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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of A Book of Ballads, Volume 3, by Various
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: A Book of Ballads, Volume 3
+
+Author: Various
+
+Editor: Beverly Nichols
+
+Posting Date: April 29, 2014 [EBook #7533]
+Release Date: February, 2005
+First Posted: May 15, 2003
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: UTF-8
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A BOOK OF BALLADS, VOLUME 3 ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by David Widger, Juliet Sutherland, Phil McLaury,
+Charles Franks and the Online Distributed Proofreading
+Team. Text version by Al Haines.
+
+
+
+
+
+`
+
+
+
+
+A BOOK OF OLD BALLADS
+
+Selected and with an Introduction
+
+by
+
+BEVERLEY NICHOLS
+
+
+[Illustration: Title page art]
+
+
+
+
+
+  CONTENTS
+
+  CLERK COLVILL
+  SIR ALDINGAR
+  EDOM O' GORDON
+  CHEVY CHACE
+  SIR LANCELOT DU LAKE
+  GIL MORRICE
+  THE CHILD OF ELLE
+  CHILD WATERS
+  KING EDWARD IV AND THE TANNER OF TAMWORTH
+  SIR PATRICK SPENS
+  THE EARL OF MAR'S DAUGHTER
+
+
+
+  LIST OF COLOUR PLATES
+
+  CLERK COLVILL
+  GIL MORRICE
+  CHILD WATERS
+  THE EARL OF MAR'S DAUGHTER
+
+
+
+
+CLERK COLVILL
+
+[Illustration: Clerk Colvill headpiece]
+
+
+[Illustration: Clerk Colvill]
+
+
+  Clerk Colvill and his lusty dame
+    Were walking in the garden green;
+  The belt around her stately waist
+    Cost Clerk Colvill of pounds fifteen.
+
+  "O promise me now, Clerk Colvill,
+    Or it will cost ye muckle strife,
+  Ride never by the wells of Slane,
+    If ye wad live and brook your life."
+
+  "Now speak nae mair, my lusty dame,
+    Now speak nae mair of that to me;
+  Did I neer see a fair woman,
+    But I wad sin with her body?"
+
+  He's taen leave o his gay lady,
+    Nought minding what his lady said,
+  And he's rode by the wells of Slane,
+    Where washing was a bonny maid.
+
+  "Wash on, wash on, my bonny maid,
+    That wash sae clean your sark of silk;"
+  "And weel fa you, fair gentleman,
+    Your body whiter than the milk."
+
+      *       *       *       *       *
+
+  Then loud, loud cry'd the Clerk Colvill,
+    "O my head it pains me sair;"
+  "Then take, then take," the maiden said,
+    "And frae my sark you'll cut a gare."
+
+  Then she's gied him a little bane-knife,
+    And frae her sark he cut a share;
+  She's ty'd it round his whey-white face,
+    But ay his head it aked mair.
+
+  Then louder cry'd the Clerk Colville,
+    "O sairer, sairer akes my head;"
+  "And sairer, sairer ever will,"
+    The maiden crys, "till you be dead."
+
+  Out then he drew his shining blade,
+    Thinking to stick her where she stood,
+  But she was vanished to a fish,
+    And swam far off, a fair mermaid.
+
+  "O mother, mother, braid my hair;
+    My lusty lady, make my bed;
+  O brother, take my sword and spear,
+    For I have seen the false mermaid."
+
+
+
+
+SIR ALDINGAR
+
+[Illustration: Sir Aldingar headpiece]
+
+
+  Our king he kept a false stewàrde,
+    Sir Aldingar they him call;
+  A falser steward than he was one,
+    Servde not in bower nor hall.
+
+  He wolde have layne by our comelye queene,
+    Her deere worshippe to betraye:
+  Our queene she was a good womàn,
+    And evermore said him naye.
+
+  Sir Aldingar was wrothe in his mind,
+    With her hee was never content,
+  Till traiterous meanes he colde devyse,
+    In a fyer to have her brent.
+
+  There came a lazar to the kings gate,
+    A lazar both blinde and lame:
+  He tooke the lazar upon his backe,
+    Him on the queenes bed has layne.
+
+  "Lye still, lazar, whereas thou lyest,
+    Looke thou goe not hence away;
+  He make thee a whole man and a sound
+    In two howers of the day."
+
+  Then went him forth Sir Aldingar,
+    And hyed him to our king:
+  "If I might have grace, as I have space,
+    Sad tydings I could bring."
+
+  Say on, say on, Sir Aldingar,
+    Saye on the soothe to mee.
+  "Our queene hath chosen a new new love,
+    And shee will have none of thee.
+
+  "If shee had chosen a right good knight,
+    The lesse had beene her shame;
+  But she hath chose her a lazar man,
+    A lazar both blinde and lame."
+
+  If this be true, thou Aldingar,
+    The tyding thou tellest to me,
+  Then will I make thee a rich rich knight,
+    Rich both of golde and fee.
+
+  But if it be false, Sir Aldingar,
+    As God nowe grant it bee!
+  Thy body, I sweare by the holye rood,
+    Shall hang on the gallows tree.
+
+  He brought our king to the queenes chambèr,
+    And opend to him the dore.
+  A lodlye love, King Harry says,
+    For our queene dame Elinore!
+
+  If thou were a man, as thou art none,
+    Here on my sword thoust dye;
+  But a payre of new gallowes shall be built,
+    And there shalt thou hang on hye.
+
+  Forth then hyed our king, I wysse,
+    And an angry man was hee;
+  And soone he found Queen Elinore,
+    That bride so bright of blee.
+
+  Now God you save, our queene, madame,
+    And Christ you save and see;
+  Heere you have chosen a newe newe love,
+    And you will have none of mee.
+
+  If you had chosen a right good knight,
+    The lesse had been your shame;
+  But you have chose you a lazar man,
+    A lazar both blinde and lame.
+
+  Therfore a fyer there shalt be built,
+    And brent all shalt thou bee.--
+  Now out alacke! said our comly queene,
+    Sir Aldingar's false to mee.
+
+  Now out alacke! sayd our comlye queene,
+    My heart with griefe will brast.
+  I had thought swevens had never been true;
+    I have proved them true at last.
+
+  I dreamt in my sweven on Thursday eve,
+    In my bed whereas I laye.
+  I dreamt a grype and a grimlie beast
+    Had carryed my crowne awaye;
+
+  My gorgett and my kirtle of golde,
+    And all my faire head-geere:
+  And he wold worrye me with his tush
+    And to his nest y-beare:
+
+  Saving there came a little 'gray' hawke,
+    A merlin him they call,
+  Which untill the grounde did strike the grype,
+    That dead he downe did fall.
+
+  Giffe I were a man, as now I am none,
+    A battell wold I prove,
+  To fight with that traitor Aldingar,
+    Att him I cast my glove.
+
+  But seeing Ime able noe battell to make,
+    My liege, grant me a knight
+  To fight with that traitor Sir Aldingar,
+    To maintaine me in my right.
+
+  "Now forty dayes I will give thee
+    To seeke thee a knight therein:
+  If thou find not a knight in forty dayes
+    Thy bodye it must brenn."
+
+  Then shee sent east, and shee sent west,
+    By north and south bedeene:
+  But never a champion colde she find,
+    Wolde fight with that knight soe keene.
+
+  Now twenty dayes were spent and gone,
+    Noe helpe there might be had;
+  Many a teare shed our comelye queene
+    And aye her hart was sad.
+
+  Then came one of the queenes damsèlles,
+    And knelt upon her knee,
+  "Cheare up, cheare up, my gracious dame,
+    I trust yet helpe may be:
+
+  And here I will make mine avowe,
+    And with the same me binde;
+  That never will I return to thee,
+    Till I some helpe may finde."
+
+  Then forth she rode on a faire palfràye
+    Oer hill and dale about:
+  But never a champion colde she finde,
+    Wolde fighte with that knight so stout.
+
+  And nowe the daye drewe on a pace,
+    When our good queene must dye;
+  All woe-begone was that faire damsèlle,
+    When she found no helpe was nye.
+
+  All woe-begone was that faire damsèlle,
+    And the salt teares fell from her eye:
+  When lo! as she rode by a rivers side,
+    She met with a tinye boye.
+
+  A tinye boye she mette, God wot,
+    All clad in mantle of golde;
+  He seemed noe more in mans likenèsse,
+    Then a childe of four yeere old.
+
+  Why grieve you, damselle faire, he sayd,
+    And what doth cause you moane?
+  The damsell scant wolde deigne a looke,
+    But fast she pricked on.
+
+  Yet turne againe, thou faire damsèlle
+    And greete thy queene from mee:
+  When bale is att hyest, boote is nyest,
+    Nowe helpe enoughe may bee.
+
+  Bid her remember what she dreamt
+    In her bedd, wheras shee laye;
+  How when the grype and grimly beast
+    Wolde have carried her crowne awaye,
+
+  Even then there came the little gray hawke,
+    And saved her from his clawes:
+  Then bidd the queene be merry at hart,
+    For heaven will fende her cause.
+
+  Back then rode that faire damsèlle,
+    And her hart it lept for glee:
+  And when she told her gracious dame
+    A gladd woman then was shee:
+
+  But when the appointed day was come,
+    No helpe appeared nye:
+  Then woeful, woeful was her hart,
+    And the teares stood in her eye.
+
+  And nowe a fyer was built of wood;
+    And a stake was made of tree;
+  And now Queene Elinor forth was led,
+    A sorrowful sight to see.
+
+  Three times the herault he waved his hand,
+    And three times spake on hye:
+  Giff any good knight will fende this dame,
+    Come forth, or shee must dye.
+
+  No knight stood forth, no knight there came,
+    No helpe appeared nye:
+  And now the fyer was lighted up,
+    Queen Elinor she must dye.
+
+  And now the fyer was lighted up,
+    As hot as hot might bee;
+  When riding upon a little white steed,
+    The tinye boy they see.
+
+  "Away with that stake, away with those brands,
+    And loose our comelye queene:
+  I am come to fight with Sir Aldingar,
+    And prove him a traitor keene."
+
+  Forthe then stood Sir Aldingar,
+    But when he saw the chylde,
+  He laughed, and scoffed, and turned his backe,
+    And weened he had been beguylde.
+
+  "Now turne, now turne thee, Aldingar,
+    And eyther fighte or flee;
+  I trust that I shall avenge the wronge,
+    Thoughe I am so small to see."
+
+  The boy pulld forth a well good sworde
+    So gilt it dazzled the ee;
+  The first stroke stricken at Aldingar,
+    Smote off his leggs by the knee.
+
+  "Stand up, stand up, thou false traitòr,
+    And fight upon thy feete,
+  For and thou thrive, as thou begin'st,
+    Of height wee shall be meete."
+
+  A priest, a priest, sayes Aldingàr,
+    While I am a man alive.
+  A priest, a priest, sayes Aldingàr,
+    Me for to houzle and shrive.
+
+  I wolde have laine by our comlie queene,
+    Bot shee wolde never consent;
+  Then I thought to betraye her unto our kinge
+    In a fyer to have her brent.
+
+  There came a lazar to the kings gates,
+    A lazar both blind and lame:
+  I tooke the lazar upon my backe,
+    And on her bedd had him layne.
+
+  Then ranne I to our comlye king,
+    These tidings sore to tell.
+  But ever alacke! sayes Aldingar,
+    Falsing never doth well.
+
+  Forgive, forgive me, queene, madame,
+    The short time I must live.
+  "Nowe Christ forgive thee, Aldingar,
+    As freely I forgive."
+
+  Here take thy queene, our king Harryè,
+    And love her as thy life,
+  For never had a king in Christentye.
+    A truer and fairer wife.
+
+  King Henrye ran to claspe his queene,
+    And loosed her full sone:
+  Then turned to look for the tinye boye;
+    --The boye was vanisht and gone.
+
+  But first he had touched the lazar man,
+    And stroakt him with his hand:
+  The lazar under the gallowes tree
+    All whole and sounde did stand.
+
+  The lazar under the gallowes tree
+    Was comelye, straight and tall;
+  King Henrye made him his head stewàrde
+    To wayte withinn his hall.
+
+
+
+
+EDOM O' GORDON
+
+[Illustration: Edom O' Gordon headpiece]
+
+
+  It fell about the Martinmas,
+    Quhen the wind blew shril and cauld,
+  Said Edom o' Gordon to his men,
+    We maun draw till a hauld.
+
+  And quhat a hauld sall we draw till,
+    My mirry men and me?
+  We wul gae to the house o' the Rodes,
+    To see that fair ladie.
+
+  The lady stude on her castle wa',
+    Beheld baith dale and down:
+  There she was ware of a host of men
+    Cum ryding towards the toun.
+
+  O see ze nat, my mirry men a'?
+    O see za nat quhat I see?
+  Methinks I see a host of men:
+    I marveil quha they be.
+
+  She weend it had been hir luvely lord,
+    As he cam ryding hame;
+  It was the traitor Edom o' Gordon,
+    Quha reckt nae sin nor shame.
+
+  She had nae sooner buskit hirsel,
+    And putten on hir goun,
+  But Edom o' Gordon and his men
+    Were round about the toun.
+
+  They had nae sooner supper sett,
+    Nae sooner said the grace,
+  But Edom o' Gordon and his men
+    Were light about the place.
+
+  The lady ran up to hir towir head,
+    Sa fast as she could hie,
+  To see if by hir fair speechès
+    She could wi' him agree.
+
+  But quhan he see this lady saif,
+    And hir yates all locked fast,
+  He fell into a rage of wrath,
+    And his look was all aghast.
+
+  Cum doun to me, ze lady gay,
+    Cum doun, cum doun to me:
+  This night sall ye lig within mine armes,
+    To-morrow my bride sall be.
+
+  I winnae cum doun ze fals Gordòn,
+    I winnae cum doun to thee;
+  I winna forsake my ain dear lord,
+    That is sae far frae me.
+
+  Give owre zour house, ze lady fair,
+    Give owre zour house to me,
+  Or I sall brenn yoursel therein,
+    Bot and zour babies three.
+
+  I winnae give owre, ze false Gordòn,
+    To nae sik traitor as zee;
+  And if ze brenn my ain dear babes,
+    My lord sall make ze drie.
+
+  But reach my pistoll, Glaud my man,
+    And charge ze weil my gun:
+  For, but an I pierce that bluidy butcher,
+    My babes we been undone.
+
+  She stude upon hir castle wa',
+    And let twa bullets flee:
+  She mist that bluidy butchers hart,
+    And only raz'd his knee.
+
+  Set fire to the house, quo' fals Gordòn,
+    All wood wi' dule and ire:
+  Fals lady, ze sall rue this deid,
+    As ze bren in the fire.
+
+  Wae worth, wae worth ze, Jock my man,
+    I paid ze weil zour fee;
+  Quhy pu' ze out the ground-wa' stane,
+    Lets in the reek to me?
+
+  And ein wae worth ze, Jock my man,
+    I paid ze weil zour hire;
+  Quhy pu' ze out the ground-wa' stane,
+    To me lets in the fire?
+
+  Ze paid me weil my hire, lady;
+    Ze paid me weil my fee:
+  But now I'm Edom o' Gordons man,
+    Maun either doe or die.
+
+  O than bespaik hir little son,
+    Sate on the nurses knee:
+  Sayes, Mither deare, gi' owre this house,
+    For the reek it smithers me.
+
+  I wad gie a' my gowd, my childe,
+    Say wald I a' my fee,
+  For ane blast o' the western wind,
+    To blaw the reek frae thee.
+
+  O then bespaik hir dochter dear,
+    She was baith jimp and sma;
+  O row me in a pair o' sheits,
+    And tow me owre the wa.
+
+  They rowd hir in a pair o' sheits,
+    And towd hir owre the wa:
+  But on the point of Gordons spear
+    She gat a deadly fa.
+
+  O bonnie bonnie was hir mouth,
+    And cherry were her cheiks,
+  And clear clear was hir zellow hair,
+    Whereon the reid bluid dreips.
+
+  Then wi' his spear he turnd hir owre,
+    O gin hir face was wan!
+  He sayd, Ze are the first that eir
+    I wisht alive again.
+
+  He turnd hir owre and owre againe,
+    O gin hir skin was whyte!
+  I might ha spared that bonnie face
+    To hae been sum mans delyte.
+
+  Busk and boun, my merry men a',
+    For ill dooms I doe guess;
+  I cannae luik in that bonnie face,
+    As it lyes on the grass.
+
+  Thame, luiks to freits, my master deir,
+    Then freits wil follow thame:
+  Let neir be said brave Edom o' Gordon
+    Was daunted by a dame.
+
+  But quhen the ladye see the fire
+    Cum flaming owre hir head,
+  She wept and kist her children twain,
+    Sayd, Bairns, we been but dead.
+
+  The Gordon then his bougill blew,
+    And said, Awa', awa';
+  This house o' the Rodes is a' in flame,
+    I hauld it time to ga'.
+
+  O then bespyed hir ain dear lord,
+    As hee cam owr the lee;
+  He sied his castle all in blaze
+     Sa far as he could see.
+
+  Then sair, O sair his mind misgave,
+    And all his hart was wae;
+  Put on, put on, my wighty men,
+    So fast as ze can gae.
+
+  Put on, put on, my wighty men,
+    Sa fast as ze can drie;
+  For he that is hindmost of the thrang
+    Sall neir get guid o' me.
+
+  Than sum they rade, and sum they rin,
+    Fou fast out-owr the bent;
+  But eir the foremost could get up,
+    Baith lady and babes were brent.
+
+  He wrang his hands, he rent his hair,
+    And wept in teenefu' muid:
+  O traitors, for this cruel deid
+    Ze sall weep tiers o' bluid.
+
+  And after the Gordon he is gane,
+    Sa fast as he might drie.
+  And soon i' the Gordon's foul hartis bluid
+    He's wroken his dear ladie.
+
+
+[Illustration: Edom O' Gordon tailpiece]
+
+
+
+
+CHEVY CHACE
+
+[Illustration: Chevy Chace headpiece]
+
+
+  God prosper long our noble king,
+    Our lives and safetyes all;
+  A woefull hunting once there did
+    In Chevy-Chace befall;
+
+  To drive the deere with hound and horne,
+    Erle Percy took his way,
+  The child may rue that is unborne,
+    The hunting of that day.
+
+  The stout Erle of Northumberland
+    A vow to God did make,
+  His pleasure in the Scottish woods
+    Three summers days to take;
+
+  The cheefest harts in Chevy-chace
+    To kill and beare away.
+  These tydings to Erle Douglas came,
+    In Scotland where he lay:
+
+  Who sent Erle Percy present word,
+    He wold prevent his sport.
+  The English erle, not fearing that,
+    Did to the woods resort
+
+  With fifteen hundred bow-men bold;
+    All chosen men of might,
+  Who knew full well in time of neede
+    To ayme their shafts arright.
+
+  The galland greyhounds swiftly ran,
+    To chase the fallow deere:
+  On munday they began to hunt,
+    Ere day-light did appeare;
+
+  And long before high noone they had
+    An hundred fat buckes slaine;
+  Then having dined, the drovyers went
+    To rouze the deare againe.
