee, that cuckold kinge,
To meete mee if he dare.
As lyttle shold him spare;
Goe tell, sayd hee, that cuckold kinge,
To meete mee if he dare.
Upp then sterted king Arthùre,
And sware by hille and dale,
He ne'er wolde quitt that grimme baròne,
Till he had made him quail.
And sware by hille and dale,
He ne'er wolde quitt that grimme baròne,
Till he had made him quail.
Goe fetch my sword Excalibar:
Goe saddle mee my steede;
Nowe, by my faye, that grimme baròne
Shall rue this ruthfulle deede.
Goe saddle mee my steede;
Nowe, by my faye, that grimme baròne
Shall rue this ruthfulle deede.
And when he came to Tearne Wadlinge
Benethe the castle walle:
“Come forth; come forth; thou proude baròne,
Or yielde thyself my thralle.”
Benethe the castle walle:
“Come forth; come forth; thou proude baròne,
Or yielde thyself my thralle.”
On magicke grounde that castle stoode,
And fenc'd with many a spelle:
Noe valiant knighte could tread thereon,
But straite his courage felle.
And fenc'd with many a spelle:
Noe valiant knighte could tread thereon,
But straite his courage felle.
14
Forth then rush'd that carlish knight,
King Arthur felte the charme:
His sturdy sinewes lost their strengthe,
Downe sunke his feeble arme.
King Arthur felte the charme:
His sturdy sinewes lost their strengthe,
Downe sunke his feeble arme.
Nowe yield thee, yield thee, kinge Arthùre,
Now yield thee, unto mee:
Or fighte with mee, or lose thy lande,
Noe better termes maye bee.
Now yield thee, unto mee:
Or fighte with mee, or lose thy lande,
Noe better termes maye bee.
Unlesse thou sweare upon the rood,
And promise on thy faye,
Here to returne to Tearne Wadling,
Upon the new-yeare's daye:
And promise on thy faye,
Here to returne to Tearne Wadling,
Upon the new-yeare's daye:
And bringe me worde what thing it is
All women moste desyre:
This is thy ransome, Arthur, he sayes,
Ile have noe other hyre.
All women moste desyre:
This is thy ransome, Arthur, he sayes,
Ile have noe other hyre.
King Arthur then helde up his hande,
And sware upon his faye,
Then tooke his leave of the grimme barone
And faste hee rode awaye.
And sware upon his faye,
Then tooke his leave of the grimme barone
And faste hee rode awaye.
And he rode east, and he rode west,
And did of all inquyre,
What thing it is all women crave,
And what they most desyre.
And did of all inquyre,
What thing it is all women crave,
And what they most desyre.
15
Some told him riches, pompe, or state;
Some rayment fine and brighte;
Some told him mirthe; some flatterye;
And some a jollye knighte.
Some rayment fine and brighte;
Some told him mirthe; some flatterye;
And some a jollye knighte.
In letteres all king Arthur wrote,
And seal'd them with his ringe:
But still his minde was helde in doubte,
Each tolde a different thinge.
And seal'd them with his ringe:
But still his minde was helde in doubte,
Each tolde a different thinge.
As ruthfulle he rode over a more,
He saw a ladye sette
Betweene an oke, and a greene holléye,
All clad in red scarlette.
He saw a ladye sette
Betweene an oke, and a greene holléye,
All clad in red scarlette.
Her nose was crookt and turnd outwàrde,
Her chin stoode all awrye;
And where as sholde have been her mouthe,
Lo! there was set her eye:
Her chin stoode all awrye;
And where as sholde have been her mouthe,
Lo! there was set her eye:
Her haires, like serpents, clung aboute
Her cheekes of deadlye hewe:
A worse-form'd ladye than she was,
No man mote ever viewe.
Her cheekes of deadlye hewe:
A worse-form'd ladye than she was,
No man mote ever viewe.
To hail the king in seemelye sorte
This ladye was fulle saine;
But king Arthùre all sore amaz'd,
No aunswere made againe.
This ladye was fulle saine;
But king Arthùre all sore amaz'd,
No aunswere made againe.
16
What wight art thou, the ladye sayd,
That wilt not speake to mee;
Sir, I may chance to ease thy paine,
Though I bee foule to see.
That wilt not speake to mee;
Sir, I may chance to ease thy paine,
Though I bee foule to see.
If thou wilt ease my paine, he sayd,
And helpe me in my neede;
Ask what thou wilt, thou grimme ladyè,
And it shall bee thy meede.
And helpe me in my neede;
Ask what thou wilt, thou grimme ladyè,
And it shall bee thy meede.
O sweare mee this upon the roode,
And promise on thy faye;
And here the secrette I will telle,
That shall thy ransome paye.
And promise on thy faye;
And here the secrette I will telle,
That shall thy ransome paye.
King Arthur promis'd on his faye,
And sware upon the roode;
The secrette then the ladye told,
As lightlye well shee cou'de.
And sware upon the roode;
The secrette then the ladye told,
As lightlye well shee cou'de.
Now this shall be my paye, sir king,
And this my guerdon bee,
That some yong, fair and courtlye knight,
Thou bringe to marrye mee.
And this my guerdon bee,
That some yong, fair and courtlye knight,
Thou bringe to marrye mee.
Fast then pricked king Arthùre
Ore hille, and dale, and downe:
And soone he founde the barone's bowre;
And soone the grimme baroùne.
Ore hille, and dale, and downe:
And soone he founde the barone's bowre;
And soone the grimme baroùne.
17
He bare his clubbe upon his backe,
Hee stoode bothe stiffe and stronge;
And, when he had the letters reade,
Awaye the lettres flunge.
Hee stoode bothe stiffe and stronge;
And, when he had the letters reade,
Awaye the lettres flunge.
Nowe yielde thee, Arthur, and thy lands,
All forfeit unto mee;
For this is not thy paye, sir king,
Nor may thy ransome bee.
All forfeit unto mee;
For this is not thy paye, sir king,
Nor may thy ransome bee.
Yet hold thy hand, thou proude baròne,
I praye thee hold thy hand;
And give mee leave to speake once moe
In reskewe of my land.
I praye thee hold thy hand;
And give mee leave to speake once moe
In reskewe of my land.
This morne, as I came over a more,
I saw a ladye sette
Betwene an oke, and a greene hollèye,
All clad in red scarlètte.
I saw a ladye sette
Betwene an oke, and a greene hollèye,
All clad in red scarlètte.
Shee sayes, all women will have their wille,
This is their chief desyre;
Now yield, as thou art a barone true,
That I have payd mine hyre.
This is their chief desyre;
Now yield, as thou art a barone true,
That I have payd mine hyre.
An earlye vengeaunce light on her!
The carlish baron swore:
Shee was my sister tolde thee this,
And shee's a mishapen whore.
The carlish baron swore:
Shee was my sister tolde thee this,
And shee's a mishapen whore.
18
But here I will make mine avowe,
To do her as ill a turne:
For an ever I may that foule theefe gette,
In a fyre I will her burne.
To do her as ill a turne:
For an ever I may that foule theefe gette,
In a fyre I will her burne.
Part the Seconde.
Homewarde pricked king Arthùre,
And a wearye man was hee;
And soone he mette queene Guenever,
That bride so bright of blee.
And a wearye man was hee;
And soone he mette queene Guenever,
That bride so bright of blee.
What newes! what newes! thou noble king,
Howe, Arthur, hast thou sped?
Where hast thou hung the carlish knighte?
And where bestow'd his head?
Howe, Arthur, hast thou sped?
Where hast thou hung the carlish knighte?
And where bestow'd his head?
The carlish knight is safe for mee,
And free fro mortal harme:
On magicke grounde his castle stands,
And fenc'd with many a charme.
And free fro mortal harme:
On magicke grounde his castle stands,
And fenc'd with many a charme.
To bowe to him I was fulle faine,
And yielde mee to his hand:
And but for a lothly ladye, there
I sholde have lost my land.
And yielde mee to his hand:
And but for a lothly ladye, there
I sholde have lost my land.
19
And nowe this fills my hearte with woe,
And sorrowe of my life;
I swore a yonge and courtlye knight,
Sholde marry her to his wife.
And sorrowe of my life;
I swore a yonge and courtlye knight,
Sholde marry her to his wife.
Then bespake him sir Gawàine,
That was ever a gentle knighte:
That lothly ladye I will wed;
Therefore be merrye and lighte.
That was ever a gentle knighte:
That lothly ladye I will wed;
Therefore be merrye and lighte.
Nowe naye, nowe naye, good sir Gawàine;
My sister's sonne yee bee;
This lothlye ladye's all too grimme,
And all too foule for yee.
My sister's sonne yee bee;
This lothlye ladye's all too grimme,
And all too foule for yee.
Her nose is crookt and turn'd outwàrde;
Her chin stands all awrye;
A worse form'd ladye than shee is
Was never seen with eye.
Her chin stands all awrye;
A worse form'd ladye than shee is
Was never seen with eye.
What though her chin stand all awrye,
And shee be foule to see:
I'll marry her, unkle, for thy sake,
And I'll thy ransome bee.
And shee be foule to see:
I'll marry her, unkle, for thy sake,
And I'll thy ransome bee.
Nowe thankes, nowe thankes, good sir Gawàine;
And a blessing thee betyde!
To-morrow wee'll have knights and squires,
And wee'll goe fetch thy bride.
And a blessing thee betyde!
To-morrow wee'll have knights and squires,
And wee'll goe fetch thy bride.
20
And wee'll have hawkes and wee'll have houndes,
To cover our intent;
And wee'll away to the greene forèst,
As wee a hunting went.
To cover our intent;
And wee'll away to the greene forèst,
As wee a hunting went.
Sir Lancelot, sir Stephen bolde,
They rode with them that daye;
And foremoste of the companye
There rode the stewarde Kaye:
They rode with them that daye;
And foremoste of the companye
There rode the stewarde Kaye:
Soe did sir Banier and sir Bore,
And eke sir Garratte keene;
Sir Tristram too, that gentle knight,
To the forest freshe and greene.
And eke sir Garratte keene;
Sir Tristram too, that gentle knight,
To the forest freshe and greene.
And when they came to the greene forrèst,
Beneathe a faire holley tree
There sate that ladye in red scarlètte
That unseemelye was to see.
Beneathe a faire holley tree
There sate that ladye in red scarlètte
That unseemelye was to see.
Sir Kay beheld that lady's face,
And looked upon her sweere;
Whoever kisses that ladye, he sayes
Of his kisse he stands in feare.
And looked upon her sweere;
Whoever kisses that ladye, he sayes
Of his kisse he stands in feare.
Sir Kay beheld that ladye againe,
And looked upon her snout;
Whoever kisses that ladye, he sayes,
Of his kisse he stands in doubt.
And looked upon her snout;
Whoever kisses that ladye, he sayes,
Of his kisse he stands in doubt.
21
Peace, brother Kay, sayde sir Gawàine,
And amend thee of thy life:
For there is a knight amongst us all,
Must marry her to his wife.
And amend thee of thy life:
For there is a knight amongst us all,
Must marry her to his wife.
What marry this foule queane, quoth Kay,
I'the devil's name anone;
Get mee a wife wherever I maye,
In sooth shee shall bee none.
I'the devil's name anone;
Get mee a wife wherever I maye,
In sooth shee shall bee none.
Then some tooke up their hawkes in haste,
And some took up their houndes;
And sayd they wolde not marry her,
For cities, nor for townes.
And some took up their houndes;
And sayd they wolde not marry her,
For cities, nor for townes.
Then bespake him king Arthùre,
And sware there by this daye;
For a little foule sighte and mislikìnge,
Yee shall not say her naye.
And sware there by this daye;
For a little foule sighte and mislikìnge,
Yee shall not say her naye.
Peace, lordings, peace: sir Gawaine sayd,
Nor make debate and strife;
This lothlye ladye I will take,
And marry her to my wife.
Nor make debate and strife;
This lothlye ladye I will take,
And marry her to my wife.
Nowe thankes, now thankes, good sir Gawaine,
And a blessinge be thy meede!
For as I am thine owne ladyè,
Thou never shalt rue this deede.
And a blessinge be thy meede!
For as I am thine owne ladyè,
Thou never shalt rue this deede.
22
Then up they took that lothly dame,
And home anone they bringe:
And there sir Gawaine he her wed,
And married her with a ringe.
And home anone they bringe:
And there sir Gawaine he her wed,
And married her with a ringe.
And when they were in wed-bed laid,
And all were done awaye;
Come turne to mee, mine owne wed-lord
Come turne to mee I praye.
And all were done awaye;
Come turne to mee, mine owne wed-lord
Come turne to mee I praye.
Sir Gawaine scant could lift his head,
For sorrowe and for care;
When, lo! instead of that lothelye dame,
Hee sawe a young ladye faire.
For sorrowe and for care;
When, lo! instead of that lothelye dame,
Hee sawe a young ladye faire.
Sweet blushes stayn'd her rud-red cheeke,
Her eyen were blacke as sloe:
The ripening cherrye swellde her lippe,
And all her necke was snowe.
Her eyen were blacke as sloe:
The ripening cherrye swellde her lippe,
And all her necke was snowe.
Sir Gawaine kiss'd that lady faire,
Lying upon the sheete:
And swore, as he was a true knighte,
The spice was never soe sweete.
Lying upon the sheete:
And swore, as he was a true knighte,
The spice was never soe sweete.
Sir Gawaine kiss'd that lady brighte,
Lying there by his side:
“The fairest flower is not soe faire;
Thou never can'st bee my bride.”
Lying there by his side:
“The fairest flower is not soe faire;
Thou never can'st bee my bride.”
23
I am thy bride, mine owne deare lorde,
The same whiche thou didst knowe,
That was soe lothlye, and was wont
Upon the wild more to goe.
The same whiche thou didst knowe,
That was soe lothlye, and was wont
Upon the wild more to goe.
Nowe, gentle Gawaine, chuse, quoth shee,
And make thy choice with care;
Whether by night, or else by daye,
Shall I be foule or faire?
And make thy choice with care;
Whether by night, or else by daye,
Shall I be foule or faire?
“To have thee foule still in the night,
When I with thee should playe!
I had rather farre, my lady deare,
To have thee foule by daye.”
When I with thee should playe!
I had rather farre, my lady deare,
To have thee foule by daye.”
What when gaye ladyes goe with their lordes
To drinke the ale and wine;
Alas! then I must hide myself,
I must not goe with mine?
To drinke the ale and wine;
Alas! then I must hide myself,
I must not goe with mine?
“My faire ladyè, sir Gawaine sayd,
I yield me to thy skille;
Because thou art mine owne ladyè
Thou shalt have all thy wille.”
