Reliques of Ancient English Poetry :: :: University of Virginia Library

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

Percy, Thomas (1729-1811)

[epigraph]

VOLUME THE FIRST.

[dedication]

[epigraph]

ANCIENT SONGS AND BALLADS, &c.

BOOK I.

I THE ANCIENT BALLAD OF CHEVY-CHASE.

II.

II. THE BATTLE OF OTTERBOURNE.

III.

III. THE JEW'S DAUGHTER,

IV.

IV. SIR CAULINE.

V. EDWARD, EDWARD.

VI.

VI. KING ESTMERE.

VII.

VII. SIR PATRICK SPENCE,

VIII.

VIII. ROBIN HOOD AND GUY OF GISBORNE.

IX.

IX. AN ELEGY ON HENRY FOURTH EARL OF NORTHUMBERLAND.

X. THE TOWER OF DOCTRINE.

XI.

XI. THE CHILD OF ELLE

XII.

XII. ADAM O' GORDON,

II.

BOOK II.

I. ADAM BELL, CLYM OF THE CLOUGH, AND WILLIAM OF CLOUDESLY

Part the Third.

II.

II. THE AGED LOVER RENOUNCETH LOVE.

III.

III. JEPHTHAH JUDGE OF ISRAEL.

IV.

IV. A SONG TO THE LUTE IN MUSICKE.

V. KING COPHETUA AND THE BEGGAR-MAID

VI.

VI. TAKE THY OLD CLOAK ABOUT THEE

VII.

VII. WILLOW, WILLOW, WILLOW.

VIII.

VIII. SIR LANCELOT DU LAKE.

IX.

IX. CORYDON'S FAREWELL TO PHILLIS

X. GERNUTUS THE JEW OF VENICE.

XI.

XI. THE PASSIONATE SHEPHERD TO HIS LOVE.

XII.

XII. TITUS ANDRONICUS'S COMPLAINT.

XIII.

XIII. TAKE THOSE LIPS AWAY.

XIV.

XIV. KING LEIR AND HIS THREE DAUGHTERS.

XV.

XV. YOUTH AND AGE

XVI.

XVI. THE FROLICKSOME DUKE, OR THE TINKER's GOOD FORTUNE.

XVII.

XVII. THE FRIAR OF ORDERS GRAY.

III.

BOOK III.

I. THE MORE MODERN BALLAD OF CHEVY CHACE.

II.

II. DEATH'S FINAL CONQUEST.

III.

III. THE RISING IN THE NORTH.

IV.

IV. NORTHUMBERLAND BETRAYED BY DOUGLAS.

V. MY MIND TO ME A KINGDOM IS.

VI.

VI. THE PATIENT COUNTESS.

VII.

VII. THE GOLDEN MEAN.

VIII.

VIII. DOWSABELL.

IX.

IX. THE FAREWELL TO LOVE

X. ULYSSES AND THE SYREN

XI.

XI. CUPID'S PASTIME.

XII.

XII. THE CHARACTER OF A HAPPY LIFE.

XIII.

XIII. GILDEROY

XIV.

XIV. WINIFREDA.

XV.

XV. THE WITCH OF WOKEY

XVI.

XVI. BRYAN AND PEREENE,

XVII.

XVII. GENTLE RIVER, GENTLE RIVER.

XVIII.

XVIII. ALCANZOR AND ZAYDA,

VOLUME THE SECOND.

ANCIENT SONGS AND BALLADS, &c.

BOOK I.

I. RICHARD OF ALMAIGNE

[note]

II.

II. ON THE DEATH OF K. EDWARD THE FIRST.

III.

III. AN ORIGINAL BALLAD BY CHAUCER.

IV.

IV. THE TURNAMENT OF TOTTENHAM:

V. FOR THE VICTORY AT AGINCOURT.

VI.

VI. THE NOT-BROWNE MAYD.

VII.

VII. A BALET BY THE EARL RIVERS.

VIII.

VIII. CUPID'S ASSAULT: BY LORD VAUX.

IX.

IX. SIR ALDINGAR.

X. THE GABERLUNZIE MAN.

XI.

XI. ON THOMAS LORD CROMWELL.

XII.

XII. HARPALUS.

XIII.

XIII. ROBIN AND MAKYNE.

XIV.

XIV. GENTLE HERDSMAN, TELL TO ME.

XV.

XV. K. EDWARD IV. AND TANNER OF TAMWORTH

XVI.

XVI. AS YE CAME FROM THE HOLY LAND.

XVII.