+
+  The bow-men mustered on the hills,
+    Well able to endure;
+  Theire backsides all, with speciall care,
+    That day were guarded sure.
+
+  The hounds ran swiftly through the woods,
+    The nimble deere to take,
+  That with their cryes the hills and dales
+    An eccho shrill did make.
+
+  Lord Percy to the quarry went,
+    To view the slaughter'd deere;
+  Quoth he, Erle Douglas promised
+    This day to meet me heere:
+
+  But if I thought he wold not come,
+    Noe longer wold I stay.
+  With that, a brave younge gentleman
+    Thus to the Erle did say:
+
+  Loe, yonder doth Erle Douglas come,
+    His men in armour bright;
+  Full twenty hundred Scottish speres
+    All marching in our sight;
+
+  All men of pleasant Tivydale,
+    Fast by the river Tweede:
+  O cease your sports, Erle Percy said,
+    And take your bowes with speede:
+
+  And now with me, my countrymen,
+    Your courage forth advance;
+  For there was never champion yett,
+    In Scotland nor in France,
+
+  That ever did on horsebacke come,
+    But if my hap it were,
+  I durst encounter man for man,
+    With him to break a spere.
+
+  Erle Douglas on his milke-white steede,
+    Most like a baron bolde,
+  Rode foremost of his company,
+    Whose armour shone like gold.
+
+  Show me, sayd hee, whose men you bee,
+    That hunt soe boldly heere,
+  That, without my consent, doe chase
+    And kill my fallow-deere.
+
+  The first man that did answer make
+    Was noble Percy hee;
+  Who sayd, Wee list not to declare,
+    Nor shew whose men wee bee:
+
+  Yet wee will spend our deerest blood,
+    Thy cheefest harts to slay.
+  Then Douglas swore a solempne oathe,
+    And thus in rage did say,
+
+  Ere thus I will out-braved bee,
+    One of us two shall dye:
+  I know thee well, an erle thou art;
+    Lord Percy, soe am I.
+
+  But trust me, Percy, pittye it were,
+    And great offence to kill
+  Any of these our guiltlesse men,
+    For they have done no ill.
+
+  Let thou and I the battell trye,
+    And set our men aside.
+  Accurst bee he, Erle Percy sayd,
+    By whome this is denyed.
+
+  Then stept a gallant squier forth,
+    Witherington was his name,
+  Who said, I wold not have it told
+    To Henry our king for shame,
+
+  That ere my captaine fought on foote,
+    And I stood looking on.
+  You be two erles, sayd Witherington,
+    And I a squier alone:
+
+  He doe the best that doe I may,
+    While I have power to stand:
+  While I have power to weeld my sword
+    He fight with hart and hand.
+
+  Our English archers bent their bowes,
+    Their harts were good and trew;
+  Att the first flight of arrowes sent,
+    Full four-score Scots they slew.
+
+  Yet bides Earl Douglas on the bent,
+    As Chieftain stout and good.
+  As valiant Captain, all unmov'd
+    The shock he firmly stood.
+
+  His host he parted had in three,
+    As Leader ware and try'd,
+  And soon his spearmen on their foes
+    Bare down on every side.
+
+  To drive the deere with hound and horne,
+    Douglas bade on the bent
+  Two captaines moved with mickle might
+    Their speres to shivers went.
+
+  Throughout the English archery
+    They dealt full many a wound:
+  But still our valiant Englishmen
+    All firmly kept their ground:
+
+  And throwing strait their bows away,
+    They grasp'd their swords so bright:
+  And now sharp blows, a heavy shower,
+    On shields and helmets light.
+
+  They closed full fast on every side,
+    Noe slackness there was found:
+  And many a gallant gentleman
+    Lay gasping on the ground.
+
+  O Christ! it was a griefe to see;
+    And likewise for to heare,
+  The cries of men lying in their gore,
+    And scattered here and there.
+
+  At last these two stout erles did meet,
+    Like captaines of great might:
+  Like lyons wood, they layd on lode,
+    And made a cruell fight:
+
+  They fought untill they both did sweat,
+    With swords of tempered steele;
+  Untill the blood, like drops of rain,
+    They tricklin downe did feele.
+
+  Yeeld thee, Lord Percy, Douglas sayd
+    In faith I will thee bringe,
+  Where thou shalt high advanced bee
+    By James our Scottish king:
+
+  Thy ransome I will freely give,
+    And this report of thee,
+  Thou art the most couragious knight,
+    That ever I did see.
+
+  Noe, Douglas, quoth Erle Percy then,
+    Thy proffer I doe scorne;
+  I will not yeelde to any Scott,
+    That ever yett was borne.
+
+  With that, there came an arrow keene
+    Out of an English bow,
+  Which struck Erle Douglas to the heart,
+    A deepe and deadlye blow:
+
+  Who never spake more words than these,
+    Fight on, my merry men all;
+  For why, my life is at an end;
+    Lord Percy sees my fall.
+
+  Then leaving liffe, Erie Percy tooke
+    The dead man by the hand;
+  And said, Erle Douglas, for thy life
+    Wold I had lost my land.
+
+  O Christ! my verry hart doth bleed
+    With sorrow for thy sake;
+  For sure, a more redoubted knight
+    Mischance cold never take.
+
+  A knight amongst the Scotts there was
+    Which saw Erle Douglas dye,
+  Who streight in wrath did vow revenge
+    Upon the Lord Percye:
+
+  Sir Hugh Mountgomery was he call'd,
+    Who, with a spere most bright,
+  Well-mounted on a gallant steed,
+    Ran fiercely through the fight;
+
+  And past the English archers all,
+    Without all dread or feare;
+  And through Earl Percyes body then
+    He thrust his hatefull spere;
+
+  With such a vehement force and might
+    He did his body gore,
+  The staff ran through the other side
+    A large cloth-yard and more.
+
+  So thus did both these nobles dye,
+    Whose courage none could staine:
+  An English archer then perceiv'd
+    The noble erle was slaine;
+
+  He had a bow bent in his hand,
+    Made of a trusty tree;
+  An arrow of a cloth-yard long
+    Up to the head drew hee:
+
+  Against Sir Hugh Mountgomerye,
+    So right the shaft he sett,
+  The grey goose-winge that was thereon,
+    In his harts bloode was wette.
+
+  This fight did last from breake of day,
+    Till setting of the sun;
+  For when they rang the evening-bell,
+    The battel scarce was done.
+
+  With stout Erle Percy there was slaine
+    Sir John of Egerton,
+  Sir Robert Ratcliff, and Sir John,
+    Sir James that bold barròn:
+
+  And with Sir George and stout Sir James,
+    Both knights of good account,
+  Good Sir Ralph Raby there was slaine,
+    Whose prowesse did surmount.
+
+  For Witherington needs must I wayle,
+    As one in doleful dumpes;
+  For when his leggs were smitten off,
+    He fought upon his stumpes.
+
+  And with Erle Douglas, there was slaine
+    Sir Hugh Montgomerye,
+  Sir Charles Murray, that from the feeld
+    One foote wold never flee.
+
+  Sir Charles Murray, of Ratcliff, too,
+    His sisters sonne was hee;
+  Sir David Lamb, so well esteem'd,
+    Yet saved cold not bee.
+
+  And the Lord Maxwell in like case
+    Did with Erle Douglas dye:
+  Of twenty hundred Scottish speres,
+    Scarce fifty-five did flye.
+
+  Of fifteen hundred Englishmen,
+    Went home but fifty-three;
+  The rest were slaine in Chevy-Chace,
+    Under the greene woode tree.
+
+  Next day did many widowes come,
+    Their husbands to bewayle;
+  They washt their wounds in brinish teares,
+    But all wold not prevayle.
+
+  Theyr bodyes, bathed in purple gore,
+    They bare with them away:
+  They kist them dead a thousand times,
+    Ere they were cladd in clay.
+
+  The news was brought to Eddenborrow,
+    Where Scottlands king did raigne,
+  That brave Erle Douglas suddenlye
+    Was with an arrow slaine:
+
+  O heavy newes, King James did say,
+    Scotland may witnesse bee,
+  I have not any captaine more
+    Of such account as hee.
+
+  Like tydings to King Henry came,
+    Within as short a space,
+  That Percy of Northumberland
+    Was slaine in Chevy-Chace:
+
+  Now God be with him, said our king,
+    Sith it will noe better bee;
+  I trust I have, within my realme,
+    Five hundred as good as hee:
+
+  Yett shall not Scotts nor Scotland say,
+    But I will vengeance take:
+  I'll be revenged on them all,
+    For brave Erle Percyes sake.
+
+  This vow full well the king perform'd
+    After, at Humbledowne;
+  In one day, fifty knights were slayne,
+    With lords of great renowne:
+
+  And of the rest, of small acount,
+    Did many thousands dye:
+  Thus endeth the hunting of Chevy-Chase,
+    Made by the Erle Percy.
+
+  God save our king, and bless this land
+    With plenty, joy, and peace;
+  And grant henceforth, that foule debate
+    'Twixt noblemen may cease.
+
+[Illustration: Chevy Chace tailpiece]
+
+
+
+SIR LANCELOT DU LAKE
+
+[Illustration: Sir Lancelot Du Lake headpiece]
+
+
+  When Arthur first in court began,
+    And was approved king,
+   By force of armes great victorys wanne,
+  And conquest home did bring,
+
+  Then into England straight he came
+    With fifty good and able
+  Knights, that resorted unto him,
+    And were of his round table:
+
+  And he had justs and turnaments,
+    Whereto were many prest,
+  Wherein some knights did far excell
+    And eke surmount the rest.
+
+  But one Sir Lancelot du Lake,
+    Who was approved well,
+  He for his deeds and feats of armes
+    All others did excell.
+
+  When he had rested him a while,
+    In play, and game, and sportt,
+  He said he wold goe prove himselfe
+    In some adventurous sort.
+
+  He armed rode in a forrest wide,
+    And met a damsell faire,
+  Who told him of adventures great,
+    Whereto he gave great eare.
+
+  Such wold I find, quoth Lancelott:
+    For that cause came I hither.
+  Thou seemest, quoth shee, a knight full good,
+    And I will bring thee thither.
+
+  Wheras a mighty knight doth dwell,
+    That now is of great fame:
+  Therefore tell me what wight thou art,
+    And what may be thy name.
+
+  "My name is Lancelot du Lake."
+    Quoth she, it likes me than:
+  Here dwelles a knight who never was
+    Yet matcht with any man:
+
+  Who has in prison threescore knights
+    And four, that he did wound;
+  Knights of King Arthurs court they be,
+    And of his table round.
+
+  She brought him to a river side,
+    And also to a tree,
+  Whereon a copper bason hung,
+    And many shields to see.
+
+  He struck soe hard, the bason broke;
+    And Tarquin soon he spyed:
+  Who drove a horse before him fast,
+    Whereon a knight lay tyed.
+
+  Sir knight, then sayd Sir Lancelett,
+    Bring me that horse-load hither,
+  And lay him downe, and let him rest;
+    Weel try our force together:
+
+  For, as I understand, thou hast,
+    So far as thou art able,
+  Done great despite and shame unto
+    The knights of the Round Table.
+
+  If thou be of the Table Round,
+    Quoth Tarquin speedilye,
+  Both thee and all thy fellowship
+    I utterly defye.
+
+  That's over much, quoth Lancelott tho,
+    Defend thee by and by.
+  They sett their speares unto their steeds,
+    And eache att other flie.
+
+  They coucht theire speares (their horses ran,
+    As though there had beene thunder),
+  And strucke them each immidst their shields,
+    Wherewith they broke in sunder.
+
+  Their horsses backes brake under them,
+    The knights were both astound:
+  To avoyd their horsses they made haste
+    And light upon the ground.
+
+  They tooke them to their shields full fast,
+    Their swords they drewe out than,
+  With mighty strokes most eagerlye
+    Each at the other ran.
+
+  They wounded were, and bled full sore,
+    They both for breath did stand,
+  And leaning on their swords awhile,
+    Quoth Tarquine, Hold thy hand,
+
+  And tell to me what I shall aske.
+    Say on, quoth Lancelot tho.
+  Thou art, quoth Tarquine, the best knight
+    That ever I did know:
+
+  And like a knight, that I did hate:
+    Soe that thou be not hee,
+  I will deliver all the rest,
+    And eke accord with thee.
+
+  That is well said, quoth Lancelott;
+    But sith it must be soe,
+  What knight is that thou hatest thus
+    I pray thee to me show.
+
+  His name is Lancelot du Lake,
+    He slew my brother deere;
+  Him I suspect of all the rest:
+    I would I had him here.
+
+  Thy wish thou hast, but yet unknowne,
+    I am Lancelot du Lake,
+  Now knight of Arthurs Table Round;
+    King Hauds son of Schuwake;
+
+  And I desire thee to do thy worst.
+    Ho, ho, quoth Tarquin tho'
+  One of us two shall ende our lives
+    Before that we do go.
+
+  If thou be Lancelot du Lake,
+    Then welcome shalt thou bee:
+  Wherfore see thou thyself defend,
+    For now defye I thee.
+
+  They buckled them together so,
+    Like unto wild boares rashing;
+  And with their swords and shields they ran
+    At one another slashing:
+
+  The ground besprinkled was with blood:
+    Tarquin began to yield;
+  For he gave backe for wearinesse,
+    And lowe did beare his shield.
+
+  This soone Sir Lancelot espyde,
+    He leapt upon him then,
+  He pull'd him downe upon his knee,
+    And rushing off his helm,
+
+  Forthwith he strucke his necke in two,
+    And, when he had soe done,
+  From prison threescore knights and four
+    Delivered everye one.
+
+
+
+
+GIL MORRICE
+
+[Illustration: Gil Morrice headpiece]
+
+
+[Illustration: Gil Morrice]
+
+  Gil Morrice was an erles son,
+     His name it waxed wide;
+    It was nae for his great riches,
+  Nor zet his mickle pride;
+  Bot it was for a lady gay,
+    That livd on Carron side.
+
+  Quhair sail 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 sail 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 sall 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.
+
+  Gae bid hir take this gay mantel,
+    'Tis a' gowd hot 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 sail 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 he came to grass growing,
+    Set down his feet and ran.
+
+  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.
+
+  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.
+
+  And there it is, a silken sarke,
+    Your ain hand sewd the sleive;
+  Ze maun gae speik to Gill Morice:
+    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 Morice,
+    It's deir welcum to mee.
+
+  Ze leid, ze leid, ze filthy nurse,
+    Sae loud I heird zee 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 'mazer' 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.
+
+  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 Minerva's 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.
+
+  The baron came to the grene wode,
+    Wi' mickle dule and care,
+  And there he first spied Gill Morice
+    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 despair.
+
+  Nae wonder, nae wonder, Gill Morìce,
+    My lady loed thee weel,
+  The fairest part of my bodie
+    Is blacker than thy heel.
+  Zet neir the less now, Gill Morìce,
+    For a' thy great beautiè,
+  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's 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.
+
+  Far better I loe that bluidy head,
+    Both 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.
+
+  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;
+  But 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.
+
+  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.
+
+  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 been 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 winsome 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 mine ain;
+  I'll neir forget the dreiry day
+    On which the zouth was slain.
+
+
+[Illustration: Gil Morrice tailpiece]
+
+
+
+
+THE CHILD of ELLE
+
+[Illustration: The Child of Elle headpiece]
+
+
+  On yondre hill a castle standes
+    With walles and towres bedight,
+   And yonder lives the Child of Elle,
+  A younge and comely knighte.
+
+  The Child of Elle to his garden went,
+    And stood at his garden pale,
+  Whan, lo! he beheld fair Emmelines page
+    Come trippinge downe the dale.
+
+  The Child of Elle he hyed him thence,
+    Y-wis he stoode not stille,
+  And soone he mette faire Emmelines page
+    Come climbinge up the hille.
+
+  Nowe Christe thee save, thou little foot-page,
+    Now Christe thee save and see!
+  Oh telle me how does thy ladye gaye,
+    And what may thy tydinges bee?
+
+  My ladye shee is all woe-begone,
+    And the teares they falle from her eyne;
+  And aye she laments the deadlye feude
+    Betweene her house and thine.
+
+  And here shee sends thee a silken scarfe
+    Bedewde with many a teare,
+  And biddes thee sometimes thinke on her,
+    Who loved thee so deare.
+
+  And here shee sends thee a ring of golde
+    The last boone thou mayst have,
+  And biddes thee weare it for her sake,
+    Whan she is layde in grave.
+
+  For, ah! her gentle heart is broke,
+    And in grave soone must shee bee,
+  Sith her father hath chose her a new new love,
+    And forbidde her to think of thee.
+
+  Her father hath brought her a carlish knight,
+    Sir John of the north countràye,
+  And within three dayes she must him wedde,
+    Or he vowes he will her slaye.
+
+  Nowe hye thee backe, thou little foot-page,
+    And greet thy ladye from mee,
+  And telle her that I her owne true love
+    Will dye, or sette her free.
+
+  Nowe hye thee backe, thou little foot-page,
+    And let thy fair ladye know
+  This night will I bee at her bowre-windòwe,
+    Betide me weale or woe.
+
+  The boye he tripped, the boye he ranne,
+    He neither stint ne stayd
+  Untill he came to fair Emmelines bowre,
+    Whan kneeling downe he sayd,
+
+  O ladye, I've been with thine own true love,
+    And he greets thee well by mee;
+  This night will hee bee at thy bowre-windòwe,
+    And dye or sett thee free.
+
+  Nowe daye was gone, and night was come,
+    And all were fast asleepe,
+  All save the Ladye Emmeline,
+    Who sate in her bowre to weepe:
+
+  And soone shee heard her true loves voice
+    Lowe whispering at the walle,
+  Awake, awake, my deare ladyè,
+    Tis I thy true love call.
+
+  Awake, awake, my ladye deare,
+    Come, mount this faire palfràye:
+  This ladder of ropes will lette thee downe
+    He carrye thee hence awaye.
+
+  Nowe nay, nowe nay, thou gentle knight,
+    Nowe nay, this may not bee;
+  For aye shold I tint my maiden fame,
+    If alone I should wend with thee.
+
+  O ladye, thou with a knighte so true
+    Mayst safelye wend alone,
+  To my ladye mother I will thee bringe,
+    Where marriage shall make us one.
+
+  "My father he is a baron bolde,
+    Of lynage proude and hye;
+  And what would he saye if his daughtèr
+    Awaye with a knight should fly
+
+  "Ah! well I wot, he never would rest,
+    Nor his meate should doe him no goode,
+  Until he hath slayne thee, Child of Elle,
+    And scene thy deare hearts bloode."
+
+  O ladye, wert thou in thy saddle sette,
+    And a little space him fro,
+  I would not care for thy cruel fathèr,
+    Nor the worst that he could doe.
+
+  O ladye, wert thou in thy saddle sette,
+    And once without this walle,
+  I would not care for thy cruel fathèr
+    Nor the worst that might befalle.