I yield me to thy skille;
Because thou art mine owne ladyè
Thou shalt have all thy wille.”
Nowe blessed be thou, sweete Gawàine,
And the daye that I thee see;
For as thou seest mee at this time,
Soe shall I ever bee.
And the daye that I thee see;
For as thou seest mee at this time,
Soe shall I ever bee.
24
My father was an aged knighte,
And yet it chanced soe,
He tooke to wife a false ladyè,
Whiche broughte me to this woe.
And yet it chanced soe,
He tooke to wife a false ladyè,
Whiche broughte me to this woe.
Shee witch'd mee, being a faire yonge maide,
In the greene forèst to dwelle;
And there to abide in lothlye shape,
Most like a fiend of helle.
In the greene forèst to dwelle;
And there to abide in lothlye shape,
Most like a fiend of helle.
Midst mores and mosses; woods, and wilds;
To lead a lonesome life:
Till some yong faire and courtlye knighte
Wolde marrye me to his wife:
To lead a lonesome life:
Till some yong faire and courtlye knighte
Wolde marrye me to his wife:
Nor fully to gaine mine owne trewe shape,
Such was her devilish skille;
Until he wolde yielde to be rul'd by mee,
And let mee have all my wille.
Such was her devilish skille;
Until he wolde yielde to be rul'd by mee,
And let mee have all my wille.
She witchd my brother to a carlish boore,
And made him stiffe and stronge;
And built him a bowre on magicke grounde,
To live by rapine and wronge.
And made him stiffe and stronge;
And built him a bowre on magicke grounde,
To live by rapine and wronge.
But now the spelle is broken throughe,
And wronge is turnde to righte;
Henceforth I shall bee a faire ladyè,
And hee be a gentle knighte.
And wronge is turnde to righte;
Henceforth I shall bee a faire ladyè,
And hee be a gentle knighte.
25
III. KING RYENCE'S CHALLENGE.
[_]
This song is more modern than many of those which follow it, but is placed here for the sake of the subject. It was sung before queene Elizabeth at the grand entertainment at Kenelworth-castle in 1575, and was probably composed for that occasion. In a letter describing those festivities, it is thus mentioned; “A minstral came forth with a sollem song, warranted for story out of K. Arthur's acts, whereof I gat a copy, and is this;
So it fell out on a Pentecost &c.”After the song the narrative proceeds: “At this the Minstrell made a pause and a curtezy for primus passus. More of the song is thear, but I gatt it not.”
The story in Morte Arthur, whence it is taken, runs as follows, Came a messenger hastely from king Ryence of North-Wales,—saying, that king Ryence had discomfited and overcomen eleaven kings, and everiche of them did him homage, and that was this; they gave him their beards cleane flayne off, wherefore the messenger came for king Arthur's beard, for king Ryence had purfeled a mantell with kings beards, and there lacked for one place of the mantell, wherefore he sent for his beard, or else he would enter into his lands, and brenn and slay, and never leave till he have thy head and thy beard. Well, said king Arthur, thou bast said thy message, which is the most villainous and lewdest message that ever man heard sent to a king. Also thou mayest see my beard is full young yet for to make a purfell of, but tell thou the king that—or it be long he shall do to me homage on both his knees, or else he shall leese his head.”
[B. 1. c. 24. See also the same Romance, B. 1. c. 92.]The thought seems to be originally taken from Jeff. Monmouth's hist. B. 10. c. 3. which is alluded to by Drayton in his Poly-Olb. Song 4. and by Spencer in Faer. Qu. 6. 1. 13. 15. See the Observations on Spenser, vol. 2. p. 223.
26
The following text is composed of the best readings selected from three different copies. The first in Enderbie's Cambria Triumphans, p. 197. The second in the Letter abovementioned. And the third inserted in MS. in a copy of Morte Arthur, 1632, in the Bodl. Library.
“Stow tells us, that king Arthur kept his round table at “diverse places, but especially at Carlion, Winchester, and Camalet in Somersetshire. This Camelet sometimes a famous towne or castle, is situate on a very high tor or hill, &c.”
[See an exact description in Stowe's Annals, Ed. 1631. p. 55.]
As it fell out on a Pentecost day,
King Arthur at Camelot kept his court royall,
With his faire queene dame Guenever the gay;
And many bold barons sitting in hall;
With ladies attired in purple and pall;
And heraults in hewkes, hooting on high,
Cryed, Largesse, Largesse, Chevaliers tres-hardie.
King Arthur at Camelot kept his court royall,
With his faire queene dame Guenever the gay;
And many bold barons sitting in hall;
With ladies attired in purple and pall;
And heraults in hewkes, hooting on high,
Cryed, Largesse, Largesse, Chevaliers tres-hardie.
A doughty dwarfe to the uppermost deas
Right pertlye gan pricke, kneeling on knee,
With steven fulle stoute amids all the preas,
Sayd, Nowe sir king Arthur, God save thee, and see!
Sir Ryence of North-gales greeteth well thee,
And bids thee thy beard anon to him send,
Or else from thy jaws he will it off rend.
Right pertlye gan pricke, kneeling on knee,
With steven fulle stoute amids all the preas,
Sayd, Nowe sir king Arthur, God save thee, and see!
Sir Ryence of North-gales greeteth well thee,
And bids thee thy beard anon to him send,
Or else from thy jaws he will it off rend.
For his robe of state is a rich scarlet mantle,
With eleven kings beards bordered about,
And there is room lefte yet in a kantle,
For thine to stande, to make the twelfth out:
This must be done, be thou never so stout;
This must be done, I tell thee no fable,
Maugre the teethe of all thy round table.
With eleven kings beards bordered about,
27
For thine to stande, to make the twelfth out:
This must be done, be thou never so stout;
This must be done, I tell thee no fable,
Maugre the teethe of all thy round table.
When this mortal message from his mouthe past,
Great was the noyse bothe in hall and in bower:
The king fum'd; the queene screecht; ladies were aghast;
Princes puffd; barons blustred; lords began lower;
Knights stormed; squires startled, like steeds in a stower;
Pages and yeomen yell'd out in the hall,
Then in came sir Kay, the ‘king's’ seneschal.
Great was the noyse bothe in hall and in bower:
The king fum'd; the queene screecht; ladies were aghast;
Princes puffd; barons blustred; lords began lower;
Knights stormed; squires startled, like steeds in a stower;
Pages and yeomen yell'd out in the hall,
Then in came sir Kay, the ‘king's’ seneschal.
Silence, my soveraignes, quoth this courteous knight,
And in that stound the stowre began still:
‘Then’ the dwarfe's dinner full deerely was dight,
Of wine and wassel he had his wille;
And, when he had eaten and drunken his fill,
An hundred pieces of fine coyned gold
Were given this dwarf for his message bold.
And in that stound the stowre began still:
‘Then’ the dwarfe's dinner full deerely was dight,
Of wine and wassel he had his wille;
And, when he had eaten and drunken his fill,
An hundred pieces of fine coyned gold
Were given this dwarf for his message bold.
But say to sir Ryence, thou dwarf, quoth the king,
That for his bold message I do him defye;
And shortlye with basins and pans will him ring
Out of North-gales; where he and I
With swords, and not razors, quickly shall trye,
Whether he, or king Arthur will prove the best barbor:
And therewith he shook his good sword Excalàbor.
That for his bold message I do him defye;
And shortlye with basins and pans will him ring
Out of North-gales; where he and I
With swords, and not razors, quickly shall trye,
Whether he, or king Arthur will prove the best barbor:
And therewith he shook his good sword Excalàbor.
Largesse, Largesse, The heralds resounded these words as oft as they received of the bounty of the knights. See “Memoires de la Chevalerie.” tom. p. 1. 99.—The expression is still used in the form of installing knights of the garter.
28
IV. KING ARTHUR's DEATH.
A Fragment.
[_]
The subject of this ballad is evidently taken from the old romance Morte Arthur, but with some variations, especially in the concluding stanzas; in which the author seems rather to follow the traditions of the old Welsh Bards, who “believed that King Arthur was not dead, but conveied awaie by the Fairies into some pleasant place, where he should remaine for a time, and then returne againe and reign in as great authority as ever.” Holingshed. B. 5. c. 14. or as it is expressed in an old Chronicle printed at Antwerp 1493 by Ger. de Leew, “The Bretons supposen, that he [K. Arthur]—shall come yet and conquere all Bretaigne, for certes this is the prophicye of Merlyn: He sayd, that his deth shall be doubteous; and sayd soth, for men thereof yet have doubte, and shullen for ever more,—for men wyt not whether that he lyveth or is dede.”
See more ancient testimonies in Selden's Notes on Polyolbion, Song III.
This fragment being very incorrect and imperfect in the original MS. hath received some conjectural emendations, and even a supplement of 3 or 4 stanzas composed from the romance of Morte Arthur.
On Trinitye Mondaye in the morne,
This sore battayle was doom'd to bee;
Where manye a knighte cry'd, Well-awaye!
Alacké, it was the more pittìe.
This sore battayle was doom'd to bee;
Where manye a knighte cry'd, Well-awaye!
Alacké, it was the more pittìe.
29
Ere the first crowinge of the cocke,
When as the kinge in his bed laye,
He thoughte sir Gawaine to him came,
And there to him these wordes did saye.
When as the kinge in his bed laye,
He thoughte sir Gawaine to him came,
And there to him these wordes did saye.
Nowe as you are mine unkle deare,
And as you prize your life, this daye
O meet not with your foe in fighte;
Putt off the battayle, if yee maye.
And as you prize your life, this daye
O meet not with your foe in fighte;
Putt off the battayle, if yee maye.
For sir Launcelot is nowe in Fraunce,
And with him many an hardye knighte:
Who will within this moneth be backe,
And will assiste yee in the fighte.
And with him many an hardye knighte:
Who will within this moneth be backe,
And will assiste yee in the fighte.
The kinge then call'd his nobles all,
Before the breakinge of the daye;
And tolde them howe sir Gawaine came,
And there to him these wordes did saye.
Before the breakinge of the daye;
And tolde them howe sir Gawaine came,
And there to him these wordes did saye.
His nobles all this counsayle gave,
That earlye in the morning, hee
Shold send awaye an herauld at armes,
To aske a parley faire and free.
That earlye in the morning, hee
Shold send awaye an herauld at armes,
To aske a parley faire and free.
Then twelve good knightes king Arthure chose,
The best of all that with him were:
To parley with the foe in field,
And make with him agreement faire.
The best of all that with him were:
To parley with the foe in field,
And make with him agreement faire.
30
The king he charged all his hoste,
In readinesse there for to bee:
But noe man sholde noe weapon sturre,
Unlesse a sword drawne they shold see.
In readinesse there for to bee:
But noe man sholde noe weapon sturre,
Unlesse a sword drawne they shold see.
And Mordred on the other parte,
Twelve of his knights did likewise bringe;
The beste of all his companye,
To hold the parley with the kinge.
Twelve of his knights did likewise bringe;
The beste of all his companye,
To hold the parley with the kinge.
Sir Mordred alsoe charged his hoste,
In readinesse there for to bee;
But noe man sholde noe weapon sturre,
But if a sworde drawne they shold see.
In readinesse there for to bee;
But noe man sholde noe weapon sturre,
But if a sworde drawne they shold see.
For he durste not his unkle truste,
Nor he his nephewe, sothe to tell:
Alacke! it was a woefulle case,
As ere in Christentye befelle.
Nor he his nephewe, sothe to tell:
Alacke! it was a woefulle case,
As ere in Christentye befelle.
But when they were together mette,
And both to faire accordance broughte;
And a month's league betweene them sette,
Before the battayle sholde be foughte.
And both to faire accordance broughte;
And a month's league betweene them sette,
Before the battayle sholde be foughte.
An addere crept forth of a bushe,
Stunge one o'th' king's knightes on the knee:
Alacke! it was a woefulle chance,
As ever was in Christentìe.
Stunge one o'th' king's knightes on the knee:
Alacke! it was a woefulle chance,
As ever was in Christentìe.
31
When the knighte found him wounded sore,
And sawe the wild-worme hanginge there;
His sworde he from his scabberde drewe:
A piteous case as ye shall heare.
And sawe the wild-worme hanginge there;
His sworde he from his scabberde drewe:
A piteous case as ye shall heare.
For when the two hostes sawe the sworde,
They joyned battayle instantlye;
Till of soe manye noble knightes,
On one side there were left but three.
They joyned battayle instantlye;
Till of soe manye noble knightes,
On one side there were left but three.
For all were slain that durst abide,
And but some fewe that fled awaye:
Ay mee! it was a bloodye fielde,
As ere was foughte on summer's daye.
And but some fewe that fled awaye:
Ay mee! it was a bloodye fielde,
As ere was foughte on summer's daye.
Upon king Arthur's own partyè,
Onlye himselfe escaped there,
And Lukyn duke of Gloster free,
And the king's butler Bedevere.
Onlye himselfe escaped there,
And Lukyn duke of Gloster free,
And the king's butler Bedevere.
And when the king beheld his knightes,
All dead and scattered on the molde;
The teares fast trickled downe his face;
That manlye face in fight so bolde.
All dead and scattered on the molde;
The teares fast trickled downe his face;
That manlye face in fight so bolde.
Nowe reste yee all, brave knights, he said,
Soe true and faithful to your trust:
And must yee then, ye valiant hearts,
Be lefte to moulder into dust!
Soe true and faithful to your trust:
And must yee then, ye valiant hearts,
Be lefte to moulder into dust!
32
Most loyal have yee been to mee,
Most true and faithful unto deathe:
And, oh! to rayse yee up againe,
How freelye could I yield my breathe?
Most true and faithful unto deathe:
And, oh! to rayse yee up againe,
How freelye could I yield my breathe?
But see the traitor's yet alive,
Lo where hee stalkes among the deade!
Nowe bitterlye he shall abye:
And vengeance fall upon his head.
Lo where hee stalkes among the deade!
Nowe bitterlye he shall abye:
And vengeance fall upon his head.
O staye, my liege, then sayd the duke;
O staye for love and charitìe;
Remember what the vision spake,
Nor meete your foe, if it may bee.
O staye for love and charitìe;
Remember what the vision spake,
Nor meete your foe, if it may bee.
O, staye mee not, thou worthye wight,
This debt my loyal knights I owe:
Betide me life, betide me death,
I will avenge them of their foe.
This debt my loyal knights I owe:
Betide me life, betide me death,
I will avenge them of their foe.
Then straite he grasp'd his trustye speare,
And on his horse then mounted hee:
As his butler holpe him to his horse,
His bowels gushed to his knee.
And on his horse then mounted hee:
As his butler holpe him to his horse,
His bowels gushed to his knee.