XVII. HARDYKNUTE.

II.

BOOK II.

I. A BALLAD OF LUTHER, THE POPE, A CARDINAL, AND A HUSBANDMAN.

II.

II. JOHN ANDERSON MY JO.

III.

III. LITTLE JOHN NOBODY.

IV.

IV. Q. ELIZABETH'S VERSES, WHILE PRISONER AT WOODSTOCK,

V. THE HEIR OF LINNE.

VI.

VI. GASCOIGNE'S PRAISE OF THE FAIR BRIDGES, AFTERWARDS LADY SANDES,

VII.

VII. FAIR ROSAMOND.

VIII.

VIII. QUEEN ELEANOR'S CONFESSION.

IX.

IX. THE STURDY ROCK.

X. THE BEGGAR'S DAUGHTER OF BEDNALL-GREEN.

XI.

XI. FANCY AND DESIRE.

XII.

XII. SIR ANDREW BARTON.

XIII.

XIII. LADY ANNE BOTHWELL'S LAMENT.

XIV.

XIV. THE MURDER OF THE KING OF SCOTS.

XV.

XV. A SONNET BY Q. ELIZABETH.

XVI.

XVI. KING OF SCOTS AND ANDREW BROWNE.

XVII.

XVII. THE BONNY EARL OF MURRAY.

XVIII.

XVIII. YOUNG WATERS.

XIX.

XIX. MARY AMBREE.

XX.

XX. BRAVE LORD WILLOUGHBY.

XXI.

XXI. VICTORIOUS MEN OF EARTH.

XXII.

XXII. THE WINNING OF CALES.

XXIII.

XXIII. THE SPANISH LADY'S LOVE.

XXIV.

XXIV. ARGENTILE AND CURAN

XXV.

XXV. CORIN'S FATE.

XXVI.

XXVI. JANE SHORE.

XXVII.

XXVII. CORYDON'S DOLEFUL KNELL.

III.

BOOK III.

I. THE COMPLAINT OF CONSCIENCE.

II.

II. PLAIN TRUTH, AND BLIND IGNORANCE.

III.

III. THE WANDERING JEW.

IV.

IV. THE LYE,

V. VERSES BY KING JAMES I.

VI.

VI. K. JOHN AND THE ABBOT OF CANTERBURY.

VII.

VII. YOU MEANER BEAUTIES.

VIII.

VIII. THE OLD AND YOUNG COURTIER.

IX.

IX. SIR JOHN SUCKLING'S CAMPAIGNE.

X. TO ALTHEA FROM PRISON.

XI.

XI. THE DOWNFALL OF CHARING-CROSS.

XII.

XII. LOYALTY CONFINED.

XIII.

XIII. VERSES BY K. CHARLES I.

XIV.

XIV. THE SALE OF REBELLIOUS HOUSHOLD-STUFF

XV.

XV. THE BAFFLED KNIGHT, OR LADY'S POLICY.

XVI.

XVI. WHY SO PALE?

XVII.

XVII. OLD TOM OF BEDLAM.

XVIII.

XVIII. THE DISTRACTED PURITAN,

XIX.

XIX. THE LUNATIC LOVER,

XX.

XX. THE LADY DISTRACTED WITH LOVE,

XXI.

XXI. THE DISTRACTED LOVER,

XXII.

XXII. THE FRANTIC LADY,

XXIII.

XXIII. LILLI BURLERO.

XXIV.

XXIV. THE BRAES OF YARROW,

XXV.

XXV. ADMIRAL HOSIER'S GHOST

XXVI.

XXVI. JEMMY DAWSON.

VOLUME THE THIRD.

ANCIENT SONGS AND BALLADS, &c.

BOOK I. BALLADS ON KING ARTHUR, &c.

I. THE BOY AND THE MANTLE.

II.

II. THE MARRIAGE OF SIR GAWAINE

III.

III. KING RYENCE'S CHALLENGE.

IV.

IV. KING ARTHUR's DEATH.

V. THE LEGEND OF KING ARTHUR.

VI.

VI. A DYTTIE TO HEY DOWNE.

VII.

VII. GLASGERION.

VIII.

VIII. OLD SIR ROBIN OF PORTINGALE.

IX.

IX. CHILD WATERS.

X. PHILLIDA AND CORYDON.

XI.

XI. LITTLE MUSGRAVE AND LADY BARNARD.

XII.

XII. THE EW-BUGHTS MARION.

XIII.