+
+  Faire Emmeline sighed, fair Emmeline wept,
+    And aye her heart was woe:
+  At length he seized her lilly-white hand,
+    And downe the ladder he drewe:
+
+  And thrice he clasped her to his breste,
+    And kist her tenderlìe:
+  The teares that fell from her fair eyes
+    Ranne like the fountayne free.
+
+  Hee mounted himselfe on his steede so talle,
+    And her on a fair palfràye,
+  And slung his bugle about his necke,
+    And roundlye they rode awaye.
+
+  All this beheard her owne damsèlle,
+    In her bed whereas shee ley,
+  Quoth shee, My lord shall knowe of this,
+    Soe I shall have golde and fee.
+
+  Awake, awake, thou baron bolde!
+    Awake, my noble dame!
+  Your daughter is fledde with the Child of Elle
+    To doe the deede of shame.
+
+  The baron he woke, the baron he rose,
+    And called his merrye men all:
+  "And come thou forth, Sir John the knighte,
+    Thy ladye is carried to thrall."
+
+  Faire Emmeline scant had ridden a mile,
+    A mile forth of the towne,
+  When she was aware of her fathers men
+    Come galloping over the downe:
+
+  And foremost came the carlish knight,
+    Sir John of the north countràye:
+  "Nowe stop, nowe stop, thou false traitòure,
+    Nor carry that ladye awaye.
+
+  "For she is come of hye lineàge,
+    And was of a ladye borne,
+  And ill it beseems thee, a false churl's sonne,
+    To carrye her hence to scorne."
+
+  Nowe loud thou lyest, Sir John the knight,
+    Nowe thou doest lye of mee;
+  A knight mee gott, and a ladye me bore,
+    Soe never did none by thee
+
+  But light nowe downe, my ladye faire,
+    Light downe, and hold my steed,
+  While I and this discourteous knighte
+    Doe trye this arduous deede.
+
+  But light now downe, my deare ladyè,
+    Light downe, and hold my horse;
+  While I and this discourteous knight
+    Doe trye our valour's force.
+
+  Fair Emmeline sighed, fair Emmeline wept,
+    And aye her heart was woe,
+  While twixt her love and the carlish knight
+    Past many a baleful blowe.
+
+  The Child of Elle hee fought so well,
+    As his weapon he waved amaine,
+  That soone he had slaine the carlish knight,
+    And layd him upon the plaine.
+
+  And nowe the baron and all his men
+    Full fast approached nye:
+  Ah! what may ladye Emmeline doe
+    Twere nowe no boote to flye.
+
+  Her lover he put his horne to his mouth,
+    And blew both loud and shrill,
+  And soone he saw his owne merry men
+    Come ryding over the hill.
+
+  "Nowe hold thy hand, thou bold baròn,
+    I pray thee hold thy hand,
+  Nor ruthless rend two gentle hearts
+    Fast knit in true love's band.
+
+  Thy daughter I have dearly loved
+    Full long and many a day;
+  But with such love as holy kirke
+    Hath freelye sayd wee may.
+
+  O give consent, shee may be mine,
+    And blesse a faithfull paire:
+  My lands and livings are not small,
+    My house and lineage faire:
+
+  My mother she was an earl's daughtèr,
+    And a noble knyght my sire--
+  The baron he frowned, and turn'd away
+    With mickle dole and ire.
+
+  Fair Emmeline sighed, faire Emmeline wept,
+    And did all tremblinge stand:
+  At lengthe she sprang upon her knee,
+    And held his lifted hand.
+
+  Pardon, my lorde and father deare,
+    This faire yong knyght and mee:
+  Trust me, but for the carlish knyght,
+    I never had fled from thee.
+
+  Oft have you called your Emmeline
+    Your darling and your joye;
+  O let not then your harsh resolves
+    Your Emmeline destroye.
+
+  The baron he stroakt his dark-brown cheeke,
+    And turned his heade asyde
+  To whipe awaye the starting teare
+    He proudly strave to hyde.
+
+  In deepe revolving thought he stoode,
+    And mused a little space;
+  Then raised faire Emmeline from the grounde,
+    With many a fond embrace.
+
+  Here take her, Child of Elle, he sayd,
+    And gave her lillye white hand;
+  Here take my deare and only child,
+    And with her half my land:
+
+  Thy father once mine honour wrongde
+    In dayes of youthful pride;
+  Do thou the injurye repayre
+    In fondnesse for thy bride.
+
+  And as thou love her, and hold her deare,
+    Heaven prosper thee and thine:
+  And nowe my blessing wend wi' thee,
+    My lovelye Emmeline.
+
+[Illustration: The Child of Elle tailpiece]
+
+
+
+
+CHILD WATERS
+
+[Illustration: The Child Waters headpiece]
+
+
+[Illustration: The Child Waters]
+
+
+  Childe Waters in his stable stoode
+    And stroakt his milke white steede:
+  To him a fayre yonge ladye came
+    As ever ware womans weede.
+
+  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.
+
+  And all is with one chyld of yours,
+    I feel sturre att my side:
+  My gowne of greene it is too straighte;
+    Before, it was too wide.
+
+  If the child 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.
+
+  If the childe be mine, fair Ellen, he sayd,
+    Be mine, as you doe sweare;
+  Then take you Cheshire and Lancashire both,
+    And make that child your heyre.
+
+  Shee saies, I had rather have one kisse,
+    Child Waters, of thy mouth;
+  Than I wolde have Cheshire and Lancashire both,
+    That laye by north and south.
+
+  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.
+
+  To morrow, Ellen, I must forth ryde
+    Farr into the north countrie;
+  The fairest lady that I can find,
+    Ellen, must goe with mee.
+
+  'Thoughe I am not that lady fayre,
+    'Yet let me go with thee:'
+  And ever I pray you, Child Watèrs,
+    Your foot-page let me bee.
+
+  If you will my foot-page be, Ellen,
+    As you doe tell to mee;
+  Then you must cut your gowne of greene,
+    An inch above your knee:
+
+  Soe must you doe your yellow lockes,
+    An inch above your ee:
+  You must tell no man what is my name;
+    My foot-page then you shall bee.
+
+  Shee, all the long day Child Waters rode,
+    Ran barefoote by his side;
+  Yett was he never soe courteous a knighte,
+    To say, Ellen, will you ryde?
+
+  Shee, all the long day Child Waters rode,
+    Ran barefoote thorow the broome;
+  Yett hee was never soe curteous a knighte,
+    To say, put on your shoone.
+
+  Ride softlye, shee sayd, O Childe Waters,
+    Why doe you ryde soe fast?
+  The childe, which is no mans but thine,
+    My bodye itt will brast.
+
+  Hee sayth, seeth thou yonder water, Ellen,
+    That flows from bank to brimme?--
+  I trust to God, O Child Waters,
+    You never will see mee swimme.
+
+  But when shee came to the waters side,
+    Shee sayled to the chinne:
+  Except the Lord of heaven be my speed,
+    Now must I learne to swimme.
+
+  The salt waters bare up her clothes;
+    Our Ladye bare upp her chinne:
+  Childe Waters was a woe man, good Lord,
+    To see faire Ellen swimme.
+
+  And when shee over the water was,
+    Shee then came to his knee:
+  He said, Come hither, thou fair Ellèn,
+    Loe yonder what I see.
+
+  Seest thou not yonder hall, Ellen?
+    Of redd gold shines the yate;
+  Of twenty foure faire ladyes there,
+    The fairest is my mate.
+
+  Seest thou not yonder hall, Ellen?
+    Of redd gold shines the towre:
+  There are twenty four fair ladyes there,
+    The fairest is my paramoure.
+
+  I see the hall now, Child Waters,
+    Of redd golde shines the yate:
+  God give you good now of yourselfe,
+    And of your worthye mate.
+
+  I see the hall now, Child Waters,
+    Of redd gold shines the towre:
+  God give you good now of yourselfe,
+    And of your paramoure.
+
+  There twenty four fayre ladyes were
+    A playing att the ball:
+  And Ellen the fairest 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 gresse.
+
+  And then bespake Childe Waters sister,
+    These were the wordes said shee:
+  You have the prettyest foot-page, brother,
+    That ever I saw with mine ee.
+
+  But that his bellye it is soe bigg,
+    His girdle goes wonderous hie:
+  And let him, I pray you, Childe Watères,
+    Goe into the chamber with mee.
+
+  It is not fit for a little foot-page,
+    That has run throughe mosse and myre,
+  To go into the chamber with any ladye,
+    That weares soe riche attyre.
+
+  It is more meete for a litle foot-page,
+    That has run throughe mosse and myre,
+  To take his supper upon his knee,
+    And sitt downe by the kitchen fyer.
+
+  But 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.
+
+  Goe thee downe into yonder towne,
+    And low into the street;
+  The fayrest ladye that thou can finde,
+
+    Hyer her in mine armes to sleepe,
+  And take her up in thine armes twaine,
+    For filinge of her feete.
+
+  Ellen is gone into the towne,
+    And low into the streete:
+  The fairest ladye that she cold find,
+    Shee hyred in his armes to sleepe;
+  And tooke her up in her armes twayne,
+    For filing of her feete.
+
+  I pray you nowe, good Child Watèrs,
+    Let mee lye at your bedds 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,
+
+  Hee sayd, Rise up, my litle foot-page,
+    Give my steede corne and haye;
+  And soe doe thou the good black oats,
+    To carry mee better awaye.
+
+  Up then rose the faire Ellèn,
+    And gave his steede corne and hay:
+  And soe shee did the good blacke oats,
+    To carry him the better away.
+
+  Shee leaned her backe to the manger side,
+    And grievouslye did groane:
+  Shee leaned her backe to the manger side,
+    And there shee made her moane.
+
+  And that beheard his mother deere,
+    Shee heard her there monand.
+  Shee sayd, Rise up, thou Childe Watèrs,
+    I think thee a cursed man.
+
+  For in thy stable is a ghost,
+    That grievouslye doth grone:
+  Or else some woman laboures of childe,
+    She is soe woe-begone.
+
+  Up then rose Childe Waters soon,
+    And did on his shirte of silke;
+  And then he put on his other clothes,
+    On his body as white as milke.
+
+  And when he came to the stable dore,
+    Full still there he did stand,
+  That hee mighte heare his fayre Ellèn
+    Howe shee made her monànd.
+
+  Shee sayd, Lullabye, mine owne deere child,
+    Lullabye, dere child, dere;
+  I wold thy father were a king,
+    Thy mother layd on a biere.
+
+  Peace now, he said, good faire Ellèn,
+    Be of good cheere, I praye;
+  And the bridal and the churching both
+    Shall bee upon one day.
+
+
+
+KING EDWARD IV & THE TANNER OF TAMWORTH
+
+[Illustration: King Edward IV headpiece]
+
+
+  In summer time, when leaves grow greene,
+     And blossoms bedecke the tree,
+  King Edward wolde a hunting ryde,
+    Some pastime for to see.
+
+  With hawke and hounde he made him bowne,
+    With horne, and eke with bowe;
+  To Drayton Basset he tooke his waye,
+    With all his lordes a rowe.
+
+  And he had ridden ore dale and downe
+    By eight of clocke in the day,
+  When he was ware of a bold tannèr,
+    Come ryding along the waye.
+
+  A fayre russet coat the tanner had on
+    Fast buttoned under his chin,
+  And under him a good cow-hide,
+    And a marc of four shilling.
+
+  Nowe stand you still, my good lordes all,
+    Under the grene wood spraye;
+  And I will wend to yonder fellowe,
+    To weet what he will saye.
+
+  God speede, God speede thee, said our king.
+    Thou art welcome, Sir, sayd hee.
+  "The readyest waye to Drayton Basset
+    I praye thee to shew to mee."
+
+  "To Drayton Basset woldst thou goe,
+    Fro the place where thou dost stand?
+  The next payre of gallowes thou comest unto,
+    Turne in upon thy right hand."
+
+  That is an unreadye waye, sayd our king,
+    Thou doest but jest, I see;
+  Nowe shewe me out the nearest waye,
+    And I pray thee wend with mee.
+
+  Away with a vengeance! quoth the tanner:
+    I hold thee out of thy witt:
+  All daye have I rydden on Brocke my mare,
+    And I am fasting yett.
+
+  "Go with me downe to Drayton Basset,
+    No daynties we will spare;
+  All daye shalt thou eate and drinke of the best,
+    And I will paye thy fare."
+
+  Gramercye for nothing, the tanner replyde,
+    Thou payest no fare of mine:
+  I trowe I've more nobles in my purse,
+    Than thou hast pence in thine.
+
+  God give thee joy of them, sayd the king,
+    And send them well to priefe.
+  The tanner wolde faine have beene away,
+    For he weende he had beene a thiefe.
+
+  What art thou, hee sayde, thou fine fellowe,
+    Of thee I am in great feare,
+  For the clothes, thou wearest upon thy back,
+    Might beseeme a lord to weare.
+
+  I never stole them, quoth our king,
+    I tell you, Sir, by the roode.
+  "Then thou playest, as many an unthrift doth,
+    And standest in midds of thy goode."
+
+  What tydinges heare you, sayd the kynge,
+    As you ryde farre and neare?
+  "I heare no tydinges, Sir, by the masse,
+    But that cowe-hides are deare."
+
+  "Cow-hides! cow-hides! what things are those?
+     I marvell what they bee?"
+  What, art thou a foole? the tanner reply'd;
+    I carry one under mee.
+
+  What craftsman art thou, said the king,
+    I pray thee tell me trowe.
+  "I am a barker, Sir, by my trade;
+    Nowe tell me what art thou?"
+
+  I am a poor courtier, Sir, quoth he,
+    That am forth of service worne;
+  And faine I wolde thy prentise bee,
+    Thy cunninge for to learne.
+
+  Marrye heaven forfend, the tanner replyde,
+    That thou my prentise were:
+  Thou woldst spend more good than I shold winne
+    By fortye shilling a yere.
+
+  Yet one thinge wolde I, sayd our king,
+    If thou wilt not seeme strange:
+  Thoughe my horse be better than thy mare,
+    Yet with thee I fain wold change.
+
+  "Why if with me thou faine wilt change,
+    As change full well maye wee,
+  By the faith of my bodye, thou proude fellowe
+    I will have some boot of thee."
+
+  That were against reason, sayd the king,
+    I sweare, so mote I thee:
+  My horse is better than thy mare,
+    And that thou well mayst see.
+
+  "Yea, Sir, but Brocke is gentle and mild,
+    And softly she will fare:
+  Thy horse is unrulye and wild, I wiss;
+    Aye skipping here and theare."
+
+  What boote wilt thou have? our king reply'd;
+    Now tell me in this stound.
+  "Noe pence, nor halfpence, by my faye,
+    But a noble in gold so round.
+
+  "Here's twentye groates of white moneye,
+    Sith thou will have it of mee."
+  I would have sworne now, quoth the tanner,
+    Thou hadst not had one pennie.
+
+  But since we two have made a change,
+    A change we must abide,
+  Although thou hast gotten Brocke my mare,
+    Thou gettest not my cowe-hide.
+
+  I will not have it, sayd the kynge,
+    I sweare, so mought I thee;
+  Thy foule cowe-hide I wolde not beare,
+    If thou woldst give it to mee.
+
+  The tanner hee tooke his good cowe-hide,
+    That of the cow was bilt;
+  And threwe it upon the king's sadelle,
+    That was soe fayrelye gilte.
+  "Now help me up, thou fine fellowe,
+    'Tis time that I were gone:
+  When I come home to Gyllian my wife,
+    Sheel say I am a gentilmon."
+
+  The king he tooke him up by the legge;
+    The tanner a f----- lett fall.
+  Nowe marrye, good fellowe, sayd the king,
+    Thy courtesye is but small.
+
+  When the tanner he was in the kinges sadèlle,
+    And his foote in the stirrup was;
+  He marvelled greatlye in his minde,
+    Whether it were golde or brass.
+
+  But when the steede saw the cows taile wagge,
+    And eke the blacke cowe-horne;
+  He stamped, and stared, and awaye he ranne,
+    As the devill had him borne.
+
+  The tanner he pulld, the tanner he sweat,
+    And held by the pummil fast:
+  At length the tanner came tumbling downe;
+    His necke he had well-nye brast.
+
+  Take thy horse again with a vengeance, he sayd,
+    With mee he shall not byde.
+  "My horse wolde have borne thee well enoughe,
+    But he knewe not of thy cowe-hide.
+
+  Yet if againe thou faine woldst change,
+    As change full well may wee,
+  By the faith of my bodye, thou jolly tannèr,
+    I will have some boote of thee."
+
+  What boote wilt thou have? the tanner replyd,
+    Nowe tell me in this stounde.
+  "Noe pence nor halfpence, Sir, by my faye,
+    But I will have twentye pound."
+
+  "Here's twentye groates out of my purse;
+    And twentye I have of thine:
+  And I have one more, which we will spend
+    Together at the wine."
+
+  The king set a bugle home to his mouthe,
+    And blewe both loude and shrille:
+  And soone came lords, and soone came knights,
+    Fast ryding over the hille.
+
+  Nowe, out alas! the tanner he cryde,
+    That ever I sawe this daye!
+  Thou art a strong thiefe, yon come thy fellowes
+    Will beare my cowe-hide away.
+
+  They are no thieves, the king replyde,
+    I sweare, soe mote I thee:
+  But they are the lords of the north countrèy,
+    Here come to hunt with mee.
+
+  And soone before our king they came,
+    And knelt downe on the grounde:
+  Then might the tanner have beene awaye,
+    He had lever than twentye pounde.
+
+  A coller, a coller, here: sayd the king,
+    A coller he loud gan crye:
+  Then woulde he lever than twentye pound,
+    He had not beene so nighe.
+
+  A coller, a coller, the tanner he sayd,
+    I trowe it will breed sorrowe:
+  After a coller cometh a halter,
+    I trow I shall be hang'd to-morrowe.
+
+  Be not afraid, tanner, said our king;
+    I tell thee, so mought I thee,
+  Lo here I make thee the best esquire
+    That is in the North countrie.
+
+  For Plumpton-parke I will give thee,
+    With tenements faire beside:
+  'Tis worth three hundred markes by the yeare,
+    To maintaine thy good cowe-hide.
+
+  Gramercye, my liege, the tanner replyde,
+    For the favour thou hast me showne;
+  If ever thou comest to merry Tamwòrth,
+    Neates leather shall clout thy shoen.
+
+
+[Illustration: King Edward IV tailpiece]
+
+
+
+
+SIR PATRICK SPENS
+
+[Illustration: Sir Patrick Spens headpiece]
+
+
+  The king sits in Dumferling toune,
+    Drinking the blude-reid wine:
+  O quhar will I get guid sailòr,
+    To sail this schip of mine.
+
+  Up and spak an eldern knicht,
+    Sat at the kings richt kne:
+  Sir Patrick Spens is the best sailòr,
+    That sails upon the se.
+
+  The king has written a braid letter,
+    And signd it wi' his hand;
+  And sent it to Sir Patrick Spens,
+    Was walking on the sand.
+
+  The first line that Sir Patrick red,
+    A loud lauch lauched he:
+  The next line that Sir Patrick red,
+    The teir blinded his ee.