Alas! then sayd the noble king,
That I should live this sight to see!
To see this good knight here be slaine,
All for his love in helping mee!
That I should live this sight to see!
To see this good knight here be slaine,
All for his love in helping mee!
33
He put his speare into his reste,
And to sir Mordred loud gan crye;
Nowe sette thyself upon thy guarde,
For, traitor, nowe thy death is nye.
And to sir Mordred loud gan crye;
Nowe sette thyself upon thy guarde,
For, traitor, nowe thy death is nye.
Sir Mordred lifted up his sworde,
And fierce to meet the king ran hee:
The king his speare he through him thrust;
A fathom thorow his bodìe.
And fierce to meet the king ran hee:
The king his speare he through him thrust;
A fathom thorow his bodìe.
When Mordered felt the stroke of death,
And found that he was wounded soe;
He thruste himselfe upon the speare,
And strucke the king a deadlye blowe.
And found that he was wounded soe;
He thruste himselfe upon the speare,
And strucke the king a deadlye blowe.
Then grimmlye dyed sir Mordered,
Presentlye upon that tree:
And bloody streames ranne from the kinge,
Ere to the duke returned hee.
Presentlye upon that tree:
And bloody streames ranne from the kinge,
Ere to the duke returned hee.
Sir Lukyn then he thus bespake,
Sir knighte, thou hast been faithfulle tryde,
Nowe take my sword Excalibar,
That hangs so freelye by my syde.
Sir knighte, thou hast been faithfulle tryde,
Nowe take my sword Excalibar,
That hangs so freelye by my syde.
O take my sword Excalibar,
And there into the river throwe:
For here, henceforth, benethe this tree,
All use of weapons I foregoe.
And there into the river throwe:
For here, henceforth, benethe this tree,
All use of weapons I foregoe.
34
And fare thee well, thou trustye sword,
A better neer had valiant knighte,
With thee full ofte, and manye a daye,
Have I withstood my foe in fighte.
A better neer had valiant knighte,
With thee full ofte, and manye a daye,
Have I withstood my foe in fighte.
With this good fauchion in my hande,
Oft have I reapd the bloody feelde:
But nowe the fatalle houre is come,
That never more I may thee weelde.
Oft have I reapd the bloody feelde:
But nowe the fatalle houre is come,
That never more I may thee weelde.
The duke then to the river went,
And there his owne sword in threwe hee:
But he kept back Excalibar,
He kept it back in privitee.
And there his owne sword in threwe hee:
But he kept back Excalibar,
He kept it back in privitee.
For all of coleyne was the blade;
And all the hilte of precious stone:
And ever alacke! then sayd the knighte,
Must such a sword awaye be throwne?
And all the hilte of precious stone:
And ever alacke! then sayd the knighte,
Must such a sword awaye be throwne?
Then backe he came unto the kinge,
Who sayd, Sir Lukyn, what did yee see?
Nothing, my liege, save that the winde
Blewe oer the waters faire and free.
Who sayd, Sir Lukyn, what did yee see?
Nothing, my liege, save that the winde
Blewe oer the waters faire and free.
O goe againe, then said the kinge,
O good fir Lukyn, goe againe:
Into the rivere throwe my sword,
Nor keepe me lingering here in paine.
O good fir Lukyn, goe againe:
Into the rivere throwe my sword,
Nor keepe me lingering here in paine.
35
The duke then to the river went,
And the kings scabberd in threwe hee;
But hee kept backe Excalibar,
And hid it undernethe a tree.
And the kings scabberd in threwe hee;
But hee kept backe Excalibar,
And hid it undernethe a tree.
Then backe he came to tell the kinge,
Who sayde, Sir Lukyn sawe ye oughte?
Nothinge, my liege, save that the winde
Nowe with the angrye waters fought.
Who sayde, Sir Lukyn sawe ye oughte?
Nothinge, my liege, save that the winde
Nowe with the angrye waters fought.
O Lukyn, Lukyn, said the kinge,
Twice haste thou dealt deceytfullye:
Alacke, whom may wee ever truste,
When suche a knighte soe false can bee?
Twice haste thou dealt deceytfullye:
Alacke, whom may wee ever truste,
When suche a knighte soe false can bee?
Saye, wouldst thou have thy master dead;
All for a sword, that wins thine eye:
Nowe goe againe, and throwe it in,
Or here the tone of us shall dye.
All for a sword, that wins thine eye:
Nowe goe againe, and throwe it in,
Or here the tone of us shall dye.
The duke, all shent with this rebuke,
No aunswere made unto the kinge:
But to the rivere tooke the sworde,
And threwe it far as he coulde flinge.
No aunswere made unto the kinge:
But to the rivere tooke the sworde,
And threwe it far as he coulde flinge.
A hande and an arme did meete the sworde,
And flourishd three times in the air;
Then funke benethe the renninge streme,
And of the duke was seene noe mair.
And flourishd three times in the air;
Then funke benethe the renninge streme,
And of the duke was seene noe mair.
36
All sore astonied stood the duke;
He stood as still, as still mote bee:
Then hastend backe to telle the kinge;
But he was gone from benethe the tree.
He stood as still, as still mote bee:
Then hastend backe to telle the kinge;
But he was gone from benethe the tree.
Unto what place he colde not telle,
For never after he did him spye:
But hee sawe a barge goe from the lande,
And hee heard ladyes howle and crye.
For never after he did him spye:
But hee sawe a barge goe from the lande,
And hee heard ladyes howle and crye.
And whether the kinge were there, or not,
Hee never knewe, nor ever colde:
For from that sad and direfulle daye,
Hee never more was seene on molde.
Hee never knewe, nor ever colde:
For from that sad and direfulle daye,
Hee never more was seene on molde.
Not unlike that passage in Virgil.
Summoque ulularunt vertice nymphæ.Ladies was the word our old English writers used for Nymphs: As in the following lines of an old song in the Editor's MS collection.
“When scorching Phœbus he did mount,
“Then Lady Venus went to hunt:
“To whom Diana did resort,
“With all the Ladyes of hills, and valleys,
“Of springs, and floodes, &c.
“Then Lady Venus went to hunt:
“To whom Diana did resort,
“With all the Ladyes of hills, and valleys,
“Of springs, and floodes, &c.
37
V. THE LEGEND OF KING ARTHUR.
[_]
We have here a short summary of K. Arthur's History as given by Jeff. of Monmouth and the old chronicles, with the addition of a few circumstances from the romance Morte Arthur.—The ancient chronicle of Ger. de Leew, (quoted above in p. 28.) seems to have been chiefly followed: upon the authority of which we have restored some of the names which were corrupted in the MS. and have transposed one stanza, which appeared to be misplaced. [viz. that beginning at v. 49. which in the MS. followed v. 36.]
Printed from the Editor's ancient manuscript.
Of Brutus' blood, in Brittaine borne,
King Arthur I am to name;
Through Christendome, and Heathynesse,
Well knowne is my worthy fame.
King Arthur I am to name;
Through Christendome, and Heathynesse,
Well knowne is my worthy fame.
In Jesus Christ I doe beleeve;
I am a christyan bore:
The Father, Sone, and Holy Gost
One God, I doe adore.
I am a christyan bore:
The Father, Sone, and Holy Gost
One God, I doe adore.
38
In the four hundred ninetieth yeere,
Ore Brittaine I did rayne,
After my savior Christ his byrth:
What time I did maintaine
Ore Brittaine I did rayne,
After my savior Christ his byrth:
What time I did maintaine
The fellowshipp of the table round,
Soe famous in those dayes;
Whereatt a hundred noble knights,
And thirty sate alwayes:
Soe famous in those dayes;
Whereatt a hundred noble knights,
And thirty sate alwayes:
Who for their deeds and martiall feates,
As bookes done yett record,
Amongst all other nations
Wer feared through the world.
As bookes done yett record,
Amongst all other nations
Wer feared through the world.
And in the castle off Tyntagill
King Uther mee begate
Of Agyana a bewtyous ladye,
And come of his estate.
King Uther mee begate
Of Agyana a bewtyous ladye,
And come of his estate.
And when I was fifteen yeeres old,
Then was I crowned kinge:
All Brittaine that was att an upròre,
I did to quiett bringe.
Then was I crowned kinge:
All Brittaine that was att an upròre,
I did to quiett bringe.
And drove the Saxons from the realme,
Who had opprest this land;
All Scotland then throughe manly feates
I conquered with my hand.
Who had opprest this land;
39
I conquered with my hand.
Ireland, Denmarke, ‘and’ Norwaye,
These countryes wan I all;
Iseland, Gotheland, and Swetheland;
I made their kings my thrall.
These countryes wan I all;
Iseland, Gotheland, and Swetheland;
I made their kings my thrall.
I conquered all Gallya,
That now is called France;
And slew the hardye Froll in feild
My honor to advance.
That now is called France;
And slew the hardye Froll in feild
My honor to advance.
And the ugly gyant Dynabus
Soe terrible to vewe,
That in Saint Barnards mount did lye,
By force of armes I slew:
Soe terrible to vewe,
That in Saint Barnards mount did lye,
By force of armes I slew:
And Lucyus the emperour of Rome
I brought to deadly wracke;
And a thousand more of noble knightes
For feare did turne their backe:
I brought to deadly wracke;
And a thousand more of noble knightes
For feare did turne their backe:
Five kinges of paynims I did kill
Amidst that bloody strife;
Besides the Roman emperour
Who alsoe lost his life.
Amidst that bloody strife;
Besides the Roman emperour
Who alsoe lost his life.
40
Whose carcasse I did send to Rome
Cladd poorlye on a beere;
And afterward I past Mount-joye
The next approaching yeere.
Cladd poorlye on a beere;
And afterward I past Mount-joye
The next approaching yeere.
Then I came to Rome, where I was mett
Right as a conquerour,
And by all the cardinalls solempnelye
I was crowned an emperour.
Right as a conquerour,
And by all the cardinalls solempnelye
I was crowned an emperour.
One winter there I made abode:
Then word to mee was brought
Howe Mordred had oppresst the crowne:
What treason he had wrought,
Then word to mee was brought
Howe Mordred had oppresst the crowne:
What treason he had wrought,
At home in Brittaine with my queene;
Therefore I came with speede
To Brittaine backe, with all my power,
To quitt that traiterous deede:
Therefore I came with speede
To Brittaine backe, with all my power,
To quitt that traiterous deede:
And soone at Sandwiche I arrivde,
Where Mordred me withstoode:
But yett at last I landed there,
With effusion of much blood.
Where Mordred me withstoode:
But yett at last I landed there,
With effusion of much blood.
For there my nephew sir Gawaine dyed,
Being wounded in that sore,
The whiche sir Lancelot in fight
Had given him before.
Being wounded in that sore,
The whiche sir Lancelot in fight
Had given him before.
41
Thence chased I Mordered away,
Who fledd to London ryght,
From London to Winchester, and
To Cornewalle tooke his flyght.
Who fledd to London ryght,
From London to Winchester, and
To Cornewalle tooke his flyght.
And still I him pursued with speede
Till at the last we mett:
Wherby an appointed day of fight
Was there agreede and sett.
Till at the last we mett:
Wherby an appointed day of fight
Was there agreede and sett.
Where we did fight, of mortal life
Eche other to deprive,
Till of a hundred thousand men
Scarce one was left a live.
Eche other to deprive,
Till of a hundred thousand men
Scarce one was left a live.
There all the noble chivalrye
Of Brittaine tooke their end.
O see how fickle is their state
That doe on fates depend!
Of Brittaine tooke their end.
O see how fickle is their state
That doe on fates depend!
There all the traiterous men were slaine
Not one escapte away;
And there dyed all my vallyant knightes.
Alas! that woefull day!
Not one escapte away;
And there dyed all my vallyant knightes.
Alas! that woefull day!
Two and twenty yeere I ware the crowne
In honor and great fame;
And thus by death was suddenlye
Deprived of the same.
In honor and great fame;
And thus by death was suddenlye
Deprived of the same.
42
VI. A DYTTIE TO HEY DOWNE.
[_]
Copied from an old MS. in the Cotton Library, [Vesp. A. 25.] intitled, “Divers things of Hen. viij's time.”
Who sekes to tame the blustering winde,
Or causse the floods bend to his wyll,
Or els against dame natures kinde
To ‘change’ things frame by cunning skyll:
That man I thinke bestoweth paine,
Thoughe that his laboure be in vaine.
Or causse the floods bend to his wyll,
Or els against dame natures kinde
To ‘change’ things frame by cunning skyll:
That man I thinke bestoweth paine,
Thoughe that his laboure be in vaine.
Who strives to breake the sturdye steele,
Or goeth about to staye the sunne;
Who thinks to causse an oke to reele,
Which never can by force be done:
That man likewise bestoweth paine,
Thoughe that his laboure be in vaine.
Or goeth about to staye the sunne;
Who thinks to causse an oke to reele,
Which never can by force be done:
That man likewise bestoweth paine,
Thoughe that his laboure be in vaine.
Who thinks to stryve against the streame,
And for to sayle without a maste;
Unlesse he thinks perhapps to faine,
His travell ys forelorne and waste;
And so in cure of all his paine,
His travell'ys his cheffest gaine.
And for to sayle without a maste;
Unlesse he thinks perhapps to faine,
His travell ys forelorne and waste;
And so in cure of all his paine,
His travell'ys his cheffest gaine.
43
So he lykewise, that goes about
To please eche eye and every eare,
Had nede to have withouten doubt
A golden gyft with hym to beare;
For evyll report shall be his gaine,
Though he bestowe both toyle and paine.
To please eche eye and every eare,
Had nede to have withouten doubt
A golden gyft with hym to beare;
For evyll report shall be his gaine,
Though he bestowe both toyle and paine.
God grant eche man one to amend;
God send us all a happy place;
And let us pray unto the end,
That we may have our princes grace:
Amen, amen! so shall we gaine
A dewe reward for all our paine.
God send us all a happy place;
And let us pray unto the end,
That we may have our princes grace:
Amen, amen! so shall we gaine
A dewe reward for all our paine.
VII. GLASGERION.
[_]
An ingenious Friend thinks that the following old Dity (which is printed from the Editor's MS. Collection) may possibly have given birth to the Tragedy of the Orphan, in which Polidore intercepts Monimia's intended favours to Castalio.
Glasgerion was a kinges owne sonne,
And a harper he was goode:
He harped in the kinges chambere,
Where cuppe and caudle stoode.
And a harper he was goode:
He harped in the kinges chambere,
Where cuppe and caudle stoode.
44
And soe did he in the queenes chambere,
Till ladyes waxed glad.
And then bespake the kinges daughter;
These were the wordes she sayd.
Till ladyes waxed glad.
