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 | ||
X. THE BEGGAR'S DAUGHTER OF BEDNALL-GREEN.
This popular old ballad was written in the reign of Elizabeth, as appears not only from ver. 23. where the arms of England are called the “Queenes armes;” but from its tune's being quoted in other old pieces, written in her time. See the ballad on Mary Ambree in this volume.—An ingenious gentleman has assured the Editor, that he has formerly seen another old song on the same subject, composed in a different measure from this; which was truly beautiful, if we may judge from the only stanza he remembered: in this it was said of the old beggar, that “down his neck
In comelye curles did wave;
And on his aged temples grewe
The blossomes of the grave.”
The following ballad is chiefly given from the Editor's folio MS. compared with two ancient printed copies: the concluding stanzas, which contain the old Beggar's discovery of himself, are not however given from any of these, being very different from those of the vulgar ballad. They were communicated to the Editor in manuscript; but he will not answer for their being genuine: he rather thinks them the modern production of some person, who was offended at the absurdities, and inconsistencies, which so remarkably prevailed in this part of the song, as it stood before: whereas by the alteration of a few lines, the story is rendered much more affecting, and is reconciled to probability and true history. For this informs us, that at the decisive battle of
Part the First.
He had a faire daughter of bewty most bright;
And many a gallant brave suiter had shee,
For none was soe comelye as pretty Bessee.
Yett seeing shee was but a blinde beggars heyre,
Of ancyent housekeepers despised was shee,
Whose sonnes came as suitors to pretty Bessee.
Good father, and mother, let me goe away
To seeke out my fortune, whatever itt bee.
Her suite then they granted to prettye Bessee.
All cladd in gray russett, and late in the night
From father and mother alone parted shee;
Who sighed and sobbed for prettye Bessee.
Then knew shee not whither, nor which way to goe:
With teares shee lamented her hard destinìe,
So sadd and so heavy was prettye Bessee.
And went unto Rumford along the hye way;
Where at the Queenes armes entertained was shee:
So faire and wel favoured was prettye Bessee.
But master and mistres and all was her friend:
And every brave gallant, that once did her see,
Was strait-way enamourd of prettye Bessee.
And in their songs daylye her love was extold;
Her beautye was blazed in every degree;
Soe faire and soe comelye was prettye Bessee.
Shee shewd herself courteous, and modestlye coye;
And at her commandment still wold they bee;
Soe faire and soe comelye was pretty Bessee.
They craved her favor, but still shee sayd noe;
I wold not wish gentles to marry with mee.
Yett ever they honoured prettye Bessee.
And he came unto her disguisde in the night:
The second a gentleman of good degree,
Who wooed and sued for prettye Bessee.
He was the third suiter, and proper withall:
Her masters own sonne the fourth man must bee,
Who swore he wold dye for prettye Bessee.
Ile make thee a ladye with joy and delight;
My hart's so inthralled by thy bewtìe,
That soone I shall dye for prettye Bessee.
As fine as a ladye my Bessy shal bee:
My life is distressed: O heare me, quoth hee;
And grant me thy love, my prettye Bessee.
Thou shalt live in London both gallant and gay
My shippes shall bring home rych jewels for thee,
And I will for ever love prettye Bessee.
My father and mother I meane to obey;
First gett their good will, and be faithful to mee,
And you shall enjoye your prettye Bessee.
Wherfore unto her they joyfullye sayd,
This thing to fulfill wee all doe agree;
But where dwells thy father, my prettye Bessee?
The seely blind beggar of Bednall-greene,
That daylye sits begging for charitìe,
He is the good father of prettye Bessee.
He always is led with a dogg and a bell:
A seely olde man God knoweth is hee,
Yett hee is the father of prettye Bessee.
Nor, quoth the innholder, my wiffe shalt thou bee:
I lothe, sayd the gentle, a beggars degree,
And therefore, adewe, my prettye Bessee!
I weighe not true love by the weight of the pursse,
And bewtye is bewtye in every degree;
Then welcome unto mee, my prettye Bessee.
Nay soft, quoth his kinsmen, it must not be soe;
A poor beggars daughter noe ladye shal bee,
Then take thy adew of prettye Bessee.
The knight had from Rumford stole Bessy away.
The yonge men of Rumford, as thicke as might bee,
Rode after to feitch againe prettye Bessee.
Untill they came neare unto Bednall-greene;
And as the knight lighted most curteouslìe,
They all fought against him for prettye Bessee.
Or else the young knight for his love had beene slaine.
This fray being ended, then straitway he see
His kinsmen come rayling at prettye Bessee.