+
+  O quha is this has don this deid,
+    This ill deid don to me;
+  To send me out this time o' the zeir,
+    To sail upon the se.
+
+  Mak hast, mak haste, my mirry men all,
+    Our guid schip sails the morne,
+  O say na sae, my master deir,
+    For I feir a deadlie storme.
+
+  Late late yestreen I saw the new moone
+    Wi' the auld moone in hir arme;
+  And I feir, I feir, my deir master,
+    That we will com to harme.
+
+  O our Scots nobles wer richt laith
+    To weet their cork-heild schoone;
+  Bot lang owre a' the play wer playd,
+    Thair hats they swam aboone.
+
+  O lang, lang, may thair ladies sit
+    Wi' thair fans into their hand,
+  Or eir they se Sir Patrick Spens
+    Cum sailing to the land.
+
+  O lang, lang, may the ladies stand
+    Wi' thair gold kems in their hair,
+  Waiting for thair ain deir lords,
+    For they'll se thame na mair.
+
+  Have owre, have owre to Aberdour,
+    It's fiftie fadom deip:
+  And thair lies guid Sir Patrick Spens,
+    Wi' the Scots lords at his feit.
+
+[Illustration: Sir Patrick Spens tailpiece]
+
+
+
+THE EARL OF MAR'S DAUGHTER
+
+
+[Illustration: The Earl of Mar's Daughter headpiece]
+
+
+[Illustration: The Earl of Mar's Daughter]
+
+
+  It was intill a pleasant time,
+    Upon a simmer's day,
+  The noble Earl of Mar's daughter
+  Went forth to sport and play.
+
+  As thus she did amuse hersell,
+    Below a green aik tree,
+  There she saw a sprightly doo
+    Set on a tower sae hie.
+
+  "O cow-me-doo, my love sae true,
+    If ye'll come down to me,
+  Ye 'se hae a cage o guid red gowd
+    Instead o simple tree:
+
+  "I'll put growd hingers roun your cage,
+    And siller roun your wa;
+  I'll gar ye shine as fair a bird
+    As ony o them a'."
+
+  But she hadnae these words well spoke,
+    Nor yet these words well said,
+  Till Cow-me-doo flew frae the tower
+    And lighted on her head.
+
+  Then she has brought this pretty bird
+    Hame to her bowers and ba,
+  And made him shine as fair a bird
+    As ony o them a'.
+
+  When day was gane, and night was come,
+    About the evening tide,
+  This lady spied a sprightly youth
+    Stand straight up by her side.
+
+  "From whence came ye, young man?" she said;
+    "That does surprise me sair;
+  My door was bolted right secure,
+    What way hae ye come here?"
+
+  "O had your tongue, ye lady fair,
+    Lat a' your folly be;
+  Mind ye not on your turtle-doo
+    Last day ye brought wi thee?"
+
+  "O tell me mair, young man," she said,
+    "This does surprise me now;
+  What country hae ye come frae?
+    What pedigree are you?"
+
+  "My mither lives on foreign isles,
+    She has nae mair but me;
+  She is a queen o wealth and state,
+    And birth and high degree.
+
+  "Likewise well skilld in magic spells,
+    As ye may plainly see,
+  And she transformd me to yon shape,
+    To charm such maids as thee.
+
+  "I am a doo the live-lang day,
+    A sprightly youth at night;
+  This aye gars me appear mair fair
+    In a fair maiden's sight.
+
+  "And it was but this verra day
+    That I came ower the sea;
+  Your lovely face did me enchant;
+    I'll live and dee wi thee."
+
+  "O Cow-me-doo, my luve sae true,
+    Nae mair frae me ye 'se gae;
+  That's never my intent, my luve,
+    As ye said, it shall be sae."
+
+  "O Cow-me-doo, my luve sae true,
+    It's time to gae to bed;"
+  "Wi a' my heart, my dear marrow,
+    It's be as ye hae said."
+
+  Then he has staid in bower wi her
+    For sax lang years and ane,
+  Till sax young sons to him she bare,
+    And the seventh she's brought hame.
+
+  But aye as ever a child was born
+    He carried them away,
+  And brought them to his mither's care,
+    As fast as he coud fly.
+
+  Thus he has staid in bower wi her
+    For twenty years and three;
+  There came a lord o high renown
+    To court this fair ladie.
+
+  But still his proffer she refused,
+    And a' his presents too;
+  Says, I'm content to live alane
+    Wi my bird, Cow-me-doo.
+
+  Her father sware a solemn oath
+    Amang the nobles all,
+  "The morn, or ere I eat or drink,
+    This bird I will gar kill."
+
+  The bird was sitting in his cage,
+    And heard what they did say;
+  And when he found they were dismist,
+    Says, Wae's me for this day!
+
+  "Before that I do langer stay,
+    And thus to be forlorn,
+  I'll gang unto my mither's bower,
+    Where I was bred and born."
+
+  Then Cow-me-doo took flight and flew
+    Beyond the raging sea,
+  And lighted near his mither's castle,
+    On a tower o gowd sae hie.
+
+  As his mither was wauking out,
+    To see what she coud see,
+  And there she saw her little son,
+    Set on the tower sae hie.
+
+  "Get dancers here to dance," she said,
+    "And minstrells for to play;
+  For here's my young son, Florentine,
+    Come here wi me to stay."
+
+  "Get nae dancers to dance, mither,
+    Nor minstrells for to play,
+  For the mither o my seven sons,
+    The morn's her wedding-day."
+
+  "O tell me, tell me, Florentine,
+    Tell me, and tell me true,
+  Tell me this day without a flaw,
+    What I will do for you."
+
+  "Instead of dancers to dance, mither,
+    Or minstrells for to play,
+  Turn four-and-twenty wall-wight men
+    Like storks in feathers gray;
+
+  "My seven sons in seven swans,
+    Aboon their heads to flee;
+  And I mysell a gay gos-hawk,
+    A bird o high degree."
+
+  Then sichin said the queen hersell,
+    "That thing's too high for me;"
+  But she applied to an auld woman,
+    Who had mair skill than she.
+
+  Instead o dancers to dance a dance,
+    Or minstrells for to play,
+  Four-and-twenty wall-wight men
+    Turnd birds o feathers gray;
+
+  Her seven sons in seven swans,
+    Aboon their heads to flee;
+  And he himsell a gay gos-hawk,
+    A bird o high degree.
+
+  This flock o birds took flight and flew
+    Beyond the raging sea,
+  And landed near the Earl Mar's castle,
+    Took shelter in every tree.
+
+  They were a flock o pretty birds,
+    Right comely to be seen;
+  The people viewed them wi surprise,
+    As they dancd on the green.
+
+  These birds ascended frae the tree
+    And lighted on the ha,
+  And at the last wi force did flee
+    Amang the nobles a'.
+
+  The storks there seized some o the men,
+    They coud neither fight nor flee;
+  The swans they bound the bride's best man
+    Below a green aik tree.
+
+  They lighted next on maidens fair,
+    Then on the bride's own head,
+  And wi the twinkling o an ee
+    The bride and them were fled.
+
+  There's ancient men at weddings been
+    For sixty years or more,
+  But sic a curious wedding-day
+    They never saw before.
+
+  For naething coud the companie do.
+    Nor naething coud they say
+  But they saw a flock o pretty birds
+    That took their bride away.
+
+  When that Earl Mar he came to know
+    Where his dochter did stay,
+  He signd a bond o unity,
+    And visits now they pay.
+
+[Illustration: The Earl of Mar's Daughter tailpiece]
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of A Book of Ballads, Volume 3, by Various
+
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+<!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.01 Transitional//EN">
+<html>
+<head>
+<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Old Ballads</title>
+<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8">
+<style type="text/css">
+
+body {margin:20%; text-align:justify}
+h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 {color:#A82C28}
+blockquote {font-size:14pt}
+P {font-size:16pt}
+
+</style>
+</head>
+<body>
+
+
+<pre>
+
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of A Book of Ballads, Volume 3, by Various
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: A Book of Ballads, Volume 3
+
+Author: Various
+
+Editor: Beverly Nichols
+
+Posting Date: April 29, 2014 [EBook #7533]
+Release Date: February, 2005
+First Posted: May 15, 2003
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: UTF-8
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A BOOK OF BALLADS, VOLUME 3 ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by David Widger, Juliet Sutherland, Phil McLaury,
+Charles Franks and the Online Distributed Proofreading
+Team. Text version by Al Haines.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+
+
+<center>
+<h1>A BOOK OF OLD BALLADS</h1>
+
+<h4>Selected and with an Introduction</h4>
+
+<h3>by</h3>
+
+<h2>BEVERLEY NICHOLS</h2>
+<br><br>
+
+<img alt="001.jpg (14K)" src="images/001.jpg" height="223" width="280">
+
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+
+<br><br><br><br>
+<h2>CONTENTS</h2>
+
+<table summary="" style="">
+
+<tr>
+<td> <a href="#chap01">CLERK COLVILL</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td> <a href="#chap02">SIR ALDINGAR</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td> <a href="#chap03">EDOM O' GORDON</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td> <a href="#chap04">CHEVY CHACE</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td> <a href="#chap05">SIR LANCELOT DU LAKE</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td> <a href="#chap06">GIL MORRICE</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td> <a href="#chap07">THE CHILD OF ELLE</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td> <a href="#chap08">CHILD WATERS</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td> <a href="#chap09">KING EDWARD IV AND THE TANNER OF TAMWORTH</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td> <a href="#chap10">SIR PATRICK SPENS</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td> <a href="#chap11">THE EARL OF MAR'S DAUGHTER</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+</table>
+
+<br><br><br><br>
+<h2>LIST OF COLOUR PLATES</h2>
+<a href="#colvill">CLERK COLVILL</a><br>
+<a href="#morrice">GIL MORRICE</a><br>
+<a href="#childwaters">CHILD WATERS</a><br>
+<a href="#mars">THE EARL OF MAR'S DAUGHTER</a><br>
+
+
+<br><br><br><br><br><br>
+<h2><a name="chap01"></a>CLERK COLVILL</h2>
+<img alt="165.jpg (12K)" src="images/165.jpg" height="139" width="232">
+<br><br>
+<a name="colvill"></a>
+<img alt="colvill.jpg (159K)" src="images/colvill.jpg" height="1017" width="750">
+
+
+<p>  Clerk Colvill and his lusty dame<br>
+    Were walking in the garden green;<br>
+  The belt around her stately waist<br>
+    Cost Clerk Colvill of pounds fifteen.</p>
+
+<p>  "O promise me now, Clerk Colvill,<br>
+    Or it will cost ye muckle strife,<br>
+  Ride never by the wells of Slane,<br>
+    If ye wad live and brook your life."</p>
+
+<p>  "Now speak nae mair, my lusty dame,<br>
+    Now speak nae mair of that to me;<br>
+  Did I neer see a fair woman,<br>
+    But I wad sin with her body?"</p>
+
+<p>  He's taen leave o his gay lady,<br>
+    Nought minding what his lady said,<br>
+  And he's rode by the wells of Slane,<br>
+    Where washing was a bonny maid.</p>
+
+<p>  "Wash on, wash on, my bonny maid,<br>
+    That wash sae clean your sark of silk;"<br>
+  "And weel fa you, fair gentleman,<br>
+    Your body whiter than the milk."</p>
+
+<p>      *       *       *       *       *</p>
+
+<p>  Then loud, loud cry'd the Clerk Colvill,<br>
+    "O my head it pains me sair;"<br>
+  "Then take, then take," the maiden said,<br>
+    "And frae my sark you'll cut a gare."</p>
+
+<p>  Then she's gied him a little bane-knife,<br>
+    And frae her sark he cut a share;<br>
+  She's ty'd it round his whey-white face,<br>
+    But ay his head it aked mair.</p>
+
+<p>  Then louder cry'd the Clerk Colville,<br>
+    "O sairer, sairer akes my head;"<br>
+  "And sairer, sairer ever will,"<br>
+    The maiden crys, "till you be dead."</p>
+
+<p>  Out then he drew his shining blade,<br>
+    Thinking to stick her where she stood,<br>
+  But she was vanished to a fish,<br>
+    And swam far off, a fair mermaid.</p>
+
+<p>  "O mother, mother, braid my hair;<br>
+    My lusty lady, make my bed;<br>
+  O brother, take my sword and spear,<br>
+    For I have seen the false mermaid."</p>
+
+
+
+<br><br><br><br><br><br>
+<h2><a name="chap02"></a>SIR ALDINGAR</h2>
+<img alt="167.jpg (18K)" src="images/167.jpg" height="159" width="237">
+<br><br>
+
+<p>  Our king he kept a false stew&agrave;rde,<br>
+    Sir Aldingar they him call;<br>
+  A falser steward than he was one,<br>
+    Servde not in bower nor hall.</p>
+
+<p>  He wolde have layne by our comelye queene,<br>
+    Her deere worshippe to betraye:<br>
+  Our queene she was a good wom&agrave;n,<br>
+    And evermore said him naye.</p>
+
+<p>  Sir Aldingar was wrothe in his mind,<br>
+    With her hee was never content,<br>
+  Till traiterous meanes he colde devyse,<br>
+    In a fyer to have her brent.</p>
+
+<p>  There came a lazar to the kings gate,<br>
+    A lazar both blinde and lame:<br>
+  He tooke the lazar upon his backe,<br>
+    Him on the queenes bed has layne.</p>
+
+<p>  "Lye still, lazar, whereas thou lyest,<br>
+    Looke thou goe not hence away;<br>
+  He make thee a whole man and a sound<br>
+    In two howers of the day."</p>
+
+<p>  Then went him forth Sir Aldingar,<br>
+    And hyed him to our king:<br>
+  "If I might have grace, as I have space,<br>
+    Sad tydings I could bring."</p>
+
+<p>  Say on, say on, Sir Aldingar,<br>
+    Saye on the soothe to mee.<br>
+  "Our queene hath chosen a new new love,<br>
+    And shee will have none of thee.</p>
+
+<p>  "If shee had chosen a right good knight,<br>
+    The lesse had beene her shame;<br>
+  But she hath chose her a lazar man,<br>
+    A lazar both blinde and lame."</p>
+
+<p>  If this be true, thou Aldingar,<br>
+    The tyding thou tellest to me,<br>
+  Then will I make thee a rich rich knight,<br>
+    Rich both of golde and fee.</p>
+
+<p>  But if it be false, Sir Aldingar,<br>
+    As God nowe grant it bee!<br>
+  Thy body, I sweare by the holye rood,<br>
+    Shall hang on the gallows tree.</p>
+
+<p>  He brought our king to the queenes chamb&egrave;r,<br>
+    And opend to him the dore.<br>
+  A lodlye love, King Harry says,<br>
+    For our queene dame Elinore!</p>
+
+<p>  If thou were a man, as thou art none,<br>
+    Here on my sword thoust dye;<br>
+  But a payre of new gallowes shall be built,<br>
+    And there shalt thou hang on hye.</p>
+
+<p>  Forth then hyed our king, I wysse,<br>
+    And an angry man was hee;<br>
+  And soone he found Queen Elinore,<br>
+    That bride so bright of blee.</p>
+
+<p>  Now God you save, our queene, madame,<br>
+    And Christ you save and see;<br>
+  Heere you have chosen a newe newe love,<br>
+    And you will have none of mee.</p>
+
+<p>  If you had chosen a right good knight,<br>
+    The lesse had been your shame;<br>
+  But you have chose you a lazar man,<br>
+    A lazar both blinde and lame.</p>
+
+<p>  Therfore a fyer there shalt be built,<br>
+    And brent all shalt thou bee.--<br>
+  Now out alacke! said our comly queene,<br>
+    Sir Aldingar's false to mee.</p>
+
+<p>  Now out alacke! sayd our comlye queene,<br>
+    My heart with griefe will brast.<br>
+  I had thought swevens had never been true;<br>
+    I have proved them true at last.</p>
+
+<p>  I dreamt in my sweven on Thursday eve,<br>
+    In my bed whereas I laye.<br>
+  I dreamt a grype and a grimlie beast<br>
+    Had carryed my crowne awaye;</p>
+
+<p>  My gorgett and my kirtle of golde,<br>
+    And all my faire head-geere:<br>
+  And he wold worrye me with his tush<br>
+    And to his nest y-beare:</p>
+
+<p>  Saving there came a little 'gray' hawke,<br>
+    A merlin him they call,<br>
+  Which untill the grounde did strike the grype,<br>
+    That dead he downe did fall.</p>
+
+<p>  Giffe I were a man, as now I am none,<br>
+    A battell wold I prove,<br>
+  To fight with that traitor Aldingar,<br>
+    Att him I cast my glove.</p>
+
+<p>  But seeing Ime able noe battell to make,<br>
+    My liege, grant me a knight<br>
+  To fight with that traitor Sir Aldingar,<br>
+    To maintaine me in my right.</p>
+
+<p>  "Now forty dayes I will give thee<br>
+    To seeke thee a knight therein:<br>
+  If thou find not a knight in forty dayes<br>
+    Thy bodye it must brenn."</p>
+
+<p>  Then shee sent east, and shee sent west,<br>
+    By north and south bedeene:<br>
+  But never a champion colde she find,<br>
+    Wolde fight with that knight soe keene.</p>
+
+<p>  Now twenty dayes were spent and gone,<br>
+    Noe helpe there might be had;<br>
+  Many a teare shed our comelye queene<br>
+    And aye her hart was sad.</p>
+
+<p>  Then came one of the queenes dams&egrave;lles,<br>
+    And knelt upon her knee,<br>
+  "Cheare up, cheare up, my gracious dame,<br>
+    I trust yet helpe may be:</p>
+
+<p>  And here I will make mine avowe,<br>