And then bespake the kinges daughter;
These were the wordes she sayd.
Strike on, strike on, Glasgèrion,
Of thy striking doe not blinne:
Theres never a stroke comes oer thy harpe,
But it glads my harte withinne.
Of thy striking doe not blinne:
Theres never a stroke comes oer thy harpe,
But it glads my harte withinne.
Faire might he fall, ladye, quoth hee,
Who taught you nowe to speake!
I have loved you, ladye, seven longe yeare
My minde I never durst breake.
Who taught you nowe to speake!
I have loved you, ladye, seven longe yeare
My minde I never durst breake.
But come to my bower, my Glasgeriòn,
When all men are att rest:
As I am a ladye true of my promise,
Thou shalt bee a welcome guest.
When all men are att rest:
As I am a ladye true of my promise,
Thou shalt bee a welcome guest.
Home then came Glasgèrion,
A glad man, lord! was hee.
And, come thou hither, Jacke my boy;
Come hither unto mee.
A glad man, lord! was hee.
And, come thou hither, Jacke my boy;
Come hither unto mee.
For the kinges daughter of Normandye
Hath granted mee my boone:
And att her chambere must I bee
Beffore the cocke have crowen.
Hath granted mee my boone:
45
Beffore the cocke have crowen.
O master, master, then quoth hee,
Lay your head heere on this stone:
For I will waken you, master deare,
Afore it be time to gone.
Lay your head heere on this stone:
For I will waken you, master deare,
Afore it be time to gone.
But up then rose that lither ladd,
And hose and shoone did on:
A coller he cast upon his necke,
He seemed a gentleman.
And hose and shoone did on:
A coller he cast upon his necke,
He seemed a gentleman.
And when he came to the ladyes chambere,
He thrilled upon a pinn.
The lady was true of her promise,
And rose and lett him in.
He thrilled upon a pinn.
The lady was true of her promise,
And rose and lett him in.
He did not take the lady gaye
To boulster nor to bed:
‘Nor thoughe hee had his wicked wille,
‘A single word he sed.
To boulster nor to bed:
‘Nor thoughe hee had his wicked wille,
‘A single word he sed.
He did not kisse that ladyes mouthe,
Nor when he came, nor yode:
And sore that ladye did mistrust
He was of some churls blode.
Nor when he came, nor yode:
And sore that ladye did mistrust
He was of some churls blode.
46
But home then came that lither ladd,
And did off his hole and shoone;
And cast the coller from off his necke:
He was but a churlès sonne.
And did off his hole and shoone;
And cast the coller from off his necke:
He was but a churlès sonne.
Awake, awake, my deere master,
The cock hath well-nigh crowen.
Awake, awake, my master deere,
I hold it time to be gone.
The cock hath well-nigh crowen.
Awake, awake, my master deere,
I hold it time to be gone.
For I have saddled your horse, master,
Well bridled I have your steede:
And I have served you a good breakfast:
For thereof ye have need.
Well bridled I have your steede:
And I have served you a good breakfast:
For thereof ye have need.
Up then rose, good Glasgeriòn,
And did on hose and shoone;
And cast a coller about his necke:
For he was a kinge his sonne.
And did on hose and shoone;
And cast a coller about his necke:
For he was a kinge his sonne.
And when he came to the ladyes chambere,
He thrilled upon the pinne:
The ladye was more than true of promise,
And rose and let him inn.
He thrilled upon the pinne:
The ladye was more than true of promise,
And rose and let him inn.
O whether have you left with me
Your bracelet or your glove?
Or are you returned backe againe
To know more of my love?
Your bracelet or your glove?
47
To know more of my love?
Glasgèrion swore a full great othe,
By oake, and ashe, and thorne;
Ladye, I was never in your chambère,
Sith the time that I was borne.
By oake, and ashe, and thorne;
Ladye, I was never in your chambère,
Sith the time that I was borne.
O then it was your lither foot-page,
He hath beguiled mee.
Then shee pulled forth a little pen-knìffe,
That hanged by her knee.
He hath beguiled mee.
Then shee pulled forth a little pen-knìffe,
That hanged by her knee.
Sayes, there shall never noe churlès blood
Within my bodye spring:
No churlès blood shall eer defile
The daughter of a kinge.
Within my bodye spring:
No churlès blood shall eer defile
The daughter of a kinge.
Home then went Glasgèrion,
And woe, good lord, was hee.
Sayes, come thou hither, Jacke my boy,
Come hither unto mee.
And woe, good lord, was hee.
Sayes, come thou hither, Jacke my boy,
Come hither unto mee.
If I had killed a man to night,
Jacke, I would tell it thee:
But if I have not killed a man to night
Jacke, thou hast killed three.
Jacke, I would tell it thee:
But if I have not killed a man to night
Jacke, thou hast killed three.
48
And he pulled out his bright browne sworde,
And dryed it on his sleeve,
And he smote off that lither ladds head,
Who did his ladye grieve.
And dryed it on his sleeve,
And he smote off that lither ladds head,
Who did his ladye grieve.
He sett the swords poynt till his brest,
The pummil untill a stone:
Throw the falsenesse of that lither ladd,
These three lives all were gone.
The pummil untill a stone:
Throw the falsenesse of that lither ladd,
These three lives all were gone.
VIII. OLD SIR ROBIN OF PORTINGALE.
Let never again soe old a man
Marrye soe yonge a wife,
As did old ‘sir’ Robin of Portingale;
Who may rue all the dayes of his life.
Marrye soe yonge a wife,
As did old ‘sir’ Robin of Portingale;
Who may rue all the dayes of his life.
For the mayors daughter of Lin, god wott,
He chose her to his wife,
And thought with her to have lived in love,
But they fell to hate and strife.
He chose her to his wife,
And thought with her to have lived in love,
But they fell to hate and strife.
49
They scarce were in their wed-bed laid,
And scarce was hee asleepe,
But upp she rose, and forth shee goes,
To the steward, and gan to weepe.
And scarce was hee asleepe,
But upp she rose, and forth shee goes,
To the steward, and gan to weepe.
Sleepe you, wake you, faire sir Gyles?
Or be you not withinn?
Sleepe you, wake you, faire sir Gyles,
Arise and let me inn.
Or be you not withinn?
Sleepe you, wake you, faire sir Gyles,
Arise and let me inn.
O, I am waking, sweete, he said,
Sweete ladye, what is your wille?
I have bethought me of a wyle
How my wed-lord weell spille.
Sweete ladye, what is your wille?
I have bethought me of a wyle
How my wed-lord weell spille.
Twenty-four good knights, shee sayes,
That dwell about this towne,
Even twenty-four of my near cozèns,
Shall helpe to ding him downe.
That dwell about this towne,
Even twenty-four of my near cozèns,
Shall helpe to ding him downe.
All this beheard his litle footepage,
As he watered his masters steed;
And for his masters sad perìlle
His verry heart did bleed.
As he watered his masters steed;
And for his masters sad perìlle
His verry heart did bleed.
He mourned, sighed, and wept full sore:
I sweare by the holy roode
The teares he for his master wept
Were blent water and bloode.
I sweare by the holy roode
The teares he for his master wept
Were blent water and bloode.
50
All that beheard his deare mastèr
As he stood at his garden pale:
Sayes, Ever alacke, my litle foot-page,
What causes thee to wail?
As he stood at his garden pale:
Sayes, Ever alacke, my litle foot-page,
What causes thee to wail?
Hath any one done to thee wronge
Any of thy fellowes here?
Or is any ‘one’ of thy good friends dead,
That thou shedst manye a teare?
Any of thy fellowes here?
Or is any ‘one’ of thy good friends dead,
That thou shedst manye a teare?
Or if it be my head bookes-man,
Aggrieved he shal bee:
For no man here within my howse,
Shall doe wrong unto thee.
Aggrieved he shal bee:
For no man here within my howse,
Shall doe wrong unto thee.
O, it is not your head bookes-man,
Nor none of his degree:
But ‘on’ to-morrow ere it be noone
All doomed to die are yee.
Nor none of his degree:
But ‘on’ to-morrow ere it be noone
All doomed to die are yee.
And of that bethank your head stewàrd,
And thank your gay ladèe.
If this be true, my litle foot-page,
The heyre of my land thoust bee.
And thank your gay ladèe.
If this be true, my litle foot-page,
The heyre of my land thoust bee.
If it be not true, my dear mastèr,
No good death let me die.
If it bee not true, thou litle foot-page,
A dead corse shalt thou lie.
No good death let me die.
If it bee not true, thou litle foot-page,
A dead corse shalt thou lie.
51
O call now downe my faire ladye,
O call her downe to mee:
And tell my ladye gay how sicke,
And like to die I bee.
O call her downe to mee:
And tell my ladye gay how sicke,
And like to die I bee.
Downe then came his ladye faire,
All clad in purple and pall:
The rings that were on her fingèrs,
Cast light throughout the hall.
All clad in purple and pall:
The rings that were on her fingèrs,
Cast light throughout the hall.
What is your will, my owne wed-lord?
What is your will with mee?
O see, my ladye deere, how sicke,
And like to die I bee.
What is your will with mee?
O see, my ladye deere, how sicke,
And like to die I bee.
And thou be sicke, my own wed-lord,
Soe sore it grieveth mee:
But my five maydens and myselfe
Will make the bedde for thee:
Soe sore it grieveth mee:
But my five maydens and myselfe
Will make the bedde for thee:
And at the waking of your first sleepe,
We will a hot drinke make:
And at the waking of your first sleepe,
Your sorrowes we will slake.
We will a hot drinke make:
And at the waking of your first sleepe,
Your sorrowes we will slake.
He put a silk cote on his backe,
And mail of manye a fold:
And hee putt a steele cap on his head,
Was gilt with good red gold.
And mail of manye a fold:
And hee putt a steele cap on his head,
Was gilt with good red gold.
52
He layd a bright browne sword by his side,
And another att his feete:
And twentye good knights he placed at hand,
To watch him in his sleepe.
And another att his feete:
And twentye good knights he placed at hand,
To watch him in his sleepe.
And about the middle time of the night,
Came twentye-four traitours inn:
Sir Giles he was the foremost man,
The leader of that ginn.
Came twentye-four traitours inn:
Sir Giles he was the foremost man,
The leader of that ginn.
The old knight with his bright browne sword,
Sir Gyles head soon did winn:
And scant of all those twenty-foure,
Went out one quick agenn.
Sir Gyles head soon did winn:
And scant of all those twenty-foure,
Went out one quick agenn.
None save only a litle foot page,
Crept forth at a window of stone:
And he had two armes when he came in,
And he went back with one.
Crept forth at a window of stone:
And he had two armes when he came in,
And he went back with one.
Upp then came that ladie gaye
With torches burning bright:
She thought to have brought sir Gyles a drinke,
Butt she found her owne wedd knight.
With torches burning bright:
She thought to have brought sir Gyles a drinke,
Butt she found her owne wedd knight.
The first thinge that she stumbled on
It was sir Gyles his foote:
Sayes, Ever alacke, and woe is mee!
Here lyes my sweete hart-roote.
It was sir Gyles his foote:
Sayes, Ever alacke, and woe is mee!
Here lyes my sweete hart-roote.
53
The next thinge that she stumbled on
It was sir Gyles his heade:
Sayes, Ever, alacke, and woe is me!
Heere lyes my true love deade.
It was sir Gyles his heade:
Sayes, Ever, alacke, and woe is me!
Heere lyes my true love deade.
Hee cutt the pappes beside her brest,
And did her body spille;
He cutt the eares beside her heade,
And bade her love her fille.
And did her body spille;
He cutt the eares beside her heade,
And bade her love her fille.
He called then up his litle foot-page,
And made him there his heyre;
And sayd henceforth my worldlye goodes
And countrye I forsweare.
And made him there his heyre;
And sayd henceforth my worldlye goodes
And countrye I forsweare.
He shope the crosse on his right shouldèr,
Of the white ‘clothe’ and the redde ,
And went him into the holy land,
Whereas Christ was quicke and deade.
Of the white ‘clothe’ and the redde ,
And went him into the holy land,
Whereas Christ was quicke and deade.
Every person, who went on a Croisade to the Holy Land, usually wore a cross on his upper garment, on the right shoulder, as a badge of his profession. Different nations were distinguished by crosses of different colours: The English wore white; the French red; &c. This circumstance seems to be confounded in the ballad. [Vide Spelmanns Glossar. Chambers Dict. &c.]
54
IX. CHILD WATERS.
[_]
Child is frequently used by our old writers, as a Title. It is repeatedly given to Prince Arthur in the Fairie Queen: and the son of a king is in the same poem called Child Tristram. [B. 5. c. 11. st. 8. 13.—B. 6. c. 2. st. 36.—Ibid. c. 8. st. 15.] In an old ballad quoted in Shakespeare's K. Lear, the hero of Ariosto is called Child Roland. Mr. Theobald supposes this use of the word received along with their romances from the Spaniards, with whom Infante signifies a Prince. A more eminent critic tells us, that “in the old times of chivalry, the noble youth, who were candidates for knighthood, during the time of their probation were called Infans, Varlets, Damoysels, Bacheliers. The most noble of the youth were particularly called Infans.” [Vid. Warb. Shakesp.] A late commentator on Spenser observes, that the Saxon word cnihz knight, signifies also a Child.
[See Upton's gloss to the F. Q.]
The Editor's MS. collection, whence the following piece is taken, affords several other ballads, wherein the word Child occurs as a title: but in none of these it signifies “Prince.” See the song intitled Gil Morrice, in this volume.
It ought to be observed that the Word Child or Chield is still used in North Britain to denominate a Man, commonly with some contemptuous character affixed to him: but sometimes to denote Man in general.
Childe Waters in his stable stoode
And stroakt his milke-white steede:
To him a fayre yonge ladye came
As ever ware womans weede.
And stroakt his milke-white steede:
To him a fayre yonge ladye came
As ever ware womans weede.
55
Sayes, Christ you save, good Childe Waters;
Sayes, Christ you save, and see:
My girdle of gold that was too longe,
Is now too short for mee.
Sayes, Christ you save, and see:
My girdle of gold that was too longe,
Is now too short for mee.
And all is with one childe of yours,
I feele sturre at my side:
My gowne of greene it is too straighte;
Before, it was too wide.
I feele sturre at my side:
My gowne of greene it is too straighte;
Before, it was too wide.
If the childe be mine, faire Ellen, he sayd,
Be mine as you tell mee;
Then take you Cheshire and Lancashire both,
Take them your owne to bee.
Be mine as you tell mee;
Then take you Cheshire and Lancashire both,
Take them your owne to bee.