Yett rayle not against my child at my owne door:
Though shee be not decked in velvett and pearle,
Yett I will dropp angells with you for my girle.
And equall the gold that you lay on the earth,
Then neyther rayle nor grudge you to see
The blind beggars daughter a lady to bee.
The gold that you drop shall all be your owne.
With that they replyed, Contented bee wee.
Then here's, quoth the beggar, for prettye Bessee.
And dropped in angels full three thousand pound;
And oftentimes it was proved most plaine,
For the gentlemens one the beggar dropt twayne:
With gold it was covered every whitt.
The gentlemen then having dropt all their store,
Sayd, Now, beggar, hold, for we have no more.
Then marry my girle, quoth he to the knight;
And heere, added hee, I will now throwe you downe
A hundred pounds more to buy her a gowne.
Admired the beggar of Bednall-greene:
And all those, that were her suitors before,
Their fleshe for very anger they tore.
And then made a ladye in others despite:
A fairer ladye there never was seene,
Than the blind beggars daughter of Bednall-greene.
What brave lords and knights thither were prest,
The second fit shall set forth to your sight
With marveilous pleasure, and wished delight.
Part the Second.
Adorned with all the cost they colde have,
This wedding was kept most sumptuouslìe,
And all for the creditt of prettye Bessee.
Were bought for their banquet, as it was meete;
Partridge, and plover, and venison most free,
Against the brave wedding of pretty Bessee.
So that a great number therto did resort
Of nobles and gentles in every degree;
And all for the fame of prettye Bessee.
His bride followed after, an angell most bright,
With troopes of ladyes, the like nere was seene
That went with sweete Bessy of Bednall-greene.
With musicke performed by the skilfullest men,
The nobles and gentles sate downe at that tyde,
Each one admiring the beautifull bryde.
To talke, and to reason a number begunn:
They talkt of the blind beggars daughter most bright,
And what with his daughter he gave to the knight.
This jolly blind beggar we cannot here see.”
My lords, quoth the bride, my father's so base,
He is loth with his presence these states to disgrace.
Before her own face, were a flattering thinge;
But wee thinke thy father's baseness, quoth they,
Might by thy bewtye be cleane put awaye.”
But in comes the beggar clad in a silke cloke;
A faire velvet capp, and a fether had hee,
And now a musicyan forsooth he wold bee.
He touched the strings, which made such a charme,
Saies, Please you to heare any musicke of mee,
Ile sing you a song of prettye Bessee.
And thereon begann most sweetlye to play;
And after that lessons were playd two or three,
He strayn'd out this song most delicatelìe.
“Who for her fairenesse might well be a queene:
“A blithe bonny lasse, and a dainty was shee,
“And many one called her prettye Bessee.
“But beggd for a penny all day with his hand;
“And yett to her marriage he gave thousands three,
“And still he hath somewhat for prettye Bessee.
“Her father is ready, with might and with maine,
“To prove shee is come of noble degree:
“Therfòre never flout at prettye Bessee.”
With hearty laughter were readye to swound;
At last sayd the lords, Full well wee may see,
The bride and the beggar's beholden to thee.
The pearlie dropps standing within her faire eyes,
O pardon my father, grave nobles, quoth shee,
That throughe blind affection thus doteth on mee.
Well may he be proud of this happy day;
Yett by his countenance well may we see,
His birth and his fortune did never agree:
(And looke that the truth thou to us doe say)
Thy birth and thy parentage, what it may bee;
For the love that thou bearest to prettye Bessee.
“One song more to sing, and then I have done;
“And if that itt may not winn good report,
“Then do not give me a groat for my sport.
“Once chiefe of all the great barons was hee,
“Yet fortune so cruelle this lorde did abase,
“Now loste and forgotten are hee and his race.
“Sir Simon de Montfort their leader they chose;
“A leader of courage undaunted was hee,
“And oft-times hee made their enemyes flee.
“The barons were routed, and Montfort was slaine;
“Moste fatall that battel did prove unto thee,
“Thoughe thou wast not borne then, my prettye Bessee!
“His eldest son Henrye, who fought by his side,
“Was fellde by a blowe, he receivde in the fight!
“A blowe that deprivde him for ever of sight.
“Till evening drewe on of the following daye,
“When by a yong ladye discoverd was hee;
“And this was thy mother, my prettye Bessee!
“To search for her father, who fell in the fight,
“And seeing yong Montfort, where gasping he laye,
“Was moved with pitye, and brought him awaye.
“While he throughe the realme was beleevd to be slaine:
“At lengthe his faire bride she consented to bee,
“And made him glad father of prettye Bessee.