+    And with the same me binde;<br>
+  That never will I return to thee,<br>
+    Till I some helpe may finde."</p>
+
+<p>  Then forth she rode on a faire palfr&agrave;ye<br>
+    Oer hill and dale about:<br>
+  But never a champion colde she finde,<br>
+    Wolde fighte with that knight so stout.</p>
+
+<p>  And nowe the daye drewe on a pace,<br>
+    When our good queene must dye;<br>
+  All woe-begone was that faire dams&egrave;lle,<br>
+    When she found no helpe was nye.</p>
+
+<p>  All woe-begone was that faire dams&egrave;lle,<br>
+    And the salt teares fell from her eye:<br>
+  When lo! as she rode by a rivers side,<br>
+    She met with a tinye boye.</p>
+
+<p>  A tinye boye she mette, God wot,<br>
+    All clad in mantle of golde;<br>
+  He seemed noe more in mans liken&egrave;sse,<br>
+    Then a childe of four yeere old.</p>
+
+<p>  Why grieve you, damselle faire, he sayd,<br>
+    And what doth cause you moane?<br>
+  The damsell scant wolde deigne a looke,<br>
+    But fast she pricked on.</p>
+
+<p>  Yet turne againe, thou faire dams&egrave;lle<br>
+    And greete thy queene from mee:<br>
+  When bale is att hyest, boote is nyest,<br>
+    Nowe helpe enoughe may bee.</p>
+
+<p>  Bid her remember what she dreamt<br>
+    In her bedd, wheras shee laye;<br>
+  How when the grype and grimly beast<br>
+    Wolde have carried her crowne awaye,</p>
+
+<p>  Even then there came the little gray hawke,<br>
+    And saved her from his clawes:<br>
+  Then bidd the queene be merry at hart,<br>
+    For heaven will fende her cause.</p>
+
+<p>  Back then rode that faire dams&egrave;lle,<br>
+    And her hart it lept for glee:<br>
+  And when she told her gracious dame<br>
+    A gladd woman then was shee:</p>
+
+<p>  But when the appointed day was come,<br>
+    No helpe appeared nye:<br>
+  Then woeful, woeful was her hart,<br>
+    And the teares stood in her eye.</p>
+
+<p>  And nowe a fyer was built of wood;<br>
+    And a stake was made of tree;<br>
+  And now Queene Elinor forth was led,<br>
+    A sorrowful sight to see.</p>
+
+<p>  Three times the herault he waved his hand,<br>
+    And three times spake on hye:<br>
+  Giff any good knight will fende this dame,<br>
+    Come forth, or shee must dye.</p>
+
+<p>  No knight stood forth, no knight there came,<br>
+    No helpe appeared nye:<br>
+  And now the fyer was lighted up,<br>
+    Queen Elinor she must dye.</p>
+
+<p>  And now the fyer was lighted up,<br>
+    As hot as hot might bee;<br>
+  When riding upon a little white steed,<br>
+    The tinye boy they see.</p>
+
+<p>  "Away with that stake, away with those brands,<br>
+    And loose our comelye queene:<br>
+  I am come to fight with Sir Aldingar,<br>
+    And prove him a traitor keene."</p>
+
+<p>  Forthe then stood Sir Aldingar,<br>
+    But when he saw the chylde,<br>
+  He laughed, and scoffed, and turned his backe,<br>
+    And weened he had been beguylde.</p>
+
+<p>  "Now turne, now turne thee, Aldingar,<br>
+    And eyther fighte or flee;<br>
+  I trust that I shall avenge the wronge,<br>
+    Thoughe I am so small to see."</p>
+
+<p>  The boy pulld forth a well good sworde<br>
+    So gilt it dazzled the ee;<br>
+  The first stroke stricken at Aldingar,<br>
+    Smote off his leggs by the knee.</p>
+
+<p>  "Stand up, stand up, thou false trait&ograve;r,<br>
+    And fight upon thy feete,<br>
+  For and thou thrive, as thou begin'st,<br>
+    Of height wee shall be meete."</p>
+
+<p>  A priest, a priest, sayes Alding&agrave;r,<br>
+    While I am a man alive.<br>
+  A priest, a priest, sayes Alding&agrave;r,<br>
+    Me for to houzle and shrive.</p>
+
+<p>  I wolde have laine by our comlie queene,<br>
+    Bot shee wolde never consent;<br>
+  Then I thought to betraye her unto our kinge<br>
+    In a fyer to have her brent.</p>
+
+<p>  There came a lazar to the kings gates,<br>
+    A lazar both blind and lame:<br>
+  I tooke the lazar upon my backe,<br>
+    And on her bedd had him layne.</p>
+
+<p>  Then ranne I to our comlye king,<br>
+    These tidings sore to tell.<br>
+  But ever alacke! sayes Aldingar,<br>
+    Falsing never doth well.</p>
+
+<p>  Forgive, forgive me, queene, madame,<br>
+    The short time I must live.<br>
+  "Nowe Christ forgive thee, Aldingar,<br>
+    As freely I forgive."</p>
+
+<p>  Here take thy queene, our king Harry&egrave;,<br>
+    And love her as thy life,<br>
+  For never had a king in Christentye.<br>
+    A truer and fairer wife.</p>
+
+<p>  King Henrye ran to claspe his queene,<br>
+    And loosed her full sone:<br>
+  Then turned to look for the tinye boye;<br>
+    --The boye was vanisht and gone.</p>
+
+<p>  But first he had touched the lazar man,<br>
+    And stroakt him with his hand:<br>
+  The lazar under the gallowes tree<br>
+    All whole and sounde did stand.</p>
+
+<p>  The lazar under the gallowes tree<br>
+    Was comelye, straight and tall;<br>
+  King Henrye made him his head stew&agrave;rde<br>
+    To wayte withinn his hall.</p>
+
+
+
+<br><br><br><br><br><br>
+<h2><a name="chap03"></a>EDOM O' GORDON</h2>
+<img alt="177.jpg (116K)" src="images/177.jpg" height="582" width="769">
+<br><br>
+
+
+<p>  It fell about the Martinmas,<br>
+    Quhen the wind blew shril and cauld,<br>
+  Said Edom o' Gordon to his men,<br>
+    We maun draw till a hauld.</p>
+
+<p>  And quhat a hauld sall we draw till,<br>
+    My mirry men and me?<br>
+  We wul gae to the house o' the Rodes,<br>
+    To see that fair ladie.</p>
+
+<p>  The lady stude on her castle wa',<br>
+    Beheld baith dale and down:<br>
+  There she was ware of a host of men<br>
+    Cum ryding towards the toun.</p>
+
+<p>  O see ze nat, my mirry men a'?<br>
+    O see za nat quhat I see?<br>
+  Methinks I see a host of men:<br>
+    I marveil quha they be.</p>
+
+<p>  She weend it had been hir luvely lord,<br>
+    As he cam ryding hame;<br>
+  It was the traitor Edom o' Gordon,<br>
+    Quha reckt nae sin nor shame.</p>
+
+<p>  She had nae sooner buskit hirsel,<br>
+    And putten on hir goun,<br>
+  But Edom o' Gordon and his men<br>
+    Were round about the toun.</p>
+
+<p>  They had nae sooner supper sett,<br>
+    Nae sooner said the grace,<br>
+  But Edom o' Gordon and his men<br>
+    Were light about the place.</p>
+
+<p>  The lady ran up to hir towir head,<br>
+    Sa fast as she could hie,<br>
+  To see if by hir fair speech&egrave;s<br>
+    She could wi' him agree.</p>
+
+<p>  But quhan he see this lady saif,<br>
+    And hir yates all locked fast,<br>
+  He fell into a rage of wrath,<br>
+    And his look was all aghast.</p>
+
+<p>  Cum doun to me, ze lady gay,<br>
+    Cum doun, cum doun to me:<br>
+  This night sall ye lig within mine armes,<br>
+    To-morrow my bride sall be.</p>
+
+<p>  I winnae cum doun ze fals Gord&ograve;n,<br>
+    I winnae cum doun to thee;<br>
+  I winna forsake my ain dear lord,<br>
+    That is sae far frae me.</p>
+
+<p>  Give owre zour house, ze lady fair,<br>
+    Give owre zour house to me,<br>
+  Or I sall brenn yoursel therein,<br>
+    Bot and zour babies three.</p>
+
+<p>  I winnae give owre, ze false Gord&ograve;n,<br>
+    To nae sik traitor as zee;<br>
+  And if ze brenn my ain dear babes,<br>
+    My lord sall make ze drie.</p>
+
+<p>  But reach my pistoll, Glaud my man,<br>
+    And charge ze weil my gun:<br>
+  For, but an I pierce that bluidy butcher,<br>
+    My babes we been undone.</p>
+
+<p>  She stude upon hir castle wa',<br>
+    And let twa bullets flee:<br>
+  She mist that bluidy butchers hart,<br>
+    And only raz'd his knee.</p>
+
+<p>  Set fire to the house, quo' fals Gord&ograve;n,<br>
+    All wood wi' dule and ire:<br>
+  Fals lady, ze sall rue this deid,<br>
+    As ze bren in the fire.</p>
+
+<p>  Wae worth, wae worth ze, Jock my man,<br>
+    I paid ze weil zour fee;<br>
+  Quhy pu' ze out the ground-wa' stane,<br>
+    Lets in the reek to me?</p>
+
+<p>  And ein wae worth ze, Jock my man,<br>
+    I paid ze weil zour hire;<br>
+  Quhy pu' ze out the ground-wa' stane,<br>
+    To me lets in the fire?</p>
+
+<p>  Ze paid me weil my hire, lady;<br>
+    Ze paid me weil my fee:<br>
+  But now I'm Edom o' Gordons man,<br>
+    Maun either doe or die.</p>
+
+<p>  O than bespaik hir little son,<br>
+    Sate on the nurses knee:<br>
+  Sayes, Mither deare, gi' owre this house,<br>
+    For the reek it smithers me.</p>
+
+<p>  I wad gie a' my gowd, my childe,<br>
+    Say wald I a' my fee,<br>
+  For ane blast o' the western wind,<br>
+    To blaw the reek frae thee.</p>
+
+<p>  O then bespaik hir dochter dear,<br>
+    She was baith jimp and sma;<br>
+  O row me in a pair o' sheits,<br>
+    And tow me owre the wa.</p>
+
+<p>  They rowd hir in a pair o' sheits,<br>
+    And towd hir owre the wa:<br>
+  But on the point of Gordons spear<br>
+    She gat a deadly fa.</p>
+
+<p>  O bonnie bonnie was hir mouth,<br>
+    And cherry were her cheiks,<br>
+  And clear clear was hir zellow hair,<br>
+    Whereon the reid bluid dreips.</p>
+
+<p>  Then wi' his spear he turnd hir owre,<br>
+    O gin hir face was wan!<br>
+  He sayd, Ze are the first that eir<br>
+    I wisht alive again.</p>
+
+<p>  He turnd hir owre and owre againe,<br>
+    O gin hir skin was whyte!<br>
+  I might ha spared that bonnie face<br>
+    To hae been sum mans delyte.</p>
+
+<p>  Busk and boun, my merry men a',<br>
+    For ill dooms I doe guess;<br>
+  I cannae luik in that bonnie face,<br>
+    As it lyes on the grass.</p>
+
+<p>  Thame, luiks to freits, my master deir,<br>
+    Then freits wil follow thame:<br>
+  Let neir be said brave Edom o' Gordon<br>
+    Was daunted by a dame.</p>
+
+<p>  But quhen the ladye see the fire<br>
+    Cum flaming owre hir head,<br>
+  She wept and kist her children twain,<br>
+    Sayd, Bairns, we been but dead.</p>
+
+<p>  The Gordon then his bougill blew,<br>
+    And said, Awa', awa';<br>
+  This house o' the Rodes is a' in flame,<br>
+    I hauld it time to ga'.</p>
+
+<p>  O then bespyed hir ain dear lord,<br>
+    As hee cam owr the lee;<br>
+  He sied his castle all in blaze
+    Sa far as he could see.</p>
+
+<p>  Then sair, O sair his mind misgave,<br>
+    And all his hart was wae;<br>
+  Put on, put on, my wighty men,<br>
+    So fast as ze can gae.</p>
+
+<p>  Put on, put on, my wighty men,<br>
+    Sa fast as ze can drie;<br>
+  For he that is hindmost of the thrang<br>
+    Sall neir get guid o' me.</p>
+
+<p>  Than sum they rade, and sum they rin,<br>
+    Fou fast out-owr the bent;<br>
+  But eir the foremost could get up,<br>
+    Baith lady and babes were brent.</p>
+
+<p>  He wrang his hands, he rent his hair,<br>
+    And wept in teenefu' muid:<br>
+  O traitors, for this cruel deid<br>
+    Ze sall weep tiers o' bluid.</p>
+
+<p>  And after the Gordon he is gane,<br>
+    Sa fast as he might drie.<br>
+  And soon i' the Gordon's foul hartis bluid<br>
+    He's wroken his dear ladie.</p>
+
+
+
+
+<img alt="183.jpg (28K)" src="images/183.jpg" height="369" width="440">
+<br><br><br><br><br><br>
+<h2><a name="chap04"></a>THE BALLAD OF CHEVY CHACE</h2>
+<img alt="184.jpg (108K)" src="images/184.jpg" height="435" width="773">
+<br><br>
+
+
+<p>  God prosper long our noble king,<br>
+    Our lives and safetyes all;<br>
+  A woefull hunting once there did<br>
+    In Chevy-Chace befall;</p>
+
+<p>  To drive the deere with hound and horne,<br>
+    Erle Percy took his way,<br>
+  The child may rue that is unborne,<br>
+    The hunting of that day.</p>
+
+<p>  The stout Erle of Northumberland<br>
+    A vow to God did make,<br>
+  His pleasure in the Scottish woods<br>
+    Three summers days to take;</p>
+
+<p>  The cheefest harts in Chevy-chace<br>
+    To kill and beare away.<br>
+  These tydings to Erle Douglas came,<br>
+    In Scotland where he lay:</p>
+
+<p>  Who sent Erle Percy present word,<br>
+    He wold prevent his sport.<br>
+  The English erle, not fearing that,<br>
+    Did to the woods resort</p>
+
+<p>  With fifteen hundred bow-men bold;<br>
+    All chosen men of might,<br>
+  Who knew full well in time of neede<br>
+    To ayme their shafts arright.</p>
+
+<p>  The galland greyhounds swiftly ran,<br>
+    To chase the fallow deere:<br>
+  On munday they began to hunt,<br>
+    Ere day-light did appeare;</p>
+
+<p>  And long before high noone they had<br>
+    An hundred fat buckes slaine;<br>
+  Then having dined, the drovyers went<br>
+    To rouze the deare againe.</p>
+
+<p>  The bow-men mustered on the hills,<br>
+    Well able to endure;<br>
+  Theire backsides all, with speciall care,<br>
+    That day were guarded sure.</p>
+
+<p>  The hounds ran swiftly through the woods,<br>
+    The nimble deere to take,<br>
+  That with their cryes the hills and dales<br>
+    An eccho shrill did make.</p>
+
+<p>  Lord Percy to the quarry went,<br>
+    To view the slaughter'd deere;<br>
+  Quoth he, Erle Douglas promised<br>
+    This day to meet me heere:</p>
+
+<p>  But if I thought he wold not come,<br>
+    Noe longer wold I stay.<br>
+  With that, a brave younge gentleman<br>
+    Thus to the Erle did say:</p>
+
+<p>  Loe, yonder doth Erle Douglas come,<br>
+    His men in armour bright;<br>
+  Full twenty hundred Scottish speres<br>
+    All marching in our sight;</p>
+
+<p>  All men of pleasant Tivydale,<br>
+    Fast by the river Tweede:<br>
+  O cease your sports, Erle Percy said,<br>
+    And take your bowes with speede:</p>
+
+<p>  And now with me, my countrymen,<br>
+    Your courage forth advance;<br>
+  For there was never champion yett,<br>
+    In Scotland nor in France,</p>
+
+<p>  That ever did on horsebacke come,<br>
+    But if my hap it were,<br>
+  I durst encounter man for man,<br>
+    With him to break a spere.</p>
+
+<p>  Erle Douglas on his milke-white steede,<br>
+    Most like a baron bolde,<br>
+  Rode foremost of his company,<br>
+    Whose armour shone like gold.</p>
+
+<p>  Show me, sayd hee, whose men you bee,<br>
+    That hunt soe boldly heere,<br>
+  That, without my consent, doe chase<br>
+    And kill my fallow-deere.</p>
+
+<p>  The first man that did answer make<br>
+    Was noble Percy hee;<br>
+  Who sayd, Wee list not to declare,<br>
+    Nor shew whose men wee bee:<br></p>
+
+<p>  Yet wee will spend our deerest blood,<br>
+    Thy cheefest harts to slay.<br>
+  Then Douglas swore a solempne oathe,<br>
+    And thus in rage did say,</p>
+
+<p>  Ere thus I will out-braved bee,<br>
+    One of us two shall dye:<br>
+  I know thee well, an erle thou art;<br>
+    Lord Percy, soe am I.</p>
+
+<p>  But trust me, Percy, pittye it were,<br>
+    And great offence to kill<br>
+  Any of these our guiltlesse men,<br>
+    For they have done no ill.</p>
+
+<p>  Let thou and I the battell trye,<br>
+    And set our men aside.<br>
+  Accurst bee he, Erle Percy sayd,<br>
+    By whome this is denyed.</p>
+
+<p>  Then stept a gallant squier forth,<br>
+    Witherington was his name,<br>
+  Who said, I wold not have it told<br>
+    To Henry our king for shame,</p>
+
+<p>  That ere my captaine fought on foote,<br>
+    And I stood looking on.<br>
+  You be two erles, sayd Witherington,<br>
+    And I a squier alone:</p>
+
+<p>  He doe the best that doe I may,<br>
+    While I have power to stand:<br>
+  While I have power to weeld my sword<br>
+    He fight with hart and hand.</p>
+
+<p>  Our English archers bent their bowes,<br>
+    Their harts were good and trew;<br>
+  Att the first flight of arrowes sent,<br>
+    Full four-score Scots they slew.</p>
+
+<p>  Yet bides Earl Douglas on the bent,<br>
+    As Chieftain stout and good.<br>
+  As valiant Captain, all unmov'd<br>
+    The shock he firmly stood.</p>
+
+<p>  His host he parted had in three,<br>
+    As Leader ware and try'd,<br>
+  And soon his spearmen on their foes<br>
+    Bare down on every side.</p>
+
+<p>  To drive the deere with hound and horne,<br>
+    Douglas bade on the bent<br>
+  Two captaines moved with mickle might<br>
+    Their speres to shivers went.</p>
+
+<p>  Throughout the English archery<br>
+    They dealt full many a wound:<br>
+  But still our valiant Englishmen<br>
+    All firmly kept their ground:</p>
+
+<p>  And throwing strait their bows away,<br>
+    They grasp'd their swords so bright:<br>
+  And now sharp blows, a heavy shower,<br>
+    On shields and helmets light.</p>
+
+<p>  They closed full fast on every side,<br>
+    Noe slackness there was found:<br>
+  And many a gallant gentleman<br>
+    Lay gasping on the ground.</p>
+
+<p>  O Christ! it was a griefe to see;<br>
+    And likewise for to heare,<br>
+  The cries of men lying in their gore,<br>
+    And scattered here and there.</p>
+
+<p>  At last these two stout erles did meet,<br>