If the childe be mine, faire Ellen, he sayd,
Be mine, as you doe sweare;
Then take you Cheshire and Lancashire both,
And make that childe your heyre.
Be mine, as you doe sweare;
Then take you Cheshire and Lancashire both,
And make that childe your heyre.
Shee sayes, I had rather have one kisse,
Childe Waters, of thy mouth;
Than I wolde have Cheshire and Lancashire both,
That lye by north and southe.
Childe Waters, of thy mouth;
Than I wolde have Cheshire and Lancashire both,
That lye by north and southe.
And I had rather have one twinkling,
Childe Waters, of thine ee:
Then I wolde have Cheshire and Lancashire both,
To take them mine owne to bee.
Childe Waters, of thine ee:
Then I wolde have Cheshire and Lancashire both,
To take them mine owne to bee.
56
To morrowe, Ellen, I must forth ryde
Farr into the north countree;
The fayrest ladye that I can finde,
Ellen, must goe with mee.
Farr into the north countree;
The fayrest ladye that I can finde,
Ellen, must goe with mee.
‘Thoughe I am not that ladye fayre,
‘Yet let me go with thee’:
And ever I pray you, Childe Watèrs,
Your foot-page let me bee.
‘Yet let me go with thee’:
And ever I pray you, Childe Watèrs,
Your foot-page let me bee.
If you will my foot-page bee, Ellèn,
As you doe tell to mee;
Then you must cut your gowne of greene,
An inch above your knee:
As you doe tell to mee;
Then you must cut your gowne of greene,
An inch above your knee:
Soe must you doe your yellowe lockes,
An inch above your ee:
You must tell no man what is my name;
My footpage then you shall bee.
An inch above your ee:
You must tell no man what is my name;
My footpage then you shall bee.
Shee, all the long daye Childe Waters rode,
Ran barefoote by his syde;
Yet was he never soe courteous a knighte,
To say, Ellen, will you ryde?
Ran barefoote by his syde;
Yet was he never soe courteous a knighte,
To say, Ellen, will you ryde?
Shee, all the long daye Childe Waters rode,
Ran barefoote thorow the broome;
Yet was hee never soe courteous a knighte,
To say, put on your shoone.
Ran barefoote thorow the broome;
Yet was hee never soe courteous a knighte,
To say, put on your shoone.
57
Ride softlye, shee sayd, O Childe Waters,
Why doe you ryde so fast?
The childe, which is no mans but thine,
My bodye itt will brast.
Why doe you ryde so fast?
The childe, which is no mans but thine,
My bodye itt will brast.
Hee sayth, seest thou yond water, Ellen,
That flows from banke to brimme.—
I trust in God, O Childe Waters,
You never will see me swimme.
That flows from banke to brimme.—
I trust in God, O Childe Waters,
You never will see me swimme.
But when shee came to the water syde,
Shee sayled to the chinne:
Nowe the Lord of heaven be my speede,
For I must learne to swimme.
Shee sayled to the chinne:
Nowe the Lord of heaven be my speede,
For I must learne to swimme.
The salt waters bare up her clothes;
Our Ladye bare up her chinne:
Childe Waters was a woe man, good Lord,
To fee faire Ellen swimme.
Our Ladye bare up her chinne:
Childe Waters was a woe man, good Lord,
To fee faire Ellen swimme.
And when shee over the water was
Shee then came to his knee.
Hee sayd, Come hither, thou fayre Ellèn,
Loe yonder what I see.
Shee then came to his knee.
Hee sayd, Come hither, thou fayre Ellèn,
Loe yonder what I see.
Seest thou not yonder hall, Ellèn?
Of red gold shines the yate:
Of twenty foure faire ladyes there
The fairest is my mate.
Of red gold shines the yate:
Of twenty foure faire ladyes there
The fairest is my mate.
58
Seest thou not yonder hall, Ellèn?
Of red golde shines the towre:
There are twenty four fayre ladyes there,
The fayrest is my paramoure.
Of red golde shines the towre:
There are twenty four fayre ladyes there,
The fayrest is my paramoure.
I see the hall now, Childe Waters,
Of red golde shines the yate:
God give you good now of yourselfe,
And of your worthye mate.
Of red golde shines the yate:
God give you good now of yourselfe,
And of your worthye mate.
I see the hall now, Childe Waters,
Of red golde shines the towre:
God give you good now of yourselfe,
And of your paramoure.
Of red golde shines the towre:
God give you good now of yourselfe,
And of your paramoure.
There twenty four fayre ladyes were
A playing at the ball:
And Ellen the fayrest ladye there,
Must bring his steed to the stall.
A playing at the ball:
And Ellen the fayrest ladye there,
Must bring his steed to the stall.
There twenty four fayre ladyes were,
A playinge at the chesse;
And Ellen the fayrest ladye there,
Must bring his horse to grasse.
A playinge at the chesse;
And Ellen the fayrest ladye there,
Must bring his horse to grasse.
And then bespake Childe Waters sister,
These were the wordes sayd shee:
You have the prettyest page, brothèr,
That ever I did see.
These were the wordes sayd shee:
You have the prettyest page, brothèr,
That ever I did see.
59
But that his bellye it is foe bigge,
His girdle stands soe hye:
And ever I pray you, Childe Watèrs,
Let him in my chamber lye.
His girdle stands soe hye:
And ever I pray you, Childe Watèrs,
Let him in my chamber lye.
It is not fit for a little foot page,
That has run throughe mosse and myre,
To lye in the chamber of any ladye,
That weares soe riche attyre.
That has run throughe mosse and myre,
To lye in the chamber of any ladye,
That weares soe riche attyre.
It is more meete for a little foot page,
That has run throughe mosse and myre,
To take his supper upon his knee,
And lye by the kitchen fyre.
That has run throughe mosse and myre,
To take his supper upon his knee,
And lye by the kitchen fyre.
Now when they had supped every one,
To bedd they tooke theyr waye:
He sayd, come hither, my little foot-page,
And hearken what I saye.
To bedd they tooke theyr waye:
He sayd, come hither, my little foot-page,
And hearken what I saye.
Goe thee downe into yonder towne,
And lowe into the streete;
The fayrest ladye that thou canst finde,
Hyre in mine armes to sleepe,
And take her up in thine armes twaine,
For filing of her feete.
And lowe into the streete;
The fayrest ladye that thou canst finde,
Hyre in mine armes to sleepe,
And take her up in thine armes twaine,
For filing of her feete.
Ellen is gone into the towne,
And lowe into the streete:
The fayrest ladye that shee colde finde,
She hyred in his armes to sleepe;
And tooke her up in her armes twayne,
For filing of her feete.
And lowe into the streete:
60
She hyred in his armes to sleepe;
And tooke her up in her armes twayne,
For filing of her feete.
I praye you nowe, good Childe Watèrs,
Let mee lye at your feete:
For there is noe place about this house,
Where I may saye a sleepe.
Let mee lye at your feete:
For there is noe place about this house,
Where I may saye a sleepe.
‘He gave her leave, and faire Ellèn
‘Down at his beds feet laye:
This done the nighte drove on apace,
And when it was neare the daye,
‘Down at his beds feet laye:
This done the nighte drove on apace,
And when it was neare the daye,
Hee sayd, Rise up, my little foot-page,
Give my steede corne and haye;
And give him nowe the good black oats,
To carry mee better awaye.
Give my steede corne and haye;
And give him nowe the good black oats,
To carry mee better awaye.
Up then rose the fayre Ellèn
And gave his steede corne and haye:
And soe shee did the good black oates,
To carry him the better awaye.
And gave his steede corne and haye:
And soe shee did the good black oates,
To carry him the better awaye.
She leaned her back to the manger side,
And grievouslye did groane:
Shee leaned her back to the manger side,
And there shee made her moane.
And grievouslye did groane:
Shee leaned her back to the manger side,
And there shee made her moane.
61
And that beheard his mother deare,
Shee heard ‘her woefull woe.’
Shee sayd, Rise up, thou Childe Watèrs,
And into thy stable goe.
Shee heard ‘her woefull woe.’
Shee sayd, Rise up, thou Childe Watèrs,
And into thy stable goe.
For in thy stable is a ghost,
That grievouslye doth grone:
Or else some woman laboures with childe,
Shee is so woe-begone.
That grievouslye doth grone:
Or else some woman laboures with childe,
Shee is so woe-begone.
Up then rose Childe Waters soone,
And did on his shirte of silke;
And then he put on his other clothes,
On his bodye as white as milke.
And did on his shirte of silke;
And then he put on his other clothes,
On his bodye as white as milke.
And when he came to the stable dore,
Full still there hee did stand,
That hee mighte heare his fayre Ellèn,
Howe shee made her monànd.
Full still there hee did stand,
That hee mighte heare his fayre Ellèn,
Howe shee made her monànd.
Shee sayd, Lullabye, mine own dear childe,
Lullabye, deare childe, deare:
I wolde thy father were a kinge,
Thy mothere layd on a biere.
Lullabye, deare childe, deare:
I wolde thy father were a kinge,
Thy mothere layd on a biere.
Peace nowe, hee sayd, good faire Elleèn,
Bee of good cheere, I praye;
And the bridall and the churchinge bothe
Shall bee upon one daye.
Bee of good cheere, I praye;
And the bridall and the churchinge bothe
Shall bee upon one daye.
62
X. PHILLIDA AND CORYDON.
[_]
This Sonnet is given from a small quarto MS in the editor's possession, written in the time of Q. Elizabeth. Another Copy of it, containing some variations, is reprinted in the Muses Library p. 295. from an ancient miscellany, intitled England's Helicon 1600. 4to. The author was Nicholas Breton, a writer of some fame in the reign of Elizabeth; who also published an interlude intitled “An old man's lesson and a young man's love.” 1605. 4to. and many other little pieces in prose and verse, the titles of which may be seen in Winstanley, Ames' Typog. and Osborne's Harl. catalog. &c.—He is mentioned with great respect by Meres, in his 2d pt of Wit's Common-wealth. 1598. f. 283. and is alluded to in Beaumont and Fletcher's Scornful Lady, Act 2. and again in Wit without money, A. 3. —See Whalley's Ben Jonson, vol. 3. p. 103.
Phillida and Corydon is one of the Songs in “The Honourable Entertainment gieven to the Queenes Majestie in Progresse at Elvetham in Hampshire, by the R. H. the Earle of Hertford. 1591.” 4to. [Printed by Wolfe. No name of author.] See in that pamphlet,
“The thirde daies Entertainment.“On Wednesday morning about 9 o' clock, as her Majestie opened a casement of her gallerie window, ther were 3 excellent musitians, who being disguised in auncient country attire, did greet her with a pleasant song of Corydon and Phillida, made in 3 parts of purpose. The song, as well for the worth of the dittie, as the aptnesse of the note thereto applied, it pleased her Highnesse after it had been once sung to commend it againe, and highly to grace it with her cheerefull acceptance and commendation.
“The Plowman's Song.
In the merrie month of May, &c.”
The Splendour and Magnificence of Elizabeth's reign is no where more strongly painted than in these little Diaries of some of her summer excursions to the houses of her nobility; nor could a more acceptable present be given to the world, than a republication of a select number of such details as this of the entertainment at Elvetham, that at Killingworth, &c. &c. which so strongly mark the spirit of the times and present us with scenes so very remote from modern manners.
In the merrie moneth of Maye,
In a morne by break of daye,
With a troope of damselles playing
Forthe ‘I yode’ forsooth a maying:
In a morne by break of daye,
With a troope of damselles playing
Forthe ‘I yode’ forsooth a maying:
When anon by a wood fide,
Where that Maye was in his pride,
I espied all alone
Phillida and Corydon.
Where that Maye was in his pride,
I espied all alone
Phillida and Corydon.
Muche adoe there was, god wot;
He wold love, and she wold not:
She sayde, never man was trewe;
He sayes, never false to you.
He wold love, and she wold not:
63
He sayes, never false to you.
He sayde, hee had lovde her longe:
She sayes, love should have no wronge.
Corydon wold kisse her then:
She sayes, maydes must kisse no men,
She sayes, love should have no wronge.
Corydon wold kisse her then:
She sayes, maydes must kisse no men,
Tyll they doe for good and all:
When she made the shepperde call
All the heavens to wytnes truthe,
Never loved a truer youthe.
When she made the shepperde call
All the heavens to wytnes truthe,
Never loved a truer youthe.
Then with manie a prettie othe,
Yea and nay, and, faith and trothe;
Suche as seelie shepperdes use
When they would not love abuse;
Yea and nay, and, faith and trothe;
Suche as seelie shepperdes use
When they would not love abuse;
Love, that had bene long deluded,
Was with kisses sweete concluded;
And the mayde with garlands gaye
‘Crownde’ the lady of the Maye.
Was with kisses sweete concluded;
And the mayde with garlands gaye
‘Crownde’ the lady of the Maye.
XI. LITTLE MUSGRAVE AND LADY BARNARD.
[_]
This ballad is ancient, and has been popular: we find it quoted in many old plays. See Beaum. and Fletcher's Knight
64
“Limber and sound! besides I sing Musgrave,
“And for Chevy-chace no lark comes near me.
“And for Chevy-chace no lark comes near me.
In the Pepys Collection is an imitation of this old song, in a different measure, by a more modern pen, with many alterations, but evidently for the worse.
This is given from an old printed copy in the British Museum, corrected in part by the Editor's folio manuscript.
As it fell out on a highe holye daye,
As many bee in the yeare,
When yong men and maides together do goe
Their masses and mattins to heare,
As many bee in the yeare,
When yong men and maides together do goe
Their masses and mattins to heare,
Little Musgràve came to the church door,
The priest was at the mass;
But he had more mind of the fine womèn,
Then he had of our Ladyes grace.
The priest was at the mass;
But he had more mind of the fine womèn,
Then he had of our Ladyes grace.
And some of them were clad in greene,
And others were clad in pall;
And then came in my Lord Barnardes wife,
The fairest among them all.
And others were clad in pall;
And then came in my Lord Barnardes wife,
The fairest among them all.
Shee cast an eye on little Musgràve,
As bright as the summer sunne:
O then bethought him little Musgràve,
This ladyes heart I have wonne.
As bright as the summer sunne:
O then bethought him little Musgràve,
This ladyes heart I have wonne.
65
Quoth she, I have loved thee, little Musgràve,
Fulle long and manye a daye.
So have I loved you, ladye faire,
Yet word I never durst saye.
Fulle long and manye a daye.
So have I loved you, ladye faire,
Yet word I never durst saye.
I have a bower at Bucklesford-Bury,
Full daintilye bedight,
If thoult wend thither, my little Musgràve,
Thoust lig in mine armes all night.
Full daintilye bedight,
If thoult wend thither, my little Musgràve,
Thoust lig in mine armes all night.