“We clothed ourselves in beggars arraye;
“Her jewelles shee solde, and hither came wee:
“All our comfort and care was our prettye Bessee.
“Thoughe meane, yet contented with humble delighte:
“Thus many longe winters nowe have I beene
“The sillye blinde beggar of Bednall-greene.
“Of one, that once to your own ranke did belong:
“And thus have you learned a secrette from mee,
“That ne'er had beene knowne, but for prettye Bessee.”
Had heard the strange tale in the song he had showne,
They all were amazed, as well they might bee,
Both at the blinde beggar, and prettye Bessee.
Saying, Sure thou art come of an honourable race,
Thy father likewise is of noble degree,
And thou art right worthy a ladye to bee.
A bridegroome most happye then was the yong knighte,
In joye and felicitie long lived hee,
All with his faire ladye, the prettye Bessee.
The word fit, for part, often occurs in our ancient ballads and metrical romances; which being divided into several parts for the convenience of singing them at public entertainments, were in the intervals of the feast sung by fits, or intermissions. So Puttenham in his Art of English poesie, 1589, says “the Epithalamie was divided by breaches into three partes to serve for three several fits, or times to be sung.”
From the same writer we learn some curious particulars relative to the state of ballad-singing in that age, that will throw light on the present subject: speaking of the quick returns of one manner of tune in the short measures used by common rhymers; these, he says, “glut the eare, unless it be in small and popular musickes, sung by these Cantabanqui, upon benches and barrels heads, where they have none other audience then boys or countrey fellowes, that passe by them in the streete; or else by blind harpers, or such like taverne Minstrels, that give a fit of mirth for a groat, . . their matter being for the most part stories of old time, as the tale of Sir Topas, the reportes of Bevis of Southampton, Guy of Warwicke, Adam Bell and Clymme of the Clough, and such other old romances or historical rimes, made purposely for recreation of the common people at Christmasse dinners and brideales, and in tavernes and alehouses, and such other places of base resorte.”
This species of entertainment, which seems to have been handed down from the ancient bards, was in the time of Puttenham falling apace into neglect; but that it was not, even then, wholly excluded more genteel assemblies, he gives us room to infer from another passage. “We ourselves, says this courtly writer, have written for pleasure a little brief romance, or historical ditty in the English tong of the Isle of Great Britaine in short and long meetres, and by breaches or divisions [i. e. fits,] to be more commodiously sung to the harpe in places of assembly, where the company shal be desirous to heare of old adventures, and valiaunces of noble knights in times past, as are those of king Arthur and his knights of the Round table, Sir Bevys of Southampton, Guy of Warwicke, and others like.”
In more ancient times no grand scene of festivity was compleat without one of these reciters to entertain the company with feats of arms, and tales of knighthood, or, as one of these old minstrels says, in the beginning of an ancient romance in the Editor's folio MS.
“And lords and ladyes still wil bee,
“And sitt and solace lythe;
“Then itt is time for mee to speake
“Of keene knightes, and kempès great,
“Such carping for to kythe.”
If we consider that a groat in the age of Elizabeth was more than equivalent to a shilling now, we shall find that the old harpers were even then, when their art was on the decline, upon a far more reputable footing than the ballad-singers of our time. The reciting of one such ballad as this of the Beggar of Bednal-green, in II parts, was rewarded with half a crown of our money. And that they made a very respectable appearance, we may learn from the dress of the old beggar, in the following stanzas, ver. 34, where he comes into company in the habit and character of one of these minstrels, being not known to be the bride's father, till after her speech, ver. 63. The exordium of his song, and his claiming a groat for his reward, v. 76, are peculiarly characteristic of that profession.—Most of the old ballads begin in a pompous manner, in order to captivate the attention of the audience, and induce them to purchase a recital of the song: and they seldom conclude the first part without large promises of still greater entertainment in the second. This was a necessary piece of art to incline the hearers to be at the expence of a second groat's-worth—Many of the old romances extend to eight or nine fits, which would afford a considerable profit to the reciter.
To return to the word fit; it seems at first to have peculiarly signified the pause, or breathing-time between the several parts, (answering to Passus in the visions of Pierce Plowman): thus in the old poem of John the Reeve, the first part ends with this line,
“The first fitt here find wee:”i. e. here we come to the first pause or intermission .—By degrees it came to signify the whole part or division preceding the pause; and this sense it had obtained so early as the time of Chaucer: who thus concludes the first part of his rhyme of Sir Thopas (writ in ridicule of the old ballad romances)
“If ye woll any more of it,
“To tell it woll I fonde.”
Reliques of Ancient English Poetry | ||