+    Like captaines of great might:<br>
+  Like lyons wood, they layd on lode,<br>
+    And made a cruell fight:</p>
+
+<p>  They fought untill they both did sweat,<br>
+    With swords of tempered steele;<br>
+  Untill the blood, like drops of rain,<br>
+    They tricklin downe did feele.</p>
+
+<p>  Yeeld thee, Lord Percy, Douglas sayd<br>
+    In faith I will thee bringe,<br>
+  Where thou shalt high advanced bee<br>
+    By James our Scottish king:</p>
+
+<p>  Thy ransome I will freely give,<br>
+    And this report of thee,<br>
+  Thou art the most couragious knight,<br>
+    That ever I did see.</p>
+
+<p>  Noe, Douglas, quoth Erle Percy then,<br>
+    Thy proffer I doe scorne;<br>
+  I will not yeelde to any Scott,<br>
+    That ever yett was borne.</p>
+
+<p>  With that, there came an arrow keene<br>
+    Out of an English bow,<br>
+  Which struck Erle Douglas to the heart,<br>
+    A deepe and deadlye blow:</p>
+
+<p>  Who never spake more words than these,<br>
+    Fight on, my merry men all;<br>
+  For why, my life is at an end;<br>
+    Lord Percy sees my fall.</p>
+
+<p>  Then leaving liffe, Erie Percy tooke<br>
+    The dead man by the hand;<br>
+  And said, Erle Douglas, for thy life<br>
+    Wold I had lost my land.</p>
+
+<p>  O Christ! my verry hart doth bleed<br>
+    With sorrow for thy sake;<br>
+  For sure, a more redoubted knight<br>
+    Mischance cold never take.</p>
+
+<p>  A knight amongst the Scotts there was<br>
+    Which saw Erle Douglas dye,<br>
+  Who streight in wrath did vow revenge<br>
+    Upon the Lord Percye:</p>
+
+<p>  Sir Hugh Mountgomery was he call'd,<br>
+    Who, with a spere most bright,<br>
+  Well-mounted on a gallant steed,<br>
+    Ran fiercely through the fight;</p>
+
+<p>  And past the English archers all,<br>
+    Without all dread or feare;<br>
+  And through Earl Percyes body then<br>
+    He thrust his hatefull spere;</p>
+
+<p>  With such a vehement force and might<br>
+    He did his body gore,<br>
+  The staff ran through the other side<br>
+    A large cloth-yard and more.</p>
+
+<p>  So thus did both these nobles dye,<br>
+    Whose courage none could staine:<br>
+  An English archer then perceiv'd<br>
+    The noble erle was slaine;</p>
+
+<p>  He had a bow bent in his hand,<br>
+    Made of a trusty tree;<br>
+  An arrow of a cloth-yard long<br>
+    Up to the head drew hee:</p>
+
+<p>  Against Sir Hugh Mountgomerye,<br>
+    So right the shaft he sett,<br>
+  The grey goose-winge that was thereon,<br>
+    In his harts bloode was wette.</p>
+
+<p>  This fight did last from breake of day,<br>
+    Till setting of the sun;<br>
+  For when they rang the evening-bell,<br>
+    The battel scarce was done.</p>
+
+<p>  With stout Erle Percy there was slaine<br>
+    Sir John of Egerton,<br>
+  Sir Robert Ratcliff, and Sir John,<br>
+    Sir James that bold barr&ograve;n:</p>
+
+<p>  And with Sir George and stout Sir James,<br>
+    Both knights of good account,<br>
+  Good Sir Ralph Raby there was slaine,<br>
+    Whose prowesse did surmount.</p>
+
+<p>  For Witherington needs must I wayle,<br>
+    As one in doleful dumpes;<br>
+  For when his leggs were smitten off,<br>
+    He fought upon his stumpes.</p>
+
+<p>  And with Erle Douglas, there was slaine<br>
+    Sir Hugh Montgomerye,<br>
+  Sir Charles Murray, that from the feeld<br>
+    One foote wold never flee.</p>
+
+<p>  Sir Charles Murray, of Ratcliff, too,<br>
+    His sisters sonne was hee;<br>
+  Sir David Lamb, so well esteem'd,<br>
+    Yet saved cold not bee.</p>
+
+<p>  And the Lord Maxwell in like case<br>
+    Did with Erle Douglas dye:<br>
+  Of twenty hundred Scottish speres,<br>
+    Scarce fifty-five did flye.</p>
+
+<p>  Of fifteen hundred Englishmen,<br>
+    Went home but fifty-three;<br>
+  The rest were slaine in Chevy-Chace,<br>
+    Under the greene woode tree.</p>
+
+<p>  Next day did many widowes come,<br>
+    Their husbands to bewayle;<br>
+  They washt their wounds in brinish teares,<br>
+    But all wold not prevayle.</p>
+
+<p>  Theyr bodyes, bathed in purple gore,<br>
+    They bare with them away:<br>
+  They kist them dead a thousand times,<br>
+    Ere they were cladd in clay.</p>
+
+<p>  The news was brought to Eddenborrow,<br>
+    Where Scottlands king did raigne,<br>
+  That brave Erle Douglas suddenlye<br>
+    Was with an arrow slaine:</p>
+
+<p>  O heavy newes, King James did say,<br>
+    Scotland may witnesse bee,<br>
+  I have not any captaine more<br>
+    Of such account as hee.</p>
+
+<p>  Like tydings to King Henry came,<br>
+    Within as short a space,<br>
+  That Percy of Northumberland<br>
+    Was slaine in Chevy-Chace:</p>
+
+<p>  Now God be with him, said our king,<br>
+    Sith it will noe better bee;<br>
+  I trust I have, within my realme,<br>
+    Five hundred as good as hee:</p>
+
+<p>  Yett shall not Scotts nor Scotland say,<br>
+    But I will vengeance take:<br>
+  I'll be revenged on them all,<br>
+    For brave Erle Percyes sake.</p>
+
+<p>  This vow full well the king perform'd<br>
+    After, at Humbledowne;<br>
+  In one day, fifty knights were slayne,<br>
+    With lords of great renowne:</p>
+
+<p>  And of the rest, of small acount,<br>
+    Did many thousands dye:<br>
+  Thus endeth the hunting of Chevy-Chase,<br>
+    Made by the Erle Percy.</p>
+
+<p>  God save our king, and bless this land<br>
+    With plenty, joy, and peace;<br>
+  And grant henceforth, that foule debate<br>
+    'Twixt noblemen may cease.</p>
+
+<img alt="195.jpg (87K)" src="images/195.jpg" height="597" width="785">
+<br><br><br><br><br><br>
+<h2><a name="chap05"></a>SIR LANCELOT DU LAKE</h2>
+<img alt="196.jpg (121K)" src="images/196.jpg" height="599" width="759">
+<br><br>
+
+<p>  When Arthur first in court began,<br>
+    And was approved king,<br>
+   By force of armes great victorys wanne,<br>
+  And conquest home did bring,</p>
+
+<p>  Then into England straight he came<br>
+    With fifty good and able<br>
+  Knights, that resorted unto him,<br>
+    And were of his round table:</p>
+
+<p>  And he had justs and turnaments,<br>
+    Whereto were many prest,<br>
+  Wherein some knights did far excell<br>
+    And eke surmount the rest.</p>
+
+<p>  But one Sir Lancelot du Lake,<br>
+    Who was approved well,<br>
+  He for his deeds and feats of armes<br>
+    All others did excell.</p>
+
+<p>  When he had rested him a while,<br>
+    In play, and game, and sportt,<br>
+  He said he wold goe prove himselfe<br>
+    In some adventurous sort.</p>
+
+<p>  He armed rode in a forrest wide,<br>
+    And met a damsell faire,<br>
+  Who told him of adventures great,<br>
+    Whereto he gave great eare.</p>
+
+<p>  Such wold I find, quoth Lancelott:<br>
+    For that cause came I hither.<br>
+  Thou seemest, quoth shee, a knight full good,<br>
+    And I will bring thee thither.</p>
+
+<p>  Wheras a mighty knight doth dwell,<br>
+    That now is of great fame:<br>
+  Therefore tell me what wight thou art,<br>
+    And what may be thy name.</p>
+
+<p>  "My name is Lancelot du Lake."<br>
+    Quoth she, it likes me than:<br>
+  Here dwelles a knight who never was<br>
+    Yet matcht with any man:</p>
+
+<p>  Who has in prison threescore knights<br>
+    And four, that he did wound;<br>
+  Knights of King Arthurs court they be,<br>
+    And of his table round.</p>
+
+<p>  She brought him to a river side,<br>
+    And also to a tree,<br>
+  Whereon a copper bason hung,<br>
+    And many shields to see.</p>
+
+<p>  He struck soe hard, the bason broke;<br>
+    And Tarquin soon he spyed:<br>
+  Who drove a horse before him fast,<br>
+    Whereon a knight lay tyed.</p>
+
+<p>  Sir knight, then sayd Sir Lancelett,<br>
+    Bring me that horse-load hither,<br>
+  And lay him downe, and let him rest;<br>
+    Weel try our force together:</p>
+
+<p>  For, as I understand, thou hast,<br>
+    So far as thou art able,<br>
+  Done great despite and shame unto<br>
+    The knights of the Round Table.</p>
+
+<p>  If thou be of the Table Round,<br>
+    Quoth Tarquin speedilye,<br>
+  Both thee and all thy fellowship<br>
+    I utterly defye.</p>
+
+<p>  That's over much, quoth Lancelott tho,<br>
+    Defend thee by and by.<br>
+  They sett their speares unto their steeds,<br>
+    And eache att other flie.</p>
+
+<p>  They coucht theire speares (their horses ran,<br>
+    As though there had beene thunder),<br>
+  And strucke them each immidst their shields,<br>
+    Wherewith they broke in sunder.</p>
+
+<p>  Their horsses backes brake under them,<br>
+    The knights were both astound:<br>
+  To avoyd their horsses they made haste<br>
+    And light upon the ground.</p>
+
+<p>  They tooke them to their shields full fast,<br>
+    Their swords they drewe out than,<br>
+  With mighty strokes most eagerlye<br>
+    Each at the other ran.</p>
+
+<p>  They wounded were, and bled full sore,<br>
+    They both for breath did stand,<br>
+  And leaning on their swords awhile,<br>
+    Quoth Tarquine, Hold thy hand,</p>
+
+<p>  And tell to me what I shall aske.<br>
+    Say on, quoth Lancelot tho.<br>
+  Thou art, quoth Tarquine, the best knight<br>
+    That ever I did know:</p>
+
+<p>  And like a knight, that I did hate:<br>
+    Soe that thou be not hee,<br>
+  I will deliver all the rest,<br>
+    And eke accord with thee.</p>
+
+<p>  That is well said, quoth Lancelott;<br>
+    But sith it must be soe,<br>
+  What knight is that thou hatest thus<br>
+    I pray thee to me show.</p>
+
+<p>  His name is Lancelot du Lake,<br>
+    He slew my brother deere;<br>
+  Him I suspect of all the rest:<br>
+    I would I had him here.</p>
+
+<p>  Thy wish thou hast, but yet unknowne,<br>
+    I am Lancelot du Lake,<br>
+  Now knight of Arthurs Table Round;<br>
+    King Hauds son of Schuwake;</p>
+
+<p>  And I desire thee to do thy worst.<br>
+    Ho, ho, quoth Tarquin tho'<br>
+  One of us two shall ende our lives<br>
+    Before that we do go.</p>
+
+<p>  If thou be Lancelot du Lake,<br>
+    Then welcome shalt thou bee:<br>
+  Wherfore see thou thyself defend,<br>
+    For now defye I thee.</p>
+
+<p>  They buckled them together so,<br>
+    Like unto wild boares rashing;<br>
+  And with their swords and shields they ran<br>
+    At one another slashing:</p>
+
+<p>  The ground besprinkled was with blood:<br>
+    Tarquin began to yield;<br>
+  For he gave backe for wearinesse,<br>
+    And lowe did beare his shield.</p>
+
+<p>  This soone Sir Lancelot espyde,<br>
+    He leapt upon him then,<br>
+  He pull'd him downe upon his knee,<br>
+    And rushing off his helm,</p>
+
+<p>  Forthwith he strucke his necke in two,<br>
+    And, when he had soe done,<br>
+  From prison threescore knights and four<br>
+    Delivered everye one.</p>
+
+<br><br><br><br><br><br>
+<h2><a name="chap06"></a>GIL MORRICE</h2>
+<img alt="202.jpg (110K)" src="images/202.jpg" height="585" width="776">
+<br><br>
+<a name="morrice"></a>
+<img alt="morrice.jpg (179K)" src="images/morrice.jpg" height="1024" width="750">
+
+<p>  Gil Morrice was an erles son,<br>
+     His name it waxed wide;<br>
+    It was nae for his great riches,<br>
+  Nor zet his mickle pride;<br>
+  Bot it was for a lady gay,<br>
+    That livd on Carron side.</p>
+
+<p>  Quhair sail I get a bonny boy,<br>
+    That will win hose and shoen;<br>
+  That will gae to Lord Barnards ha',<br>
+    And bid his lady cum?<br>
+  And ze maun rin my errand, Willie;<br>
+    And ze may rin wi' pride;<br>
+  Quhen other boys gae on their foot<br>
+    On horse-back ze sail ride.</p>
+
+<p>  O no! Oh no! my master dear!<br>
+    I dare nae for my life;<br>
+  I'll no gae to the bauld bar&ograve;ns,<br>
+    For to triest furth his wife.<br>
+  My bird Willie, my boy Willie;<br>
+    My dear Willie, he sayd:<br>
+  How can ze strive against the stream?<br>
+    For I sall be obeyd.</p>
+
+<p>  Bot, O my master dear! he cryd,<br>
+    In grene wod ze're zour lain;<br>
+  Gi owre sic thochts, I walde ze rede,<br>
+    For fear ze should be tain.<br>
+  Haste, haste, I say, gae to the ha',<br>
+    Bid hir cum here wi speid:<br>
+  If ze refuse my heigh command,<br>
+    Ill gar zour body bleid.</p>
+
+<p>  Gae bid hir take this gay mantel,<br>
+    'Tis a' gowd hot the hem;<br>
+  Bid hir cum to the gude grene wode,<br>
+    And bring nane bot hir lain:<br>
+  And there it is a silken sarke,<br>
+    Hir ain hand sewd the sleive;<br>
+  And bid hir cum to Gill Morice,<br>
+    Speir nae bauld barons leave.</p>
+
+<p>  Yes, I will gae zour black errand,<br>
+    Though it be to zour cost;<br>
+  Sen ze by me will nae be warn'd,<br>
+    In it ze sail find frost.<br>
+  The baron he is a man of might,<br>
+    He neir could bide to taunt,<br>
+  As ze will see before its nicht,<br>
+    How sma' ze hae to vaunt.</p>
+
+<p>  And sen I maun zour errand rin<br>
+    Sae sair against my will,<br>
+  I'se mak a vow and keip it trow,<br>
+    It sall be done for ill.<br>
+  And quhen he came to broken brigue,<br>
+    He bent his bow and swam;<br>
+  And quhen he came to grass growing,<br>
+    Set down his feet and ran.</p>
+
+<p>  And quhen he came to Barnards ha',<br>
+    Would neither chap nor ca':<br>
+  Bot set his bent bow to his breist,<br>
+    And lichtly lap the wa'.<br>
+  He wauld nae tell the man his errand,<br>
+    Though he stude at the gait;<br>
+  Bot straiht into the ha' he cam,<br>
+    Quhair they were set at meit.</p>
+
+<p>  Hail! hail! my gentle sire and dame!<br>
+    My message winna waite;<br>
+  Dame, ze maun to the gude grene wod<br>
+    Before that it be late.<br>
+  Ze're bidden tak this gay mant&egrave;l,<br>
+    Tis a' gowd bot the hem:<br>
+  Zou maun gae to the gude grene wode,<br>
+    Ev'n by your sel alane.</p>
+
+<p>  And there it is, a silken sarke,<br>
+    Your ain hand sewd the sleive;<br>
+  Ze maun gae speik to Gill Morice:<br>
+    Speir nae bauld barons leave.<br>
+  The lady stamped wi' hir foot,<br>
+    And winked wi' hir ee;<br>
+  Bot a' that she coud say or do,<br>
+    Forbidden he wad nae bee.</p>
+
+<p>  Its surely to my bow'r-wom&agrave;n;<br>
+    It neir could be to me.<br>
+  I brocht it to Lord Barnards lady;<br>
+    I trow that ze be she.<br>
+  Then up and spack the wylie nurse,<br>
+    (The bairn upon hir knee)<br>
+  If it be cum frae Gill Morice,<br>
+    It's deir welcum to mee.</p>
+
+<p>  Ze leid, ze leid, ze filthy nurse,<br>
+    Sae loud I heird zee lee;<br>
+  I brocht it to Lord Barnards lady;<br>
+    I trow ze be nae shee.<br>
+  Then up and spack the bauld bar&ograve;n,<br>
+    An angry man was hee;<br>
+  He's tain the table wi' his foot,<br>
+    Sae has he wi' his knee;<br>
+  Till siller cup and 'mazer' dish<br>
+    In flinders he gard flee.</p>
+
+<p>  Gae bring a robe of zour clid&igrave;ng,<br>
+    That hings upon the pin;<br>
+  And I'll gae to the gude grene wode,<br>
+    And speik wi' zour lemm&agrave;n.<br>
+  O bide at hame, now Lord Barn&agrave;rd,<br>
+    I warde ze bide at hame;<br>
+  Neir wyte a man for violence,<br>
+    That neir wate ze wi' nane.</p>
+
+<p>  Gil Morice sate in gude grene wode,<br>
+    He whistled and he sang:<br>
+  O what mean a' the folk com&igrave;ng,<br>
+    My mother tarries lang.<br>
+  His hair was like the threeds of gold,<br>
+    Drawne frae Minerva's loome:<br>
+  His lipps like roses drapping dew,<br>
+    His breath was a' perfume.</p>
+
+<p>  His brow was like the mountain snae<br>
+    Gilt by the morning beam:<br>
+  His cheeks like living roses glow:<br>
+    His een like azure stream.<br>
+  The boy was clad in robes of grene,<br>
+    Sweete as the infant spring:<br>
+  And like the mavis on the bush,<br>
+    He gart the vallies ring.</p>
+
+<p>  The baron came to the grene wode,<br>
+    Wi' mickle dule and care,<br>
+  And there he first spied Gill Morice<br>
+    Kameing his zellow hair:<br>
+  That sweetly wavd around his face,<br>
+    That face beyond compare:<br>
+  He sang sae sweet it might dispel<br>
+    A' rage but fell despair.</p>
+
+<p>  Nae wonder, nae wonder, Gill Mor&igrave;ce,<br>
+    My lady loed thee weel,<br>
+  The fairest part of my bodie<br>
+    Is blacker than thy heel.<br>
+  Zet neir the less now, Gill Mor&igrave;ce,<br>
+    For a' thy great beauti&egrave;,<br>
+  Ze's rew the day ze eir was born;<br>
+    That head sall gae wi' me.</p>
+
+<p>  Now he has drawn his trusty brand,<br>
+    And slaited on the strae;<br>
+  And thro' Gill Morice' fair body<br>
+    He's gar cauld iron gae.<br>
+  And he has tain Gill Morice's head<br>
+    And set it on a speir;<br>
+  The meanest man in a' his train<br>
+    Has gotten that head to bear.</p>
+
+<p>  And he has tain Gill Morice up,<br>
