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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 | Reliques of Ancient English Poetry |  |
XI. LITTLE MUSGRAVE AND LADY BARNARD.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
| Reliques of Ancient English Poetry | |