Quoth hee, I thanke yee, ladye faire,
This kindness yee shew to mee;
And whether it be to my weale or woe,
This night will I lig with thee.
This kindness yee shew to mee;
And whether it be to my weale or woe,
This night will I lig with thee.
All this beheard a tiney foot-page,
By his ladyes coach as he ranne:
Quoth he, thoughe I am my ladyes page,
Yet Ime my lord Barnardes manne.
By his ladyes coach as he ranne:
Quoth he, thoughe I am my ladyes page,
Yet Ime my lord Barnardes manne.
My lord Barnàrd shall knowe of this
Although I lose a limbe.
And ever whereas the bridges were broke,
He layd hin downe to swimme.
Although I lose a limbe.
And ever whereas the bridges were broke,
He layd hin downe to swimme.
Asleep or awake, thou lord Barnàard,
As thou art a man of life,
Lo! this same night at Bucklesford-Bury
Little Musgraves abed with thy wife.
As thou art a man of life,
Lo! this same night at Bucklesford-Bury
Little Musgraves abed with thy wife.
66
If it be trewe, thou tiney foot-page,
This tale thou hast told to mee,
Then all my lands in Bucklesford-Bury
I freelye will give to thee.
This tale thou hast told to mee,
Then all my lands in Bucklesford-Bury
I freelye will give to thee.
But and it be a lye, thou tiney foot-page,
This tale thou hast told to mee,
On the highest tree in Bucklesford-Bury
All hanged shalt thou bee.
This tale thou hast told to mee,
On the highest tree in Bucklesford-Bury
All hanged shalt thou bee.
Rise up, rise up, my merry men all,
And saddle to me my steede;
This night must I to Bucklesford-Bury;
God wott, I had never more neede.
And saddle to me my steede;
This night must I to Bucklesford-Bury;
God wott, I had never more neede.
Then some they whistled, and some they sang,
And some did loudlye saye,
Whenever lord Barnardes horne it blewe
Awaye, Musgràve, away.
And some did loudlye saye,
Whenever lord Barnardes horne it blewe
Awaye, Musgràve, away.
Methinkes I hear the throftle cocke,
Methinkes I heare the jaye,
Methinkes I heare lord Barnardes horne;
I would I were awaye.
Methinkes I heare the jaye,
Methinkes I heare lord Barnardes horne;
I would I were awaye.
Lye still, lye still, thou little Musgrà,
And huggle me from the cold;
For it is but some shephardes boye
A whistling his sheepe to the fold.
And huggle me from the cold;
For it is but some shephardes boye
A whistling his sheepe to the fold.
67
Is not thy hawke upon the pearche,
Thy horse eating corne and haye?
And thou a gaye ladye within thine armes:
And wouldst thou be awaye?
Thy horse eating corne and haye?
And thou a gaye ladye within thine armes:
And wouldst thou be awaye?
With that lord Barnard came to the dore,
And lighted upon a stone;
And he pulled out three silver keyes,
And opened the dores eche one.
And lighted upon a stone;
And he pulled out three silver keyes,
And opened the dores eche one.
He lifted up the coverlett,
He lifted up the sheete;
How now, how now, thou little Musgràve,
Dost find my gaye ladye sweete?
He lifted up the sheete;
How now, how now, thou little Musgràve,
Dost find my gaye ladye sweete?
I find her sweete, quoth little Musgràve,
The more is my griefe and paine;
Ide gladlye give three hundred poundes
That I were on yonder plaine.
The more is my griefe and paine;
Ide gladlye give three hundred poundes
That I were on yonder plaine.
Arise, arise, thou little Musgràve,
And put thy cloathes nowe on,
It shall never be said in my countree,
That I killed a naked man.
And put thy cloathes nowe on,
It shall never be said in my countree,
That I killed a naked man.
I have two swordes in one scabbàrde,
Full deare they cost my purse;
And thou shalt have the best of them,
And I will have the worse.
Full deare they cost my purse;
And thou shalt have the best of them,
And I will have the worse.
68
The first stroke that little Musgrave strucke,
He hurt lord Barnard sore;
The next stroke that lord Barnard strucke,
Little Musgrave never strucke more.
He hurt lord Barnard sore;
The next stroke that lord Barnard strucke,
Little Musgrave never strucke more.
With that bespake the ladye faire,
In bed whereas she laye,
Althoughe thou art dead, my little Musgràve,
Yet for thee I will praye:
In bed whereas she laye,
Althoughe thou art dead, my little Musgràve,
Yet for thee I will praye:
And wishe well to thy soule will I,
So long as I have life;
So will I not do for thee, Barnàrd,
Thoughe I am thy wedded wife.
So long as I have life;
So will I not do for thee, Barnàrd,
Thoughe I am thy wedded wife.
He cut her pappes from off her brest;
Great pitye it was to see
Some drops of this fair ladyes bloode
Run trickling downe her knee.
Great pitye it was to see
Some drops of this fair ladyes bloode
Run trickling downe her knee.
Wo worth, wo worth ye, my merrye men all,
You never were borne for my goode:
Why did you not offer to stay my hande,
When you see me wax so woode?
You never were borne for my goode:
Why did you not offer to stay my hande,
When you see me wax so woode?
For I have slaine the fairest sir knighte,
That ever rode on a steede;
So have I done the fairest ladyè,
That evér ware womans weede.
That ever rode on a steede;
So have I done the fairest ladyè,
That evér ware womans weede.
69
A grave, a grave, lord Barnard cryde,
To putt these lovers in;
But lay my ladye o' the upper hande,
For shee comes o' the better kin.
To putt these lovers in;
But lay my ladye o' the upper hande,
For shee comes o' the better kin.
XII. THE EW-BUGHTS MARION.
A Scottish Song.
[_]
This sonnet is said to be of great antiquity: that and it's simplicity of sentiment have recommended it to a place here.
Will ze gae to the ew-bughts, Marion,
And wear in the sheip wi' mee?
The sun shines sweit, my Marion,
But nae half sae sweit as thee.
O Marion's a bonnie lass;
And the blyth blinks in her ee:
And fain wad I marrie Marion,
Gin Marion wad marrie mee.
And wear in the sheip wi' mee?
The sun shines sweit, my Marion,
But nae half sae sweit as thee.
O Marion's a bonnie lass;
And the blyth blinks in her ee:
And fain wad I marrie Marion,
Gin Marion wad marrie mee.
70
Theires gowd in zour garters, Marion;
And siller on zour white hauss-bane:
Fou faine wad I kisse my Marion
At eene quhan I cum hame.
Theires braw lads in Earnslaw, Marion,
Quha gape and glowr wi' their ee
At kirk, quhan they see my Marion;
Bot nane of tham lues like mee.
And siller on zour white hauss-bane:
Fou faine wad I kisse my Marion
At eene quhan I cum hame.
Theires braw lads in Earnslaw, Marion,
Quha gape and glowr wi' their ee
At kirk, quhan they see my Marion;
Bot nane of tham lues like mee.
Ive nine milk-ews, my Marion,
A cow and a brawney quay:
Ile gie tham au to my Marion,
Just on her bridal day.
And zees get a grein sey apron,
And waistcote o' London broun;
And wow bot ze will be vaporing
Quhaneer ze gang to the toun.
A cow and a brawney quay:
Ile gie tham au to my Marion,
Just on her bridal day.
And zees get a grein sey apron,
And waistcote o' London broun;
And wow bot ze will be vaporing
Quhaneer ze gang to the toun.
Ime yong and stout, my Marion,
Nane dance lik mee on the greine;
And gin ze forsak me, Marion,
Ile een gae draw up wi' Jeane.
Sae put on zour pearlins, Marion,
And kirtle oth cramasie;
And sune as my chin has nae haire on,
I sall cum west, and see zee.
Nane dance lik mee on the greine;
And gin ze forsak me, Marion,
Ile een gae draw up wi' Jeane.
Sae put on zour pearlins, Marion,
And kirtle oth cramasie;
And sune as my chin has nae haire on,
I sall cum west, and see zee.
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XIII. THE KNIGHT, AND SHEPHERD'S DAUGHTER.
[_]
This ballad (given from an old black-letter Copy) was popular in the time of Q. Elizabeth, being usually printed with her picture before it, as Hearne informs us in his preface to “Gul. Neubrig. Hist. Oxon. 1719. 8vo. vol. 1. p. lxx.” It is quoted in Fletcher's comedy of the Pilgrim, Act. 4. sc. 1.
There was a shepherds daughter
Came tripping on the waye;
And there by chance a knighte shee mett,
Which caused her to staye.
Came tripping on the waye;
And there by chance a knighte shee mett,
Which caused her to staye.
Good morrowe to you, beauteous maide,
These words pronounced hee:
O I shall dye this daye, he sayd,
If Ive not my wille of thee.
These words pronounced hee:
O I shall dye this daye, he sayd,
If Ive not my wille of thee.
The Lord forbid, the maide replyde,
That you shold waxe so wode!
‘But for all that shee could do or saye,
‘He wold not be withstood.
That you shold waxe so wode!
‘But for all that shee could do or saye,
‘He wold not be withstood.
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Sith you have had your will of mee,
And put me to open shame,
Now, if you are a courteous knighte,
Tell me what is your name?
And put me to open shame,
Now, if you are a courteous knighte,
Tell me what is your name?
Some do call mee Jacke, sweet heart,
And some do call mee Jille;
But when I come to the kings faire courte
They call me Wilfulle Wille.
And some do call mee Jille;
But when I come to the kings faire courte
They call me Wilfulle Wille.
He sett his foot into the stirrup,
And awaye then he did ride;
She tuckt her girdle about her middle
And ranne close by his side.
And awaye then he did ride;
She tuckt her girdle about her middle
And ranne close by his side.
But when she came to the brode watèr,
She sett her brest and swamme;
And when she was got out againe,
She tooke to her heels and ranne.
She sett her brest and swamme;
And when she was got out againe,
She tooke to her heels and ranne.
He never was the courteous knighte,
To saye, faire maide, will ye ride?
Nor she was never so loving a maide
To saye, sir knighte abide.
To saye, faire maide, will ye ride?
Nor she was never so loving a maide
To saye, sir knighte abide.
When she came to the kings faire courte,
She knocked at the ring;
So readye was the king himself
To let this faire maide in.
She knocked at the ring;
So readye was the king himself
To let this faire maide in.
73
Now Christ you save, my gracious liege,
Now Christ you save and see,
You have a knighte within your courte
This daye hath robbed mee.
Now Christ you save and see,
You have a knighte within your courte
This daye hath robbed mee.
What hath he robbed thee of, sweet heart?
Of purple or of pall?
Or hath he took thy gaye gold ring
From off thy finger small?
Of purple or of pall?
Or hath he took thy gaye gold ring
From off thy finger small?
He hath not robbed mee, my leige,
Of purple nor of pall:
But he hath gotten my maiden head,
Which grieves mee worst of all.
Of purple nor of pall:
But he hath gotten my maiden head,
Which grieves mee worst of all.
Now if he be a batchelor,
His bodye Ile give to thee;
But if he be a married man,
High hanged hee shall bee.
His bodye Ile give to thee;
But if he be a married man,
High hanged hee shall bee.
He called downe his merrye men all,
By one, by two, by three;
Sir William used to bee the first,
But nowe the last came hee.
By one, by two, by three;
Sir William used to bee the first,
But nowe the last came hee.
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He brought her downe full fortye pounde,
Tyed up withinne a glove:
Faire maid, Ile give the same to thee;
Go, seeke thee another love.
Tyed up withinne a glove:
Faire maid, Ile give the same to thee;
Go, seeke thee another love.
O Ile have none of your gold, she sayde,
Nor Ile have none of your fee;
But your faire bodye I must have
The king hath granted mee.
Nor Ile have none of your fee;
But your faire bodye I must have
The king hath granted mee.
Sir William ranne and fetchd her then
Five hundred pound in golde,
Saying, faire maide, take this to thee,
Thy fault will never be tolde.
Five hundred pound in golde,
Saying, faire maide, take this to thee,
Thy fault will never be tolde.
Tis not the gold that shall mee tempt,
These words then answered shee,
But your own bodye I must have,
The king hath granted mee.
These words then answered shee,
But your own bodye I must have,
The king hath granted mee.
Would I had dranke the water cleare,
When I did drinke the wine,
Rather than any shepherds brat
Shold bee a ladye of mine!
When I did drinke the wine,
Rather than any shepherds brat
Shold bee a ladye of mine!
Would I had drank the puddle foule,
When I did drink the ale,
Rather than ever a shepherds brat
Shold tell me such a tale!
When I did drink the ale,
Rather than ever a shepherds brat
Shold tell me such a tale!
75
A shepherds brat even as I was,
You mote have let me bee,
I never had come to the kings faire courte,
To crave any love of thee.
You mote have let me bee,
I never had come to the kings faire courte,
To crave any love of thee.
He sett her on a milk-white steede,
And himself upon a graye;
He hung a bugle about his necke,
And soe they rode awaye.
And himself upon a graye;
He hung a bugle about his necke,
And soe they rode awaye.
But when they came unto the place,
Where marriage-rites were done,
She proved herself a dukes daughtèr,
And he but a squires sonne.
Where marriage-rites were done,
She proved herself a dukes daughtèr,
And he but a squires sonne.
Now marrye me, or not, sir knight,
Your pleasure shall be free:
If you make me ladye of one good towne,
Ile make you lord of three.
Your pleasure shall be free:
If you make me ladye of one good towne,
Ile make you lord of three.
Ah! cursed bee the gold, he sayd,
If thou hadst not been trewe,
I shold have forsaken my sweet love,
And have changd her for a newe.
If thou hadst not been trewe,
I shold have forsaken my sweet love,
And have changd her for a newe.
And now their hearts being linked fast,
They joyned hand in hande:
Thus he had both purse, and person too,
And all at his commande.
They joyned hand in hande:
Thus he had both purse, and person too,
And all at his commande.
This was agreeable to the feudal customs: The Lord had a right to give a wife to his vassals. See Shakespeare's, “All's well, that ends well.”
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XIV. THE SHEPHERD'S ADDRESS TO HIS MUSE.
Good Muse, rocke me aslepe
With some sweete harmony:
This wearie eyes is not to kepe
Thy wary company.
With some sweete harmony:
This wearie eyes is not to kepe
Thy wary company.
Sweete Love, begon a while,
Thou seest my heavines:
Beautie is borne but to beguyle
My harte of happines.
Thou seest my heavines:
Beautie is borne but to beguyle
My harte of happines.
See howe my little flocke,
That lovde to feede on highe,
Doe headlonge tumble downe the rocke,
And in the valley dye.