+    Laid him across his steid,<br>
+  And brocht him to his painted bowr,<br>
+    And laid him on a bed.<br>
+  The lady sat on castil wa',<br>
+    Beheld baith dale and doun;<br>
+  And there she saw Gill Morice' head<br>
+    Cum trailing to the toun.</p>
+
+<p>  Far better I loe that bluidy head,<br>
+    Both and that zellow hair,<br>
+  Than Lord Barnard, and a' his lands,<br>
+    As they lig here and thair.<br>
+  And she has tain her Gill Morice,<br>
+    And kissd baith mouth and chin:<br>
+  I was once as fow of Gill Morice,<br>
+    As the hip is o' the stean.</p>
+
+<p>  I got ze in my father's house,<br>
+    Wi' mickle sin and shame;<br>
+  I brocht thee up in gude grene wode,<br>
+    Under the heavy rain.<br>
+  Oft have I by thy cradle sitten,<br>
+    And fondly seen thee sleip;<br>
+  But now I gae about thy grave,<br>
+    The saut tears for to weip.</p>
+
+<p>  And syne she kissd his bluidy cheik,<br>
+    And syne his bluidy chin:<br>
+  O better I loe my Gill Morice<br>
+    Than a' my kith and kin!<br>
+  Away, away, ze ill wom&agrave;n,<br>
+    And an il deith mait ze dee:<br>
+  Gin I had kend he'd bin zour son,<br>
+    He'd neir bin slain for mee.</p>
+
+<p>  Obraid me not, my Lord Barnard!<br>
+    Obraid me not for shame!<br>
+  Wi' that saim speir O pierce my heart!<br>
+    And put me out o' pain.<br>
+  Since nothing bot Gill Morice head<br>
+    Thy jelous rage could quell,<br>
+  Let that saim hand now tak hir life,<br>
+    That neir to thee did ill.</p>
+
+<p>  To me nae after days nor nichts<br>
+    Will eir be saft or kind;<br>
+  I'll fill the air with heavy sighs,<br>
+    And greet till I am blind.<br>
+  Enouch of blood by me's been spilt,<br>
+    Seek not zour death frae mee;<br>
+  I rather lourd it had been my sel<br>
+    Than eather him or thee.</p>
+
+<p>  With waefo wae I hear zour plaint;<br>
+    Sair, sair I rew the deid,<br>
+  That eir this cursed hand of mine<br>
+    Had gard his body bleid.<br>
+  Dry up zour tears, my winsome dame,<br>
+    Ze neir can heal the wound;<br>
+  Ze see his head upon the speir,<br>
+    His heart's blude on the ground.</p>
+
+<p>  I curse the hand that did the deid,<br>
+    The heart that thocht the ill;<br>
+  The feet that bore me wi' sik speid,<br>
+    The comely zouth to kill.<br>
+  I'll ay lament for Gill Morice,<br>
+    As gin he were mine ain;<br>
+  I'll neir forget the dreiry day<br>
+    On which the zouth was slain.</p>
+
+
+<img alt="210.jpg (37K)" src="images/210.jpg" height="372" width="356">
+<br><br><br><br><br><br>
+<h2><a name="chap07"></a>THE CHILD OF ELLE</h2>
+<img alt="211.jpg (72K)" src="images/211.jpg" height="565" width="782">
+<br><br>
+
+<p>  On yondre hill a castle standes<br>
+    With walles and towres bedight,<br>
+   And yonder lives the Child of Elle,<br>
+  A younge and comely knighte.</p>
+
+<p>  The Child of Elle to his garden went,<br>
+    And stood at his garden pale,<br>
+  Whan, lo! he beheld fair Emmelines page<br>
+    Come trippinge downe the dale.</p>
+
+<p>  The Child of Elle he hyed him thence,<br>
+    Y-wis he stoode not stille,<br>
+  And soone he mette faire Emmelines page<br>
+    Come climbinge up the hille.</p>
+
+<p>  Nowe Christe thee save, thou little foot-page,<br>
+    Now Christe thee save and see!<br>
+  Oh telle me how does thy ladye gaye,<br>
+    And what may thy tydinges bee?</p>
+
+<p>  My ladye shee is all woe-begone,<br>
+    And the teares they falle from her eyne;<br>
+  And aye she laments the deadlye feude<br>
+    Betweene her house and thine.</p>
+
+<p>  And here shee sends thee a silken scarfe<br>
+    Bedewde with many a teare,<br>
+  And biddes thee sometimes thinke on her,<br>
+    Who loved thee so deare.</p>
+
+<p>  And here shee sends thee a ring of golde<br>
+    The last boone thou mayst have,<br>
+  And biddes thee weare it for her sake,<br>
+    Whan she is layde in grave.</p>
+
+<p>  For, ah! her gentle heart is broke,<br>
+    And in grave soone must shee bee,<br>
+  Sith her father hath chose her a new new love,<br>
+    And forbidde her to think of thee.</p>
+
+<p>  Her father hath brought her a carlish knight,<br>
+    Sir John of the north countr&agrave;ye,<br>
+  And within three dayes she must him wedde,<br>
+    Or he vowes he will her slaye.</p>
+
+<p>  Nowe hye thee backe, thou little foot-page,<br>
+    And greet thy ladye from mee,<br>
+  And telle her that I her owne true love<br>
+    Will dye, or sette her free.</p>
+
+<p>  Nowe hye thee backe, thou little foot-page,<br>
+    And let thy fair ladye know<br>
+  This night will I bee at her bowre-wind&ograve;we,<br>
+    Betide me weale or woe.</p>
+
+<p>  The boye he tripped, the boye he ranne,<br>
+    He neither stint ne stayd<br>
+  Untill he came to fair Emmelines bowre,<br>
+    Whan kneeling downe he sayd,</p>
+
+<p>  O ladye, I've been with thine own true love,<br>
+    And he greets thee well by mee;<br>
+  This night will hee bee at thy bowre-wind&ograve;we,<br>
+    And dye or sett thee free.</p>
+
+<p>  Nowe daye was gone, and night was come,<br>
+    And all were fast asleepe,<br>
+  All save the Ladye Emmeline,<br>
+    Who sate in her bowre to weepe:</p>
+
+<p>  And soone shee heard her true loves voice<br>
+    Lowe whispering at the walle,<br>
+  Awake, awake, my deare lady&egrave;,<br>
+    Tis I thy true love call.</p>
+
+<p>  Awake, awake, my ladye deare,<br>
+    Come, mount this faire palfr&agrave;ye:<br>
+  This ladder of ropes will lette thee downe<br>
+    He carrye thee hence awaye.</p>
+
+<p>  Nowe nay, nowe nay, thou gentle knight,<br>
+    Nowe nay, this may not bee;<br>
+  For aye shold I tint my maiden fame,<br>
+    If alone I should wend with thee.</p>
+
+<p>  O ladye, thou with a knighte so true<br>
+    Mayst safelye wend alone,<br>
+  To my ladye mother I will thee bringe,<br>
+    Where marriage shall make us one.</p>
+
+<p>  "My father he is a baron bolde,<br>
+    Of lynage proude and hye;<br>
+  And what would he saye if his daught&egrave;r<br>
+    Awaye with a knight should fly</p>
+
+<p>  "Ah! well I wot, he never would rest,<br>
+    Nor his meate should doe him no goode,<br>
+  Until he hath slayne thee, Child of Elle,<br>
+    And scene thy deare hearts bloode."</p>
+
+<p>  O ladye, wert thou in thy saddle sette,<br>
+    And a little space him fro,<br>
+  I would not care for thy cruel fath&egrave;r,<br>
+    Nor the worst that he could doe.</p>
+
+<p>  O ladye, wert thou in thy saddle sette,<br>
+    And once without this walle,<br>
+  I would not care for thy cruel fath&egrave;r<br>
+    Nor the worst that might befalle.</p>
+
+<p>  Faire Emmeline sighed, fair Emmeline wept,<br>
+    And aye her heart was woe:<br>
+  At length he seized her lilly-white hand,<br>
+    And downe the ladder he drewe:</p>
+
+<p>  And thrice he clasped her to his breste,<br>
+    And kist her tenderl&igrave;e:<br>
+  The teares that fell from her fair eyes<br>
+    Ranne like the fountayne free.</p>
+
+<p>  Hee mounted himselfe on his steede so talle,<br>
+    And her on a fair palfr&agrave;ye,<br>
+  And slung his bugle about his necke,<br>
+    And roundlye they rode awaye.</p>
+
+<p>  All this beheard her owne dams&egrave;lle,<br>
+    In her bed whereas shee ley,<br>
+  Quoth shee, My lord shall knowe of this,<br>
+    Soe I shall have golde and fee.</p>
+
+<p>  Awake, awake, thou baron bolde!<br>
+    Awake, my noble dame!<br>
+  Your daughter is fledde with the Child of Elle<br>
+    To doe the deede of shame.</p>
+
+<p>  The baron he woke, the baron he rose,<br>
+    And called his merrye men all:<br>
+  "And come thou forth, Sir John the knighte,<br>
+    Thy ladye is carried to thrall."</p>
+
+<p>  Faire Emmeline scant had ridden a mile,<br>
+    A mile forth of the towne,<br>
+  When she was aware of her fathers men<br>
+    Come galloping over the downe:</p>
+
+<p>  And foremost came the carlish knight,<br>
+    Sir John of the north countr&agrave;ye:<br>
+  "Nowe stop, nowe stop, thou false trait&ograve;ure,<br>
+    Nor carry that ladye awaye.</p>
+
+<p>  "For she is come of hye line&agrave;ge,<br>
+    And was of a ladye borne,<br>
+  And ill it beseems thee, a false churl's sonne,<br>
+    To carrye her hence to scorne."</p>
+
+<p>  Nowe loud thou lyest, Sir John the knight,<br>
+    Nowe thou doest lye of mee;<br>
+  A knight mee gott, and a ladye me bore,<br>
+    Soe never did none by thee</p>
+
+<p>  But light nowe downe, my ladye faire,<br>
+    Light downe, and hold my steed,<br>
+  While I and this discourteous knighte<br>
+    Doe trye this arduous deede.</p>
+
+<p>  But light now downe, my deare lady&egrave;,<br>
+    Light downe, and hold my horse;<br>
+  While I and this discourteous knight<br>
+    Doe trye our valour's force.</p>
+
+<p>  Fair Emmeline sighed, fair Emmeline wept,<br>
+    And aye her heart was woe,<br>
+  While twixt her love and the carlish knight<br>
+    Past many a baleful blowe.</p>
+
+<p>  The Child of Elle hee fought so well,<br>
+    As his weapon he waved amaine,<br>
+  That soone he had slaine the carlish knight,<br>
+    And layd him upon the plaine.</p>
+
+<p>  And nowe the baron and all his men<br>
+    Full fast approached nye:<br>
+  Ah! what may ladye Emmeline doe<br>
+    Twere nowe no boote to flye.</p>
+
+<p>  Her lover he put his horne to his mouth,<br>
+    And blew both loud and shrill,<br>
+  And soone he saw his owne merry men<br>
+    Come ryding over the hill.</p>
+
+<p>  "Nowe hold thy hand, thou bold bar&ograve;n,<br>
+    I pray thee hold thy hand,<br>
+  Nor ruthless rend two gentle hearts<br>
+    Fast knit in true love's band.</p>
+
+<p>  Thy daughter I have dearly loved<br>
+    Full long and many a day;<br>
+  But with such love as holy kirke<br>
+    Hath freelye sayd wee may.</p>
+
+<p>  O give consent, shee may be mine,<br>
+    And blesse a faithfull paire:<br>
+  My lands and livings are not small,<br>
+    My house and lineage faire:</p>
+
+<p>  My mother she was an earl's daught&egrave;r,<br>
+    And a noble knyght my sire--<br>
+  The baron he frowned, and turn'd away<br>
+    With mickle dole and ire.</p>
+
+<p>  Fair Emmeline sighed, faire Emmeline wept,<br>
+    And did all tremblinge stand:<br>
+  At lengthe she sprang upon her knee,<br>
+    And held his lifted hand.</p>
+
+<p>  Pardon, my lorde and father deare,<br>
+    This faire yong knyght and mee:<br>
+  Trust me, but for the carlish knyght,<br>
+    I never had fled from thee.</p>
+
+<p>  Oft have you called your Emmeline<br>
+    Your darling and your joye;<br>
+  O let not then your harsh resolves<br>
+    Your Emmeline destroye.</p>
+
+<p>  The baron he stroakt his dark-brown cheeke,<br>
+    And turned his heade asyde<br>
+  To whipe awaye the starting teare<br>
+    He proudly strave to hyde.</p>
+
+<p>  In deepe revolving thought he stoode,<br>
+    And mused a little space;<br>
+  Then raised faire Emmeline from the grounde,<br>
+    With many a fond embrace.</p>
+
+<p>  Here take her, Child of Elle, he sayd,<br>
+    And gave her lillye white hand;<br>
+  Here take my deare and only child,<br>
+    And with her half my land:</p>
+
+<p>  Thy father once mine honour wrongde<br>
+    In dayes of youthful pride;<br>
+  Do thou the injurye repayre<br>
+    In fondnesse for thy bride.</p>
+
+<p>  And as thou love her, and hold her deare,<br>
+    Heaven prosper thee and thine:<br>
+  And nowe my blessing wend wi' thee,<br>
+    My lovelye Emmeline.</p>
+
+<img alt="221.jpg (25K)" src="images/221.jpg" height="394" width="218">
+<br><br><br><br><br><br>
+<h2><a name="chap08"></a>CHILD WATERS</h2>
+<img alt="222.jpg (138K)" src="images/222.jpg" height="626" width="773">
+<br><br>
+<a name="childwaters"></a>
+<img alt="childwafers.jpg (166K)" src="images/childwafers.jpg" height="1021" width="750">
+
+<p>  Childe Waters in his stable stoode<br>
+    And stroakt his milke white steede:<br>
+  To him a fayre yonge ladye came<br>
+    As ever ware womans weede.</p>
+
+<p>  Sayes, Christ you save, good Childe Waters;<br>
+    Sayes, Christ you save, and see:<br>
+  My girdle of gold that was too longe,<br>
+    Is now too short for mee.</p>
+
+<p>  And all is with one chyld of yours,<br>
+    I feel sturre att my side:<br>
+  My gowne of greene it is too straighte;<br>
+    Before, it was too wide.</p>
+
+<p>  If the child be mine, faire Ellen, he sayd,<br>
+    Be mine, as you tell mee;<br>
+  Then take you Cheshire and Lancashire both,<br>
+    Take them your owne to bee.</p>
+
+<p>  If the childe be mine, fair Ellen, he sayd,<br>
+    Be mine, as you doe sweare;<br>
+  Then take you Cheshire and Lancashire both,<br>
+    And make that child your heyre.</p>
+
+<p>  Shee saies, I had rather have one kisse,<br>
+    Child Waters, of thy mouth;<br>
+  Than I wolde have Cheshire and Lancashire both,<br>
+    That laye by north and south.</p>
+
+<p>  And I had rather have one twinkling,<br>
+    Childe Waters, of thine ee;<br>
+  Then I wolde have Cheshire and Lancashire both,<br>
+    To take them mine owne to bee.</p>
+
+<p>  To morrow, Ellen, I must forth ryde<br>
+    Farr into the north countrie;<br>
+  The fairest lady that I can find,<br>
+    Ellen, must goe with mee.</p>
+
+<p>  'Thoughe I am not that lady fayre,<br>
+    'Yet let me go with thee:'<br>
+  And ever I pray you, Child Wat&egrave;rs,<br>
+    Your foot-page let me bee.</p>
+
+<p>  If you will my foot-page be, Ellen,<br>
+    As you doe tell to mee;<br>
+  Then you must cut your gowne of greene,<br>
+    An inch above your knee:</p>
+
+<p>  Soe must you doe your yellow lockes,<br>
+    An inch above your ee:<br>
+  You must tell no man what is my name;<br>
+    My foot-page then you shall bee.</p>
+
+<p>  Shee, all the long day Child Waters rode,<br>
+    Ran barefoote by his side;<br>
+  Yett was he never soe courteous a knighte,<br>
+    To say, Ellen, will you ryde?</p>
+
+<p>  Shee, all the long day Child Waters rode,<br>
+    Ran barefoote thorow the broome;<br>
+  Yett hee was never soe curteous a knighte,<br>
+    To say, put on your shoone.</p>
+
+<p>  Ride softlye, shee sayd, O Childe Waters,<br>
+    Why doe you ryde soe fast?<br>
+  The childe, which is no mans but thine,<br>
+    My bodye itt will brast.</p>
+
+<p>  Hee sayth, seeth thou yonder water, Ellen,<br>
+    That flows from bank to brimme?--<br>
+  I trust to God, O Child Waters,<br>
+    You never will see mee swimme.</p>
+
+<p>  But when shee came to the waters side,<br>
+    Shee sayled to the chinne:<br>
+  Except the Lord of heaven be my speed,<br>
+    Now must I learne to swimme.</p>
+
+<p>  The salt waters bare up her clothes;<br>
+    Our Ladye bare upp her chinne:<br>
+  Childe Waters was a woe man, good Lord,<br>
+    To see faire Ellen swimme.</p>
+
+<p>  And when shee over the water was,<br>
+    Shee then came to his knee:<br>
+  He said, Come hither, thou fair Ell&egrave;n,<br>
+    Loe yonder what I see.</p>
+
+<p>  Seest thou not yonder hall, Ellen?<br>
+    Of redd gold shines the yate;<br>
+  Of twenty foure faire ladyes there,<br>
+    The fairest is my mate.</p>
+
+<p>  Seest thou not yonder hall, Ellen?<br>
+    Of redd gold shines the towre:<br>
+  There are twenty four fair ladyes there,<br>
+    The fairest is my paramoure.</p>
+
+<p>  I see the hall now, Child Waters,<br>
+    Of redd golde shines the yate:<br>
+  God give you good now of yourselfe,<br>
+    And of your worthye mate.</p>
+
+<p>  I see the hall now, Child Waters,<br>
+    Of redd gold shines the towre:<br>
+  God give you good now of yourselfe,<br>
+    And of your paramoure.</p>
+
+<p>  There twenty four fayre ladyes were<br>
+    A playing att the ball:<br>
+  And Ellen the fairest ladye there,<br>
+    Must bring his steed to the stall.</p>
+
+<p>  There twenty four fayre ladyes were<br>
+    A playinge at the chesse;<br>
+  And Ellen the fayrest ladye there,<br>
+    Must bring his horse to gresse.</p>
+
+<p>  And then bespake Childe Waters sister,<br>
+    These were the wordes said shee:<br>
+  You have the prettyest foot-page, brother,<br>
+    That ever I saw with mine ee.</p>
+
+<p>  But that his bellye it is soe bigg,<br>
+    His girdle goes wonderous hie:<br>
+  And let him, I pray you, Childe Wat&egrave;res,<br>
+    Goe into the chamber with mee.</p>
+
+<p>  It is not fit for a little foot-page,<br>
+    That has run throughe mosse and myre,<br>
+  To go into the chamber with any ladye,<br>
+    That weares soe riche attyre.</p>
+
+<p>  It is more meete for a litle foot-page,<br>
+    That has run throughe mosse and myre,<br>
+  To take his supper upon his knee,<br>
+    And sitt downe by the kitchen fyer.</p>
+
+<p>  But when they had supped every one,<br>