XIII. THE KNIGHT, AND SHEPHERD'S DAUGHTER.

XIV.

XIV. THE SHEPHERD'S ADDRESS TO HIS MUSE.

XV.

XV. LORD THOMAS AND FAIR ELLINOR.

XVI.

XVI. CUPID AND CAMPASPE.

XVII.

XVII. THE LADY TURNED SERVING-MAN

XVIII.

XVIII. GIL MORRICE.

II.

BOOK II.

I. THE LEGEND OF SIR GUY

II.

II. GUY AND AMARANT.

III.

III. THE AULD GOOD-MAN.

IV.

IV. FAIR MARGARET AND SWEET WILLIAM.

V. BARBARA ALLEN'S CRUELTY.

VI.

VI. SWEET WILLIAM'S GHOST.

VII.

VII. SIR JOHN GREHME AND BARBARA ALLAN.

VIII.

VIII. THE BAILIFF'S DAUGHTER OF ISLINGTON.

IX.

IX. THE WILLOW-TREE.

X. THE LADY'S FALL

XI.

XI. WALY WALY, LOVE BE BONNY.

XII.

XII. THE WANTON WIFE OF BATH.

XIII.

XIII. DULCINA.

XIV.

XIV. THE LADY ISABELLA'S TRAGEDY.

XV.

XV. A HUE AND CRY AFTER CUPID.

XVI.

XVI. THE KING OF FRANCE'S DAUGHTER.

XVII.

XVII. THE SWEET NEGLECT.

XVIII.

XVIII. THE CHILDREN IN THE WOOD.

XIX.

XIX. A LOVER OF LATE.

XX.

XX. THE KING AND MILLER OF MANSFIELD.

XXI.

XXI. THE SHEPHERD'S RESOLUTION.

XXII.

XXII. THE WANDERING PRINCE OF TROY.

XXIII.

XXIII. THE WITCHES' SONG

XXIV.

XXIV. ROBIN GOOD-FELLOW

XXV.

XXV. THE FAIRY QUEEN.

XXVI.

XXVI. THE FAIRIES FAREWELL.

III.

BOOK III.

I. THE BIRTH OF ST. GEORGE.

II.

II. ST. GEORGE AND THE DRAGON.

III.

III. LOVE WILL FIND OUT THE WAY.

IV.

IV. LORD THOMAS AND FAIR ANNET,

V. UNFADING BEAUTY.

VI.

VI. GEORGE BARNWELL.

VII.

VII. THE STEDFAST SHEPHERD.

VIII.

VIII. THE SPANISH VIRGIN, OR EFFECTS OF JEALOUSY.

IX.

IX. JEALOUSY TYRANT OF THE MIND.

X. CONSTANT PENELOPE.

XI.

XI. TO LUCASTA, ON GOING TO THE WARS.

XII.

XII. VALENTINE AND URSINE.

XIII.

XIII. THE DRAGON OF WANTLEY.

XIV.

XIV. ST. GEORGE FOR ENGLAND.

XV.

XV. ST. GEORGE FOR ENGLAND,

XVI.

XVI. LUCY AND COLIN

XVII.

XVII. MARGARET's GHOST.

XVIII.

XVIII. THE BOY AND THE MANTLE,

Collapse All | Expand All expand section

3. Part the Third.

As they sat in Englyshe wood,
Under the green-wode tre,
They thought they herd a woman wepe,
But her they mought not se.

Sore then syghed the fayre Alyce:
That ever I sawe thys day!
For nowe is my dere husband slayne:
Alas! and wel-a-way!

Myght I have spoke wyth hys dere brethren,
Or with eyther of them twayne,
To shew to them what him befell,
My hart were out of payne.

Cloudeslè walked a lytle beside,
Lookt under the grene wood linde,
He was ware of his wife, and chyldren three,
Full wo in harte and mynde.

161

Welcome, wyfe, then sayde Wyllyam,
Under this trusti tre:
I wende yesterday, by swete saynt John,
Thou shulde me never have se.

“Now well is me that ye be here,
My harte is out of wo.”
Dame, he sayde, be mery and glad,
And thanke my brethren two.

Herof to speake, said Adam Bell,
I-wis it is no bote:
The meate, that we must supp withall,
It runneth yet fast on fote.

Then went they downe into a launde,
These noble archares thre;
Eche of them slew a hart of greece,
The best that they cold se.

Have here the best, Alyce, my wyfe,
Sayde Wyllyam of Cloudeslye;
By cause ye so bouldly stode by me
When I was slayne full nye.