That lovde to feede on highe,
Doe headlonge tumble downe the rocke,
And in the valley dye.
The bushes and the trees,
That were so freshe and greene,
Doe all their deintie colors leese,
And not a leafe is seene.
That were so freshe and greene,
Doe all their deintie colors leese,
And not a leafe is seene.
77
The blacke birde and the thrushe,
That made the woodes to ringe,
With all the rest, are now at hushe,
And not a note do singe.
That made the woodes to ringe,
With all the rest, are now at hushe,
And not a note do singe.
Swete Philomene, the birde
That hath the heavenly throte,
Doth nowe, alas! not once afforde
Recordinge of a note.
That hath the heavenly throte,
Doth nowe, alas! not once afforde
Recordinge of a note.
The flowers have had a frost,
The herbs have loste their savoure;
‘For haples Corydon’ hath lost
‘His lovelye Phyllis’ favoure.
The herbs have loste their savoure;
‘For haples Corydon’ hath lost
‘His lovelye Phyllis’ favoure.
And therefore, my sweete Muse,
That knowest what helpe is best,
Doe nowe thy heavenlie conninge use
To sett my harte at rest:
That knowest what helpe is best,
Doe nowe thy heavenlie conninge use
To sett my harte at rest:
And in a dreame bewraie
What fate shall be my frende;
Whether my life shall stil decaye,
Or soone my sorrowes ende.
What fate shall be my frende;
Whether my life shall stil decaye,
Or soone my sorrowes ende.
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XV. LORD THOMAS AND FAIR ELLINOR.
[_]
From an ancient copy in black letter, in the Pepys collection, intitled, “A tragical ballad on the unfortunate love of lord Thomas and fair Ellinor, together with the downfall of the browne girl.”—In the same collection may be seen an attempt to modernize this old song, and reduce it to a different measure. A proof of it's popularity.
Lord Thomas he was a bold forrestèr,
And a chaser of the kings deere;
Faire Ellinor was a fine womàn,
And lord Thomas he loved her deare.
And a chaser of the kings deere;
Faire Ellinor was a fine womàn,
And lord Thomas he loved her deare.
Come riddle my riddle, dear mother, he sayd,
And riddle us both as one;
Whether I shall marrye with faire Ellinòr,
And let the browne girl alone?
And riddle us both as one;
Whether I shall marrye with faire Ellinòr,
And let the browne girl alone?
The browne girl she has got houses and lands,
Faire Ellinor she has got none,
And therefore I charge thee on my blessìng,
To bring me the browne girl home.
Faire Ellinor she has got none,
And therefore I charge thee on my blessìng,
To bring me the browne girl home.
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And as it befelle on a high holidaye,
As many there are beside,
Lord Thomas he went to faire Ellinòr,
That should have been his bride.
As many there are beside,
Lord Thomas he went to faire Ellinòr,
That should have been his bride.
And when he came to faire Ellinors bower,
He knocked there at the ring,
And who was so readye as faire Ellinòr,
To lett lord Thomas withinn.
He knocked there at the ring,
And who was so readye as faire Ellinòr,
To lett lord Thomas withinn.
What newes, what newes, lord Thomas, she sayd?
What newes dost thou bring to mee?
I am come to bid thee to my weddìng,
And that is bad newes for thee.
What newes dost thou bring to mee?
I am come to bid thee to my weddìng,
And that is bad newes for thee.
O God forbid, lord Thomas, she sayd,
That such a thing should be done;
I thought to have been thy bride my selfe,
And thou to have been the bridegrome.
That such a thing should be done;
I thought to have been thy bride my selfe,
And thou to have been the bridegrome.
Come riddle my riddle, dear mother, she sayd,
And riddle it all in one;
Whether I shall goe to lord Thomas his wedding,
Or whether shall tarry at home?
And riddle it all in one;
Whether I shall goe to lord Thomas his wedding,
Or whether shall tarry at home?
There are manye that are your friendes, daughtèr,
And manye that are your foe,
Therefore I charge you on my blessing,
To lord Thomas his wedding don't goe.
And manye that are your foe,
Therefore I charge you on my blessing,
To lord Thomas his wedding don't goe.
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There are manye that are my friendes, mothèr;
But if thousands there were my foe,
Betide me life, betide me death,
To lord Thomas his wedding Ile goe.
But if thousands there were my foe,
Betide me life, betide me death,
To lord Thomas his wedding Ile goe.
She cloathed herself in gallant attire,
And her merrye men all in greene,
And as they rid through everye towne,
They took her to be some queene.
And her merrye men all in greene,
And as they rid through everye towne,
They took her to be some queene.
But when she came to lord Thomas his gate,
She knocked there at the ring;
And who was so readye as lord Thomàs,
To lett faire Ellinor in.
She knocked there at the ring;
And who was so readye as lord Thomàs,
To lett faire Ellinor in.
Is this your bride, faire Ellinor sayd?
Methinks she looks wonderous browne;
Thou mightest have had as faire a womàn,
As ever trod on the grounde.
Methinks she looks wonderous browne;
Thou mightest have had as faire a womàn,
As ever trod on the grounde.
Despise her not, fair Ellin, he sayd,
Despise her not unto mee;
For better I love thy little fingèr,
Than all her whole bodèe.
Despise her not unto mee;
For better I love thy little fingèr,
Than all her whole bodèe.
This browne bride had a little penknife,
That was both long and sharpe,
And betwixt the short ribs and the long,
She prickd faire Ellinor's harte.
That was both long and sharpe,
And betwixt the short ribs and the long,
She prickd faire Ellinor's harte.
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O Christ thee save, lord Thomas hee sayd,
Methinks thou lookst wonderous wan;
Thou usedst to look with as fresh a colòur,
As ever the sun shone on.
Methinks thou lookst wonderous wan;
Thou usedst to look with as fresh a colòur,
As ever the sun shone on.
Oh, art thou blind, lord Thomas? she sayd,
Or canst thou not very well see?
Oh! dost thou not see my owne hearts bloode
Run trickling down my knee.
Or canst thou not very well see?
Oh! dost thou not see my owne hearts bloode
Run trickling down my knee.
Lord Thomas he had a sword by his side;
As he walked about the halle,
He cut off his brides head from her shouldèrs,
And threw it against the walle.
As he walked about the halle,
He cut off his brides head from her shouldèrs,
And threw it against the walle.
He set the hilte against the grounde,
And the point against his harte.
There never three lovers together did meete,
That sooner againe did parte.
And the point against his harte.
There never three lovers together did meete,
That sooner againe did parte.
[_]
The reader will find a Scottish song on a similar subject to this, towards the end of this volume, intitled “Lord Thomas and Lady Annet.”
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XVI. CUPID AND CAMPASPE.
[_]
This elegant little sonnet is found in the third act of an old play intitled, “Alexander and Campaspe,” written by John Lilye, a celebrated writer in the time of queen Elizabeth. This play was first printed in 1591: but the song is given from a later edition.
At cardes for kisses; Cupid payd:
He stakes his quiver, bow and arrows,
His mothers doves, and teame of sparrows;
Loses them too; then down he throws
The coral of his lippe, the rose
Growing on's cheek, (but none knows how)
With these, the crystal of his browe,
And then the dimple of his chinne;
All these did my Campaspe winne.
At last he set her both his eyes,
She won, and Cupid blind did rise.
O Love! has she done this to thee?
What shall, alas! become of mee?
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XVII. THE LADY TURNED SERVING-MAN
[_]
—is given from a written copy, containing some improvements, (perhaps modern ones) upon the old popular ballad, intitled, “The famous flower of Serving-men: or the “Lady turned Serving-man.”
You beauteous ladyes, great and small,
I write unto you one and all,
Whereby that you may understand
What I have suffered in the land.
I write unto you one and all,
Whereby that you may understand
What I have suffered in the land.
I was by birth a lady faire,
An ancient barons only heire,
And when my good old father dyed,
Then I became a young knightes bride.
An ancient barons only heire,
And when my good old father dyed,
Then I became a young knightes bride.
And there my love built me a bower,
Bedeck'd with many a fragrant flower;
A braver bower you ne'er did see
Then my true-love did build for mee.
Bedeck'd with many a fragrant flower;
A braver bower you ne'er did see
Then my true-love did build for mee.
And there I livde a ladye gay,
Till fortune wrought our loves decay;
For there came foes so fierce a band,
That soon they over-run the land.
Till fortune wrought our loves decay;
For there came foes so fierce a band,
That soon they over-run the land.
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They came upon us in the night,
And brent my bower, and slew my knight;
And trembling hid in mans array,
I scant with life escap'd away.
And brent my bower, and slew my knight;
And trembling hid in mans array,
I scant with life escap'd away.
In the midst of this extremitìe,
My servants all did from me flee:
Thus was I left myself alone,
With heart more cold than any stone.
My servants all did from me flee:
Thus was I left myself alone,
With heart more cold than any stone.
Yet though my heart was full of care,
Heaven would not suffer me to dispaire,
Wherefore in haste I chang'd my name
From faire Elise, to sweet Williame:
Heaven would not suffer me to dispaire,
Wherefore in haste I chang'd my name
From faire Elise, to sweet Williame:
And therewithall I cut my haire,
Resolv'd my man's attire to weare;
And in my beaver, hose and band,
I travell'd far through many a land.
Resolv'd my man's attire to weare;
And in my beaver, hose and band,
I travell'd far through many a land.
At length all wearied with my toil,
I sate me downe to rest awhile;
My heart it was so fill'd with woe,
That downe my cheeke the teares did flow.
I sate me downe to rest awhile;
My heart it was so fill'd with woe,
That downe my cheeke the teares did flow.
It chanc'd the king of that same place
With all his lords a hunting was,
And seeing me weepe, upon the same
Askt who I was, and whence I came.
With all his lords a hunting was,
And seeing me weepe, upon the same
Askt who I was, and whence I came.
85
Then to his grace I did replye,
I am a poore and friendlesse boye,
Though nobly borne, nowe forc'd to bee
A serving-man of lowe degree.
I am a poore and friendlesse boye,
Though nobly borne, nowe forc'd to bee
A serving-man of lowe degree.
Stand up, faire youth, the king reply'd,
For thee a service I'll provyde;
But tell me first what thou canst do,
Thou shalt be fitted thereunto.
For thee a service I'll provyde;
But tell me first what thou canst do,
Thou shalt be fitted thereunto.
Wilt thou be usher of my hall,
To wait upon my nobles all?
Or wilt be taster of my wine,
To 'tend on me when I shall dine?
To wait upon my nobles all?
Or wilt be taster of my wine,
To 'tend on me when I shall dine?
Or wilt thou be my chamberlaine,
About my person to remaine?
Or wilt thou be one of my guard,
And I will give thee great reward?
About my person to remaine?
Or wilt thou be one of my guard,
And I will give thee great reward?
Chuse, gentle, youth, said he, thy place.
Then I reply'd, if it please your grace,
To shew such favour unto mee,
Your chamberlaine I faine would bee.
Then I reply'd, if it please your grace,
To shew such favour unto mee,
Your chamberlaine I faine would bee.
The king then smiling gave consent,
And straitwaye to his court I went;
Where I behavde so faithfullìe,
That hee great favour showd to mee.
And straitwaye to his court I went;
Where I behavde so faithfullìe,
That hee great favour showd to mee.
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Now marke what fortune did provide;
The king he would a hunting ride
With all his lords and noble traine,
Sweet William must at home remaine.
The king he would a hunting ride
With all his lords and noble traine,
Sweet William must at home remaine.
Thus being left alone behind,
My former state came in my mind,
I wept to see my mans array,
No longer now a ladye gay.
My former state came in my mind,
I wept to see my mans array,
No longer now a ladye gay.
And meeting with a ladyes vest,
Within the same myself I drest
With silken robes, and jewels rare,
I deckt me as a ladye faire.
Within the same myself I drest
With silken robes, and jewels rare,
I deckt me as a ladye faire.
And taking up a lute straitwaye,
Upon the same I strove to play,
And sweetly to the fame did sing,
As made both hall and chamber ring.
Upon the same I strove to play,
And sweetly to the fame did sing,
As made both hall and chamber ring.
“My father was as brave a lord,
“As ever Europe did afford;
“My mother was a lady bright;
“My husband was a valiant knight:
“As ever Europe did afford;
“My mother was a lady bright;
“My husband was a valiant knight:
“And I myself a ladye gay,
“Bedeckt with gorgeous rich array;
“The happiest lady in the land,
“Had not more pleasure at command.
“Bedeckt with gorgeous rich array;
“The happiest lady in the land,
“Had not more pleasure at command.
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“I had my musicke every day
“Harmonious lessons for to play;
“I had my virgins fair and free,
“Continually to wait on mee.
“Harmonious lessons for to play;
“I had my virgins fair and free,
“Continually to wait on mee.
“But now, alas! my husband's dead,
“And all my friends are from me fled,
“My former days are past and gone,
“And I am now a serving-man.”
“And all my friends are from me fled,
“My former days are past and gone,
“And I am now a serving-man.”
And fetching many a tender sigh,
As thinking no one then was nigh,
In pensive mood I laid me lowe,
My heart was full, the tears did flowe.
As thinking no one then was nigh,
In pensive mood I laid me lowe,
My heart was full, the tears did flowe.
The king, who had a huntinge gone,
Grewe weary of his sport anone,
And leaving all his gallant traine,
Turn'd on the sudden home againe:
Grewe weary of his sport anone,
And leaving all his gallant traine,
Turn'd on the sudden home againe:
And when he reach'd his statelye tower,
Hearing one sing within his bower,
He stopt to listen, and to see
Who sung there so melodiouslìe.
Hearing one sing within his bower,
He stopt to listen, and to see
Who sung there so melodiouslìe.
Thus heard he everye word I sed,
And sawe the pearlye teares I shed,
And found to his amazement there,
Sweete William was a ladye faire.
And sawe the pearlye teares I shed,
And found to his amazement there,
Sweete William was a ladye faire.
88
Then stepping in, Faire ladye, rise,
And dry, said he, those lovelye eyes,
For I have heard thy mournful tale,
The which shall turne to thy availe.
And dry, said he, those lovelye eyes,
For I have heard thy mournful tale,
The which shall turne to thy availe.
A crimson dye my face orespred,
I blusht for shame, and hung my head,
To find my sex and story knowne,
When as I thought I was alone.
I blusht for shame, and hung my head,
To find my sex and story knowne,
When as I thought I was alone.
But to be briefe, his royall grace
Grewe soe enamour'd of my face,
The richest gifts he proffered mee,
His mistress if that I would bee.
Grewe soe enamour'd of my face,
The richest gifts he proffered mee,
His mistress if that I would bee.
