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 | ||
IV. NORTHUMBERLAND BETRAYED BY DOUGLAS.
This ballad may be considered as the sequel of the preceding. After the unfortunate Earl of Northumberland
Lord Northumberland continued in the castle of Loughleven, till the year 1572; when James Douglas Earl of Morton being elected Regent, he was given up to the Lord Hunsden at Berwick, and being carried to York, suffered death. As Morton's party depended on Elizabeth for protection, an elegant Historian thinks “it was scarce possible for them to refuse putting into her hands, a person who had taken up arms against her. But as a sum of money was paid on that account, and shared between Morton and his kinsman Douglas, the former of whom during his exile in England had been much indebted to Northumberland's friendship, the abandoning this unhappy nobleman to inevitable destruction, was deemed an ungrateful and mercenary act.”
Robertson's Hist.So far history coincides with this ballad, which was apparently written by some northern bard, soon after the event. The interposal of the witch-lady (v. 53.) is probably his own invention: yet even this hath some countenance from history; for about 25 years before, the Lady Jane Douglas, Lady Glamis, sister of the earl of Angus, and nearly related to Douglas of Lough-leven, had suffered death for the pretended crime of witchcraft; who, it is presumed, is the lady alluded to in verse 133.
The following is printed (like the former) from two copies: one of them in the Editor's folio MS: Which also contains another ballad on the escape of the E. of Westmoreland, who got safe into Flanders, and is feigned in the ballad to have undergone a great variety of adventures.
And harrowe me with fear and dread?
How long shall I in bale abide,
In misery my life to lead?
It was my sore and heavye lott:
And I must leave my native land,
And I must live a man forgot.
A Scot he is much bound to mee:
He dwelleth on the border side,
To him I'll goe right privilìe.
With a heavy heart and wel-away,
When he with all his gallant men
On Bramham moor had lost the day.
They dealt with him all treacherouslye;
For they did strip that noble earle:
And ever an ill death may they dye.
To shew him where his guest did hide:
Who sent him to the Lough-levèn,
With William Douglas to abide.
He halched him right curteouslíe:
Say'd, Welcome, welcome, noble earle,
Here thou shalt safelye bide with mee.
Many a month and many a day;
To the regent the lord warden sent,
That bannisht earle for to betray.
And wrote a letter fair to see:
Saying, Good my lord, grant me my boon,
And yield that banisht man to mee.
With many a goodly gentleman:
The wylie Douglas then bespake,
And thus to flyte with him began:
And in your mind so sorrowfullyè?
To-morrow a shootinge will bee held
Among the lords of the North countryè.
And there will be great royaltìe:
And I am sworne into my bille,
Thither to bring my lord Percìe.
And here by my true faith, quoth hee,
If thou wilt ride to the worldes end,
I will ride in thy companìe.
Mary à Douglas was her name:
You shall bide here, good English lord,
My brother is a traiterous man.
As I tell you in privitìe:
For he has tane liverance of the earle ,
Into England nowe to 'liver thee.
The regent is a noble lord:
Ne for the gold in all Englànd,
The Douglas wold not break his word.
With me he did faire welcome find;
And whether weal or woe betide,
I still shall find him true and kind.
And friends again they wold never bee,
If they shold 'liver a banisht earle
Was driven out of his own countrie.
Nowe mickle is their traitorìe;
Then let my brother ride his ways,
And tell those English lords from thee,
Because you are in an isle of the sea ,
Then ere my brother come againe
To Edinbrow castle Ile carry thee.
He is well knowne a true Scots lord,
And he will lose both land and life,
Ere he with thee will break his word.
When I thinkíe on my own countrie,
When I thinke on the heavye happe
My friends have suffered there for mee.
And sore those wars my minde distresse;
Where many a widow lost her mate,
And many a child was fatherlesse.
Shold bring such evil happe with mee,
To cause my faire and noble friends
To be suspect of treacherie:
And lever had I dye this day,
Than thinke a Douglas can be false,
Or ever he will his guest betray.
Nor unto mee no credence yield;
Yet step one moment here aside,
Ile showe you all your foes in field.
Never dealt in privy wyle;
But evermore held the high-waye
Of truth and honours, free from guile.
Yet send your chamberlaine with mee;
Let me but speak three words with him,
And he shall come again to thee.
She showed him through the weme of her ring
How many English lords there were
Waiting for his master and him.
So royallyè on yonder greene?
O yonder is the lord Hunsdèn :
Alas! he'll doe you drie and teene.
That walkes so proudly him beside?
That is Sir William Drury , she sayd,
A keen captàine he is and tryed.
Betwixt yond English lords and mee?
Marry it is thrice fifty miles,
To sayl to them upon the sea.
Ne never sawe it with mine eye,
But as my book it sheweth mee,
And through my ring I may descrye.
And of her skille she learned mee;
She wold let me see out of Lough-leven
What they did in London citìe.
That looketh with sic an austerne face?
Yonder is Sir John Foster , quoth shee,
Alas! he'll do ye sore disgrace.
And in his heart he was full of woe;
And he is gone to his noble lord,
Those sorrowful tidings him to show.
I may not believe that witch ladìe:
The Douglasses were ever true,
And they can ne'er prove false to mee.
The most part of these years three,
Ne no good games that I cold see.
As to the Douglas I have hight:
Betide me weale, betide me woe,
He ne'er shall find my promise light.
And gave it to that faire ladìe:
Sayes, It was all that I cold save,
In Harley woods where I could be .
Then farewell truth and honestìe;
And farewell heart and farewell hand;
For never more I shall thee see.
And all the saylors were on borde;
Then William Douglas took to his boat,
And with him went that noble lord.
Says, Gentle lady, fare thee well!
The lady fett a sigh soe deep,
And in a dead swoone down shee fell.
A sickness hath taken yond faire ladìe;
If ought befall yond lady but good,
Then blamed for ever I shall bee.
Come on, come on, and let her bee:
There's ladyes enow in Lough-leven
For to chear that gay ladìe.
Let me goe with my chamberlaine;
We will but comfort that faire lady,
And wee will return to you againe.
Come on, come on, and let her bee:
My sister is crafty, and wold beguile
A thousand such as you and mee.
Fifty mile upon the sea;
He sent his man to ask the Douglas,
When they shold that shooting see.
And that by thee and thy lord is seen:
You may hap to think it soon enough,
Ere you that shooting reach, I ween.
He thought his lord then was betray'd;
And he is to Earle Percy againe,
To tell him what the Douglas sayd.
Nor therefore let thy courage fail:
He did it but to prove thy heart,
To see if he cold make it quail.
Other fifty mile upon the sea,
Lord Percy call'd to the Douglas himselfe,
Sayd, What wilt thou nowe doe with mee?
And your horse goe swift as ship at sea:
Looke that your spurres be bright and sharp,
That you may prick her while she'll away.
What needest thou to flyte with mee?
For I was counted a horseman good
Before that ever I met with thee.
Who dealt with mee so treacherouslìe:
A false Armstrong he hath my spurres,
And all the geere that belongs to mee.
Other fifty mile upon the sea:
They landed him at Berwick towne,
The Douglas landed Lord Percìe.
It was, alas! a sorrowful sight:
Thus they betrayed that noble earle,
Who ever was a gallant wight.
Reliques of Ancient English Poetry | ||