Then went they to suppère
Wyth suche meate as they had;
And thanked God of ther fortune:
They were both mery and glad.

162

And when they had supped well,
Certayne wythouten lease,
Cloudeslè sayd, We wyll to our kyng,
To get us a charter of peace.

Alyce shal be at our sojournyng
In a nunnery here besyde;
My tow sonnes shall wyth her go,
And there they shall abyde.

Myne eldest son shall go wyth me;
For hym have I no care:
And he shall breng you worde agayn,
How that we do fare.

Thus be these yemen to London gone,
As fast as they myght he,
Tyll they came to the kynge's pallàce,
Where they woulde nedes be.

And whan they came to the kyngès courte,
Unto the pallace gate,
Of no man wold they aske no leave,
But boldly went in therat.

They preced prestly into the hall,
Of no man had they dreade:
The porter came after, and dyd them call,
And with them gan to chyde.

163

The usher sayde, Yemen, what would ye have?
I pray you tell to me:
You myght thus make offycers shent:
Good syrs, of whence be ye?

Syr, we be out-lawes of the forest
Certayne withouten lease;
And hether we be come to our kyng
To get us a charter of peace.

And whan they came before the kyng,
As it was the lawe of the lande,
The kneled downe without lettyng,
And eche held up his hand.

The sayed, Lord, we beseche the here,
That ye wyll graunt us grace;
For we have slayne your fat falow dere
In many a sondry place.

What be your nams, then said our king,
Anone that you tell me?
They sayd, Adam Bell, Clim of the Clough,
And Wyllyam of Cloudeslè.

Be ye those theves, then sayd our kyng,
That men have tolde of to me?
Here to God I make an avowe,
Ye shal be hanged all thre.

164

Ye shal be dead withoute mercy,
As I am kynge of this lande.
He commandeth his officers every one,
Fast on them to lay hande.

There they toke these good yemen,
And arested them all thre:
So may I thryve, sayd Adam Bell,
Thys game lyketh not me.

But, good lorde, we beseche you now,
That yee graunt us grace,
Insomuche as frelè to you we comen,
As frelè fro you to passe,

With such weapons, as we have here,
Tyll we be out of your place;
And yf we lyve this hundreth yere,
We wyll aske you no grace.

Ye speake proudly, sayd the kynge;
Ye shall be hanged all thre.
That were great pitye, then sayd the quene,
If any grace myght be.

My lorde, whan I came fyrst into this lande
To be your wedded wyfe,
The fyrst boone that I wold aske,
Ye would graunt it me belyfe:

165

And I never asked none tyll now;
Then, good lorde, graunt it me.
Now aske it, madam, sayd the kynge,
And graunted it shall be.

Then, good my lord, I you beseche,
These yemen graunt ye me.
Madame, ye myght have asked a boone,
That shuld have been worth them all three.

Ye myght have asked towres, and townes,
Parkes and forestes plentè.
But none soe pleasant to my pay, shee sayd;
Nor none so lefe to me.

Madame, sith it is your desyre,
Your askyng graunted shal be;
But I had lever have geven you
Good market townes thre.

The quene was a glad woman,
And sayde, Lord, gramarcyè
I dare undertake for them,
That true men they shal be.

But good my lord, speke som mery word,
That comfort they may se.
I graunt you grace, then sayd our king,
Washe, felos, and to meate go ye.

166

They had not setten but a whyle
Certayne without lesynge,
There came messengers out of the north
With letters to our kyng.

And whan the came before the kynge,
They knelt downe on theyr kne;
Sayd, Lord, your officers grete you well,
Of Carleile in the north cuntrè.

How fareth my justice, sayd the kyng,
And my sherife also?
Syr, they be slayne without leasynge,
And many an officer mo.

Who hath them slayne, sayd the kyng;
Anone thou tell to me?
“Adam Bell, and Clime of the Clough,
And Wyllyam of Cloudeslè.”

Alas for rewth! then sayd our kynge:
My hart is wonderous fore;
I had lever than a thousande pounde,
I had knowne of thys before:

For I have graunted them grace,
And that forthynketh me:
But had I knowne all thys before,
They had been hanged all thre.

167

The kyng hee opened the letter anone,
Himselfe he red it tho,
And founde how these outlawes had slain
Thre hundred men and mo:

Fyrst the justice, and the sheryfe,
And the mayre of Carleile towne;
Of all the constables and catchipolles
Alyve were scant left one:

The baylyes, and the bedyls both,
And the sergeaunte of the law,
And forty fosters of the fe,
These outlawes had yslaw:

And broke his parks, and slayne his dere;
Of all they chose the best;
So perelous out-lawes, as they were,
Walked not by easte nor west.