Ah! no, my liege, I firmlye sayd,
I'll rather in my grave be layd,
And though your grace hath won my heart,
I ne'er will act soe base a part.
I'll rather in my grave be layd,
And though your grace hath won my heart,
I ne'er will act soe base a part.
Faire ladye, pardon me, sayde hee,
Thy virtue shall rewarded bee,
And since it is soe fairly tryde
Thou shalt become my royal bride.
Thy virtue shall rewarded bee,
And since it is soe fairly tryde
Thou shalt become my royal bride.
Then strait to end his amorous strife,
He tooke sweet William to his wife:
The like before was never seene,
A serving-man became a queene.
He tooke sweet William to his wife:
The like before was never seene,
A serving-man became a queene.
89
XVIII. GIL MORRICE.
A Scottish Ballad.
[_]
The following piece has lately run thro' two editions in Scotland: the second was printed at Glasgow in 1755. 8 vo. Prefixed to them both is an advertisement, setting forth that the preservation of this poem was owing “to a lady, who favoured the printers with a copy, as it was carefully collected from the mouths of old women and nurses;” And any reader that can render it more correct or complete,” is desired to oblige the public with such improvements. In consequence of this advertisement sixteen additional verses have been produced and handed about in manuscript, which are here inserted in their proper places: (these are from ver. 109. to ver. 121. and from ver. 124. to ver. 129. and are perhaps after all only an ingenious interpolation.)
As this poem lays claim to a pretty high antiquity, we have assigned it a place among our early pieces: though, after all, there is reason to believe it has received very considerable modern improvements: for in the Editor's ancient MS collection is a very old imperfect copy of the same ballad: wherein though the leading features of the story are the same, yet the colouring here is so much improved and heightened, and so many additional strokes are thrown in, that it is evident the whole has undergone a revisal.
N. B. The Editor's MS instead of “lord Barnard”, has “John Stewart”; and instead of “Gil Morrice”, Child Maurice, which last is probably the original title.
See above p. 54.
Gil Morrice was an erlès son,
His name it waxed wide;
It was nae for his great richès,
Nor zet his mickle pride;
Bot it was for a lady gay,
That livd on Carron side.
His name it waxed wide;
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Nor zet his mickle pride;
Bot it was for a lady gay,
That livd on Carron side.
Quhair sall I get a bonny boy,
That will win hose and shoen;
That will gae to lord Barnards ha',
And bid his lady cum?
And ze maun rin my errand Willie;
And ze may rin wi' pride;
Quhen other boys gae on their foot,
On horse-back ze sall ride.
That will win hose and shoen;
That will gae to lord Barnards ha',
And bid his lady cum?
And ze maun rin my errand Willie;
And ze may rin wi' pride;
Quhen other boys gae on their foot,
On horse-back ze sall ride.
O no! Oh no! my master dear!
I dare nae for my life;
I'll no gae to the bauld baròns,
For to triest furth his wife.
My bird Willie, my boy Willie;
My dear Willie, he sayd:
How can ze strive against the stream?
For I shall be obeyd.
I dare nae for my life;
I'll no gae to the bauld baròns,
For to triest furth his wife.
My bird Willie, my boy Willie;
My dear Willie, he sayd:
How can ze strive against the stream?
For I shall be obeyd.
Bot, O my master dear! he cryd,
In grene wod ze're zour lain;
Gi owre sic thochts, I walde ze rede,
For fear ze should be tain.
Haste, haste, I say, gae to the ha',
Bid hir cum here wi' speid:
If ze refuse my heigh command,
Ill gar zour body bleid.
In grene wod ze're zour lain;
Gi owre sic thochts, I walde ze rede,
For fear ze should be tain.
Haste, haste, I say, gae to the ha',
Bid hir cum here wi' speid:
91
Ill gar zour body bleid.
Gae bid hir take this gay mantèl,
'Tis a' gowd bot the hem;
Bid hir cum to the gude grene wode,
And bring nane bot hir lain:
And there it is, a silken sarke,
Hir ain hand sewd the sleive;
And bid hir cum to Gill Morice,
Speir nae bauld barons leave.
'Tis a' gowd bot the hem;
Bid hir cum to the gude grene wode,
And bring nane bot hir lain:
And there it is, a silken sarke,
Hir ain hand sewd the sleive;
And bid hir cum to Gill Morice,
Speir nae bauld barons leave.
Yes, I will gae zour black errand,
Though it be to zour cost;
Sen ze by me will nae be warn'd,
In it ze sall find frost.
The baron he is a man of might,
He neir could bide to taunt,
As ze will see before its nicht,
How sma' ze hae to vaunt.
Though it be to zour cost;
Sen ze by me will nae be warn'd,
In it ze sall find frost.
The baron he is a man of might,
He neir could bide to taunt,
As ze will see before its nicht,
How sma' ze hae to vaunt.
And sen I maun zour errand rin
Sae sair against my will,
I'se mak a vow and keip it trow,
It sall be done for ill.
And quhen he came to broken brigue,
He bent his bow and swam;
And quhen came to grass growìng,
Set down his feet and ran.
Sae sair against my will,
I'se mak a vow and keip it trow,
It sall be done for ill.
And quhen he came to broken brigue,
He bent his bow and swam;
And quhen came to grass growìng,
Set down his feet and ran.
92
And quhen he came to Barnards ha',
Would neither chap nor ca':
Bot set his bent bow to his breist,
And lichtly lap the wa'.
He wauld nae tell the man his errand,
Though he stude at the gait;
Bot straiht into the ha' he cam,
Quhair they were set at meit.
Would neither chap nor ca':
Bot set his bent bow to his breist,
And lichtly lap the wa'.
He wauld nae tell the man his errand,
Though he stude at the gait;
Bot straiht into the ha' he cam,
Quhair they were set at meit.
Hail! hail! my gentle sire and dame!
My message winna waite;
Dame, ze maun to the gude grene wod
Before that it be late.
Ze're bidden tak this gay mantèl,
Tis a' gowd bot the hem:
Zou maun gae to the gude grene wode,
Ev'n by your sel alane.
My message winna waite;
Dame, ze maun to the gude grene wod
Before that it be late.
Ze're bidden tak this gay mantèl,
Tis a' gowd bot the hem:
Zou maun gae to the gude grene wode,
Ev'n by your sel alane.
And there it is, a silken sarke,
Your ain hand sewd the sleive;
Ze maun gae speik to Gill Morìce;
Speir nae bauld barons leave.
The lady stamped wi' hir foot,
And winked wi' hir ee;
Bot a' that she coud say or do,
Forbidden he wad nae bee.
Your ain hand sewd the sleive;
Ze maun gae speik to Gill Morìce;
Speir nae bauld barons leave.
The lady stamped wi' hir foot,
And winked wi' hir ee;
Bot a' that she coud say or do,
Forbidden he wad nae bee.
Its surely to my bow'r-womàn;
It neir could be to me.
I brocht it to lord Barnards lady;
I trow that ze be she.
Then up and spack the wylie nurse,
(The bairn upon hir knee)
If it be cum frae Gill Morìce,
It's deir welcum to mee.
It neir could be to me.
93
I trow that ze be she.
Then up and spack the wylie nurse,
(The bairn upon hir knee)
If it be cum frae Gill Morìce,
It's deir welcum to mee.
Ze leid, ze leid, ze filthy nurse,
Sae loud's I heire ze lee;
I brocht it to lord Barnards lady;
I trow ze be nae shee.
Then up and spack the bauld baròn,
An angry man was hee;
He's tain the table wi' his foot,
Sae has he wi' his knee;
Till siller cup and ezar dish
In flinders he gard flee.
Sae loud's I heire ze lee;
I brocht it to lord Barnards lady;
I trow ze be nae shee.
Then up and spack the bauld baròn,
An angry man was hee;
He's tain the table wi' his foot,
Sae has he wi' his knee;
Till siller cup and ezar dish
In flinders he gard flee.
Gae bring a robe of zour clidìng,
That hings upon the pin;
And I'll gae to the gude grene wode,
And speik wi' zour lemmàn.
O bide at hame, now lord Barnàrd,
I warde ze bide at hame;
Neir wyte a man for violence,
That neir wate ze wi' nane.
That hings upon the pin;
And I'll gae to the gude grene wode,
And speik wi' zour lemmàn.
O bide at hame, now lord Barnàrd,
I warde ze bide at hame;
Neir wyte a man for violence,
That neir wate ze wi' nane.
94
Gil Morice sate in gude grene wode,
He whistled and he sang:
O what mean a' the folk comìng,
My mother tarries lang.
His hair was like the threeds of gold,
Drawne frae Minervas loome:
His lipps like roses drapping dew,
His breath was a' perfume.
He whistled and he sang:
O what mean a' the folk comìng,
My mother tarries lang.
His hair was like the threeds of gold,
Drawne frae Minervas loome:
His lipps like roses drapping dew,
His breath was a' perfume.
His brow was like the mountain snae
Gilt by the morning beam:
His cheeks like living roses glow:
His een like azure stream.
The boy was clad in robes of grene,
Sweete as the infant spring:
And like the mavis on the bush,
He gart the vallies ring.
Gilt by the morning beam:
His cheeks like living roses glow:
His een like azure stream.
The boy was clad in robes of grene,
Sweete as the infant spring:
And like the mavis on the bush,
He gart the vallies ring.
The baron came to the grene wode,
Wi' mickle dule and care,
And there he first spied Gill Morìce
Kameing his zellow hair:
That sweetly wavd around his face,
That face beyond compare:
He sang sae sweet it might dispel,
A' rage but fell dispair.
Wi' mickle dule and care,
And there he first spied Gill Morìce
Kameing his zellow hair:
That sweetly wavd around his face,
That face beyond compare:
He sang sae sweet it might dispel,
A' rage but fell dispair.
95
Nae wonder, nae wonder, Gill Morìce,
My lady loed thee weel,
The fairest part of my body
Is blacker than thy heel.
Zet neir the less now, Gill Morìce,
For a' thy great bewty,
Ze's rew the day ze eir was born;
That head sall gae wi' me.
My lady loed thee weel,
The fairest part of my body
Is blacker than thy heel.
Zet neir the less now, Gill Morìce,
For a' thy great bewty,
Ze's rew the day ze eir was born;
That head sall gae wi' me.
Now he has drawn his trusty brand,
And slaited on the strae;
And thro' Gill Morice' fair body
He's gar cauld iron gae.
And he has tain Gill Morice' head
And set it on a speir:
The meanest man in a' his train
Has gotten that head to bear.
And slaited on the strae;
And thro' Gill Morice' fair body
He's gar cauld iron gae.
And he has tain Gill Morice' head
And set it on a speir:
The meanest man in a' his train
Has gotten that head to bear.
And he has tain Gill Morice up,
Laid him across his steid,
And brocht him to his painted bowr
And laid him on a bed.
The lady sat on castil wa',
Beheld baith dale and doun;
And there she saw Gill Morice' head
Cum trailing to the toun.
Laid him across his steid,
And brocht him to his painted bowr
And laid him on a bed.
The lady sat on castil wa',
Beheld baith dale and doun;
And there she saw Gill Morice' head
Cum trailing to the toun.
Far better I loe that bluidy head,
Bot and that zellow hair,
Than lord Barnard, and a' his lands,
As they lig here and thair.
And she has tain her Gill Morice,
And kissd baith mouth and chin:
I was once as fow of Gill Morice,
As the hip is o' the stean.
Bot and that zellow hair,
96
As they lig here and thair.
And she has tain her Gill Morice,
And kissd baith mouth and chin:
I was once as fow of Gill Morice,
As the hip is o' the stean.
I got ze in my father's house,
Wi' mickle sin and shame;
I brocht thee up in gude grene wode,
Under the heavy rain:
Oft have I by thy cradle sitten,
And fondly seen thee sleip;
Bot now I gae about thy grave,
The saut tears for to weip.
Wi' mickle sin and shame;
I brocht thee up in gude grene wode,
Under the heavy rain:
Oft have I by thy cradle sitten,
And fondly seen thee sleip;
Bot now I gae about thy grave,
The saut tears for to weip.
And syne she kissd his bluidy cheik,
And syne his bluidy chin:
O better I loe my Gill Morice
Than a' my kith and kin!
Away, away, ze ill womàn,
And an il deith mait ze dee:
Gin I had kend he'd bin zour son,
He'd neir bin slain for mee.
And syne his bluidy chin:
O better I loe my Gill Morice
Than a' my kith and kin!
Away, away, ze ill womàn,
And an il deith mait ze dee:
Gin I had kend he'd bin zour son,
He'd neir bin slain for mee.
Obraid me not, my lord Barnard!
Obraid me not for shame!
Wi that saim speir O pierce my heart!
And put me out o' pain.
Since nothing bot Gill Morice head
Thy jelous rage could quell,
Let that saim hand now tak hir life,
That neir to thee did ill.
Obraid me not for shame!
Wi that saim speir O pierce my heart!
And put me out o' pain.
97
Thy jelous rage could quell,
Let that saim hand now tak hir life,
That neir to thee did ill.
To me nae after days nor nichts
Will eir be saft or kind;
I'll fill the air with heavy sighs,
And greet till I am blind.
Enouch of blood by me's bin spilt,
Seek not zour death frae mee;
I rather lourd it had been my sel
Than eather him or thee.
Will eir be saft or kind;
I'll fill the air with heavy sighs,
And greet till I am blind.
Enouch of blood by me's bin spilt,
Seek not zour death frae mee;
I rather lourd it had been my sel
Than eather him or thee.
With waefo wae I hear zour plaint;
Sair, sair I rew the deid,
That eir this cursed hand of mine
Had gard his body bleid.
Dry up zour tears, my winsom dame,
Ze neir can heal the wound;
Ze see his head upon the speir,
His heart's blude on the ground.
Sair, sair I rew the deid,
That eir this cursed hand of mine
Had gard his body bleid.
Dry up zour tears, my winsom dame,
Ze neir can heal the wound;
Ze see his head upon the speir,
His heart's blude on the ground.
I curse the hand that did the deid,
The heart that thocht the ill;
The feet that bore me wi' sik speid,
The comely zouth to kill.
I'll ay lament for Gill Morice,
As gin he were my ain;
I'll neir forget the dreiry day
On which the zouth was slain.
The heart that thocht the ill;
The feet that bore me wi' sik speid,
The comely zouth to kill.
I'll ay lament for Gill Morice,
As gin he were my ain;
98
On which the zouth was slain.
The foregoing ballad is said to have furnished the plot to the tragedy of Douglas.
It may be proper to mention that other copies read ver. 110. thus
“Shot frae the golden sun.”And ver. 116. as follows
“His een like azure sheene.”THE END OF THE FIRST BOOK.
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