When the kynge this letter had red,
In harte he syghed sore:
Take up the tables anone he bad,
For I may eat no more.

The kyng called hys best archars
To the buttes wyth hym to go:
I wyll se these felowes shote, he sayd,
In the north have wrought this wo.

168

The kynges bowmen busket them blyve,
And the quenes archers also;
So dyd these thre wyghtye yemen;
With them they thought to go.

There twyse, or thryse they shote about
For to assay theyr hande;
There was no shote these yemen shot,
That any prycke myght stand.

Then spake Wyllyam of Cloudeslè;
By him that for me dyed,
I hold hym never no good archar,
That shoteth at buttes so wyde.

“At what a butte now wold ye shote,
I pray thee tell to me?”
At suche a but, syr, he sayd,
As men use in my countrè.

Wyllyam wente into a fyeld,
With his two brethèrene:
There they set up two hasell roddes
Full twenty score betwene.

I hold him an archar, said Cloudeslè,
That yonder wande cleveth in two.

169

Here is none suche, sayd the kyng,
Nor none that can so do.

I shall assaye, syr, sayd Cloudeslè,
Or that I farther go.
Cloudesly with a bearyng arowe
Clave the wand in two.

Thou art the best archer, then said the king,
For sothe that ever I se.
And yet for your love, sayd Wyllyam,
I wyll do more maystery.

I have a sonne is seven yere olde,
He is to me full deare;
I wyll hym tye to a stake;
All shall se, that be here;

And lay an apple upon hys head,
And go syxe score hym fro,
And I my selfe with a brode aròw
Shall cleve the apple in two.

Now haste the, then sayd the kyng,
By hym that dyed on a tre,
But yf thou do not, as thou hest sayde,
Hanged shalt thou be.

170

And thou touche his head or gowne,
In syght that men may se,
By all the sayntes that be in heaven,
I shall hange you all thre.

That I have promised, said William,
That wyll I never forsake.
And there even before the kynge
In the earth he drove a stake:

And bound therto his eldest sonne,
And bad hym stand styll thereat;
And turned the childes face him fro,
Because he should not sterte.

An apple upon his head he set,
And then his bowe he bent:
Syxe score paces they were out mete,
And thether Cloudeslè went.

There he drew out a fayr brode arrowe,
Hys bowe was great and longe,
He set that arrowe in his bowe,
That was both styffe and stronge.

He prayed the people, that wer there,
That they still wold stand,
For he that shoteth for such a wager,
Behoveth a stedfast hand.

171

Muche people prayed for Cloudeslè,
That his lyfe saved myght be,
And whan he made hym redy to shote,
There was many weeping ee.

But Cloudeslè clefte the apple in twaine,
His sonne he did not nee.
Over Gods forbode, sayde the kinge,
That thou shold shote at me.

I geve thee eightene pence a day,
And my bowe shalt thou bere,
And over all the north countrè
I make the chyfe rydère.

And I thyrtene pence a day, said the quene,
By God, and by my fay;
Come feche thy payment when thou wylt,
No man shall say the nay.

Wyllyam, I make the a gentleman
Of clothyng, and of fe:
And thy two brethren, yemen of my chambre,
For they are so semely to se.

Your sonne, for he is tendre of age,
Of my wyne seller he shall be;
And when he commeth to mans estate,
Shal better avaunced be.

172

And, Wyllym, bring to me your wife,
Me longeth her sore to se:
She shall be my chefe gentlewoman,
To governe my nurserye.

The yemen thanketh them curteously.
To some byshop wyl we wend,
Of all the synnes, that we have done,
To be assoyld at his hand.

So forth be gone these good yemen,
As fast as they might he ;
And after came and dwelled with the kynge,
And dyed good men all thre.

Thus endeth the lives of these good yemen;
God send them eternall blysse.
And all, that with a hand-bowe shoteth,
That of heven they never mysse.

Amen.

I had wende. PC.

never had se. PC.

bowne, PC.

God a mercye. MS.

blythe. MS.

i.e. mark.

to. PC.

Twenty score paces. PC. i. e. 400 yards.

to. PC.

Six-score paces. PC. i. e. 120 yards.

steedye. MS.

he. i.e. hie, hasten. See the Glossary.