+    To bedd they tooke theyr waye:<br>
+  He sayd, come hither, my little foot-page,<br>
+    And hearken what I saye.</p>
+
+<p>  Goe thee downe into yonder towne,<br>
+    And low into the street;<br>
+  The fayrest ladye that thou can finde,</p>
+
+<p>    Hyer her in mine armes to sleepe,<br>
+  And take her up in thine armes twaine,<br>
+    For filinge of her feete.</p>
+
+<p>  Ellen is gone into the towne,<br>
+    And low into the streete:<br>
+  The fairest ladye that she cold find,<br>
+    Shee hyred in his armes to sleepe;<br>
+  And tooke her up in her armes twayne,<br>
+    For filing of her feete.</p>
+
+<p>  I pray you nowe, good Child Wat&egrave;rs,<br>
+    Let mee lye at your bedds feete:<br>
+  For there is noe place about this house,<br>
+    Where I may 'saye a sleepe.</p>
+
+<p>  'He gave her leave, and faire Ell&egrave;n<br>
+    'Down at his beds feet laye:'<br>
+  This done the nighte drove on apace,<br>
+    And when it was neare the daye,</p>
+
+<p>  Hee sayd, Rise up, my litle foot-page,<br>
+    Give my steede corne and haye;<br>
+  And soe doe thou the good black oats,<br>
+    To carry mee better awaye.</p>
+
+<p>  Up then rose the faire Ell&egrave;n,<br>
+    And gave his steede corne and hay:<br>
+  And soe shee did the good blacke oats,<br>
+    To carry him the better away.</p>
+
+<p>  Shee leaned her backe to the manger side,<br>
+    And grievouslye did groane:<br>
+  Shee leaned her backe to the manger side,<br>
+    And there shee made her moane.</p>
+
+<p>  And that beheard his mother deere,<br>
+    Shee heard her there monand.<br>
+  Shee sayd, Rise up, thou Childe Wat&egrave;rs,<br>
+    I think thee a cursed man.</p>
+
+<p>  For in thy stable is a ghost,<br>
+    That grievouslye doth grone:<br>
+  Or else some woman laboures of childe,<br>
+    She is soe woe-begone.</p>
+
+<p>  Up then rose Childe Waters soon,<br>
+    And did on his shirte of silke;<br>
+  And then he put on his other clothes,<br>
+    On his body as white as milke.</p>
+
+<p>  And when he came to the stable dore,<br>
+    Full still there he did stand,<br>
+  That hee mighte heare his fayre Ell&egrave;n<br>
+    Howe shee made her mon&agrave;nd.</p>
+
+<p>  Shee sayd, Lullabye, mine owne deere child,<br>
+    Lullabye, dere child, dere;<br>
+  I wold thy father were a king,<br>
+    Thy mother layd on a biere.</p>
+
+<p>  Peace now, he said, good faire Ell&egrave;n,<br>
+    Be of good cheere, I praye;<br>
+  And the bridal and the churching both<br>
+    Shall bee upon one day.</p>
+
+
+<br><br><br><br><br><br>
+<h2><a name="chap09"></a>KING EDWARD IV &amp; THE TANNER OF TAMWORTH</h2>
+<img alt="230.jpg (137K)" src="images/230.jpg" height="601" width="782">
+<br><br>
+
+<p>  In summer time, when leaves grow greene,<br>
+     And blossoms bedecke the tree,<br>
+  King Edward wolde a hunting ryde,<br>
+    Some pastime for to see.</p>
+
+<p>  With hawke and hounde he made him bowne,<br>
+    With horne, and eke with bowe;<br>
+  To Drayton Basset he tooke his waye,<br>
+    With all his lordes a rowe.</p>
+
+<p>  And he had ridden ore dale and downe<br>
+    By eight of clocke in the day,<br>
+  When he was ware of a bold tann&egrave;r,<br>
+    Come ryding along the waye.</p>
+
+<p>  A fayre russet coat the tanner had on<br>
+    Fast buttoned under his chin,<br>
+  And under him a good cow-hide,<br>
+    And a marc of four shilling.</p>
+
+<p>  Nowe stand you still, my good lordes all,<br>
+    Under the grene wood spraye;<br>
+  And I will wend to yonder fellowe,<br>
+    To weet what he will saye.</p>
+
+<p>  God speede, God speede thee, said our king.<br>
+    Thou art welcome, Sir, sayd hee.<br>
+  "The readyest waye to Drayton Basset<br>
+    I praye thee to shew to mee."</p>
+
+<p>  "To Drayton Basset woldst thou goe,<br>
+    Fro the place where thou dost stand?<br>
+  The next payre of gallowes thou comest unto,<br>
+    Turne in upon thy right hand."</p>
+
+<p>  That is an unreadye waye, sayd our king,<br>
+    Thou doest but jest, I see;<br>
+  Nowe shewe me out the nearest waye,<br>
+    And I pray thee wend with mee.</p>
+
+<p>  Away with a vengeance! quoth the tanner:<br>
+    I hold thee out of thy witt:<br>
+  All daye have I rydden on Brocke my mare,<br>
+    And I am fasting yett.</p>
+
+<p>  "Go with me downe to Drayton Basset,<br>
+    No daynties we will spare;<br>
+  All daye shalt thou eate and drinke of the best,<br>
+    And I will paye thy fare."</p>
+
+<p>  Gramercye for nothing, the tanner replyde,<br>
+    Thou payest no fare of mine:<br>
+  I trowe I've more nobles in my purse,<br>
+    Than thou hast pence in thine.</p>
+
+<p>  God give thee joy of them, sayd the king,<br>
+    And send them well to priefe.<br>
+  The tanner wolde faine have beene away,<br>
+    For he weende he had beene a thiefe.</p>
+
+<p>  What art thou, hee sayde, thou fine fellowe,<br>
+    Of thee I am in great feare,<br>
+  For the clothes, thou wearest upon thy back,<br>
+    Might beseeme a lord to weare.</p>
+
+<p>  I never stole them, quoth our king,<br>
+    I tell you, Sir, by the roode.<br>
+  "Then thou playest, as many an unthrift doth,<br>
+    And standest in midds of thy goode."</p>
+
+<p>  What tydinges heare you, sayd the kynge,<br>
+    As you ryde farre and neare?<br>
+  "I heare no tydinges, Sir, by the masse,<br>
+    But that cowe-hides are deare."</p>
+
+<p>  "Cow-hides! cow-hides! what things are those?<br>
+     I marvell what they bee?"<br>
+  What, art thou a foole? the tanner reply'd;<br>
+    I carry one under mee.</p>
+
+<p>  What craftsman art thou, said the king,<br>
+    I pray thee tell me trowe.<br>
+  "I am a barker, Sir, by my trade;<br>
+    Nowe tell me what art thou?"</p>
+
+<p>  I am a poor courtier, Sir, quoth he,<br>
+    That am forth of service worne;<br>
+  And faine I wolde thy prentise bee,<br>
+    Thy cunninge for to learne.</p>
+
+<p>  Marrye heaven forfend, the tanner replyde,<br>
+    That thou my prentise were:<br>
+  Thou woldst spend more good than I shold winne<br>
+    By fortye shilling a yere.</p>
+
+<p>  Yet one thinge wolde I, sayd our king,<br>
+    If thou wilt not seeme strange:<br>
+  Thoughe my horse be better than thy mare,<br>
+    Yet with thee I fain wold change.</p>
+
+<p>  "Why if with me thou faine wilt change,<br>
+    As change full well maye wee,<br>
+  By the faith of my bodye, thou proude fellowe<br>
+    I will have some boot of thee."</p>
+
+<p>  That were against reason, sayd the king,<br>
+    I sweare, so mote I thee:<br>
+  My horse is better than thy mare,<br>
+    And that thou well mayst see.</p>
+
+<p>  "Yea, Sir, but Brocke is gentle and mild,<br>
+    And softly she will fare:<br>
+  Thy horse is unrulye and wild, I wiss;<br>
+    Aye skipping here and theare."</p>
+
+<p>  What boote wilt thou have? our king reply'd;<br>
+    Now tell me in this stound.<br>
+  "Noe pence, nor halfpence, by my faye,<br>
+    But a noble in gold so round.</p>
+
+<p>  "Here's twentye groates of white moneye,<br>
+    Sith thou will have it of mee."<br>
+  I would have sworne now, quoth the tanner,<br>
+    Thou hadst not had one pennie.</p>
+
+<p>  But since we two have made a change,<br>
+    A change we must abide,<br>
+  Although thou hast gotten Brocke my mare,<br>
+    Thou gettest not my cowe-hide.</p>
+
+<p>  I will not have it, sayd the kynge,<br>
+    I sweare, so mought I thee;<br>
+  Thy foule cowe-hide I wolde not beare,<br>
+    If thou woldst give it to mee.</p>
+
+<p>  The tanner hee tooke his good cowe-hide,<br>
+    That of the cow was bilt;<br>
+  And threwe it upon the king's sadelle,<br>
+    That was soe fayrelye gilte.<br>
+  "Now help me up, thou fine fellowe,<br>
+    'Tis time that I were gone:<br>
+  When I come home to Gyllian my wife,<br>
+    Sheel say I am a gentilmon."</p>
+
+<p>  The king he tooke him up by the legge;<br>
+    The tanner a f----- lett fall.<br>
+  Nowe marrye, good fellowe, sayd the king,<br>
+    Thy courtesye is but small.</p>
+
+<p>  When the tanner he was in the kinges sad&egrave;lle,<br>
+    And his foote in the stirrup was;<br>
+  He marvelled greatlye in his minde,<br>
+    Whether it were golde or brass.</p>
+
+<p>  But when the steede saw the cows taile wagge,<br>
+    And eke the blacke cowe-horne;<br>
+  He stamped, and stared, and awaye he ranne,<br>
+    As the devill had him borne.</p>
+
+<p>  The tanner he pulld, the tanner he sweat,<br>
+    And held by the pummil fast:<br>
+  At length the tanner came tumbling downe;<br>
+    His necke he had well-nye brast.</p>
+
+<p>  Take thy horse again with a vengeance, he sayd,<br>
+    With mee he shall not byde.<br>
+  "My horse wolde have borne thee well enoughe,<br>
+    But he knewe not of thy cowe-hide.</p>
+
+<p>  Yet if againe thou faine woldst change,<br>
+    As change full well may wee,<br>
+  By the faith of my bodye, thou jolly tann&egrave;r,<br>
+    I will have some boote of thee."</p>
+
+<p>  What boote wilt thou have? the tanner replyd,<br>
+    Nowe tell me in this stounde.<br>
+  "Noe pence nor halfpence, Sir, by my faye,<br>
+    But I will have twentye pound."</p>
+
+<p>  "Here's twentye groates out of my purse;<br>
+    And twentye I have of thine:<br>
+  And I have one more, which we will spend<br>
+    Together at the wine."</p>
+
+<p>  The king set a bugle home to his mouthe,<br>
+    And blewe both loude and shrille:<br>
+  And soone came lords, and soone came knights,<br>
+    Fast ryding over the hille.</p>
+
+<p>  Nowe, out alas! the tanner he cryde,<br>
+    That ever I sawe this daye!<br>
+  Thou art a strong thiefe, yon come thy fellowes<br>
+    Will beare my cowe-hide away.</p>
+
+<p>  They are no thieves, the king replyde,<br>
+    I sweare, soe mote I thee:<br>
+  But they are the lords of the north countr&egrave;y,<br>
+    Here come to hunt with mee.</p>
+
+<p>  And soone before our king they came,<br>
+    And knelt downe on the grounde:<br>
+  Then might the tanner have beene awaye,<br>
+    He had lever than twentye pounde.</p>
+
+<p>  A coller, a coller, here: sayd the king,<br>
+    A coller he loud gan crye:<br>
+  Then woulde he lever than twentye pound,<br>
+    He had not beene so nighe.</p>
+
+<p>  A coller, a coller, the tanner he sayd,<br>
+    I trowe it will breed sorrowe:<br>
+  After a coller cometh a halter,<br>
+    I trow I shall be hang'd to-morrowe.</p>
+
+<p>  Be not afraid, tanner, said our king;<br>
+    I tell thee, so mought I thee,<br>
+  Lo here I make thee the best esquire<br>
+    That is in the North countrie.</p>
+
+<p>  For Plumpton-parke I will give thee,<br>
+    With tenements faire beside:<br>
+  'Tis worth three hundred markes by the yeare,<br>
+    To maintaine thy good cowe-hide.</p>
+
+<p>  Gramercye, my liege, the tanner replyde,<br>
+    For the favour thou hast me showne;<br>
+  If ever thou comest to merry Tamw&ograve;rth,<br>
+    Neates leather shall clout thy shoen.</p>
+
+
+<img alt="238.jpg (24K)" src="images/238.jpg" height="418" width="259">
+<br><br><br><br><br><br>
+<h2><a name="chap10"></a>SIR PATRICK SPENS</h2>
+<img alt="239.jpg (78K)" src="images/239.jpg" height="416" width="809">
+<br><br>
+
+<p>  The king sits in Dumferling toune,<br>
+    Drinking the blude-reid wine:<br>
+  O quhar will I get guid sail&ograve;r,<br>
+    To sail this schip of mine.</p>
+
+<p>  Up and spak an eldern knicht,<br>
+    Sat at the kings richt kne:<br>
+  Sir Patrick Spens is the best sail&ograve;r,<br>
+    That sails upon the se.</p>
+
+<p>  The king has written a braid letter,<br>
+    And signd it wi' his hand;<br>
+  And sent it to Sir Patrick Spens,<br>
+    Was walking on the sand.</p>
+
+<p>  The first line that Sir Patrick red,<br>
+    A loud lauch lauched he:<br>
+  The next line that Sir Patrick red,<br>
+    The teir blinded his ee.</p>
+
+<p>  O quha is this has don this deid,<br>
+    This ill deid don to me;<br>
+  To send me out this time o' the zeir,<br>
+    To sail upon the se.</p>
+
+<p>  Mak hast, mak haste, my mirry men all,<br>
+    Our guid schip sails the morne,<br>
+  O say na sae, my master deir,<br>
+    For I feir a deadlie storme.</p>
+
+<p>  Late late yestreen I saw the new moone<br>
+    Wi' the auld moone in hir arme;<br>
+  And I feir, I feir, my deir master,<br>
+    That we will com to harme.</p>
+
+<p>  O our Scots nobles wer richt laith<br>
+    To weet their cork-heild schoone;<br>
+  Bot lang owre a' the play wer playd,<br>
+    Thair hats they swam aboone.</p>
+
+<p>  O lang, lang, may thair ladies sit<br>
+    Wi' thair fans into their hand,<br>
+  Or eir they se Sir Patrick Spens<br>
+    Cum sailing to the land.</p>
+
+<p>  O lang, lang, may the ladies stand<br>
+    Wi' thair gold kems in their hair,<br>
+  Waiting for thair ain deir lords,<br>
+    For they'll se thame na mair.</p>
+
+<p>  Have owre, have owre to Aberdour,<br>
+    It's fiftie fadom deip:<br>
+  And thair lies guid Sir Patrick Spens,<br>
+    Wi' the Scots lords at his feit.</p>
+
+<img alt="241.jpg (33K)" src="images/241.jpg" height="342" width="402">
+<br><br><br><br><br><br>
+<h2><a name="chap11"></a>THE EARL OF MAR'S DAUGHTER</h2>
+<img alt="242.jpg (94K)" src="images/242.jpg" height="515" width="776">
+<br><br>
+<a name="mars"></a>
+<img alt="mars.jpg (166K)" src="images/mars.jpg" height="983" width="750">
+
+<p>  It was intill a pleasant time,<br>
+    Upon a simmer's day,<br>
+  The noble Earl of Mar's daughter<br>
+  Went forth to sport and play.</p>
+
+<p>  As thus she did amuse hersell,<br>
+    Below a green aik tree,<br>
+  There she saw a sprightly doo<br>
+    Set on a tower sae hie.</p>
+
+<p>  "O cow-me-doo, my love sae true,<br>
+    If ye'll come down to me,<br>
+  Ye 'se hae a cage o guid red gowd<br>
+    Instead o simple tree:</p>
+
+<p>  "I'll put growd hingers roun your cage,<br>
+    And siller roun your wa;<br>
+  I'll gar ye shine as fair a bird<br>
+    As ony o them a'."</p>
+
+<p>  But she hadnae these words well spoke,<br>
+    Nor yet these words well said,<br>
+  Till Cow-me-doo flew frae the tower<br>
+    And lighted on her head.</p>
+
+<p>  Then she has brought this pretty bird<br>
+    Hame to her bowers and ba,<br>
+  And made him shine as fair a bird<br>
+    As ony o them a'.</p>
+
+<p>  When day was gane, and night was come,<br>
+    About the evening tide,<br>
+  This lady spied a sprightly youth<br>
+    Stand straight up by her side.</p>
+
+<p>  "From whence came ye, young man?" she said;<br>
+    "That does surprise me sair;<br>
+  My door was bolted right secure,<br>
+    What way hae ye come here?"</p>
+
+<p>  "O had your tongue, ye lady fair,<br>
+    Lat a' your folly be;<br>
+  Mind ye not on your turtle-doo<br>
+    Last day ye brought wi thee?"</p>
+
+<p>  "O tell me mair, young man," she said,<br>
+    "This does surprise me now;<br>
+  What country hae ye come frae?<br>
+    What pedigree are you?"</p>
+
+<p>  "My mither lives on foreign isles,<br>
+    She has nae mair but me;<br>
+  She is a queen o wealth and state,<br>
+    And birth and high degree.</p>
+
+<p>  "Likewise well skilld in magic spells,<br>
+    As ye may plainly see,<br>
+  And she transformd me to yon shape,<br>
+    To charm such maids as thee.</p>
+
+<p>  "I am a doo the live-lang day,<br>
+    A sprightly youth at night;<br>
+  This aye gars me appear mair fair<br>
+    In a fair maiden's sight.</p>
+
+<p>  "And it was but this verra day<br>
+    That I came ower the sea;<br>
+  Your lovely face did me enchant;<br>
+    I'll live and dee wi thee."</p>
+
+<p>  "O Cow-me-doo, my luve sae true,<br>
+    Nae mair frae me ye 'se gae;<br>
+  That's never my intent, my luve,<br>
+    As ye said, it shall be sae."</p>
+
+<p>  "O Cow-me-doo, my luve sae true,<br>
+    It's time to gae to bed;"<br>
+  "Wi a' my heart, my dear marrow,<br>
+    It's be as ye hae said."</p>
+
+<p>  Then he has staid in bower wi her<br>
+    For sax lang years and ane,<br>
+  Till sax young sons to him she bare,<br>
+    And the seventh she's brought hame.</p>
+
+<p>  But aye as ever a child was born<br>
+    He carried them away,<br>
+  And brought them to his mither's care,<br>
+    As fast as he coud fly.</p>
+
+<p>  Thus he has staid in bower wi her<br>
+    For twenty years and three;<br>
+  There came a lord o high renown<br>
+    To court this fair ladie.</p>
+
+<p>  But still his proffer she refused,<br>
+    And a' his presents too;<br>
+  Says, I'm content to live alane<br>
+    Wi my bird, Cow-me-doo.</p>
+
+<p>  Her father sware a solemn oath<br>
+    Amang the nobles all,<br>
+  "The morn, or ere I eat or drink,<br>
+    This bird I will gar kill."</p>
+
+<p>  The bird was sitting in his cage,<br>
+    And heard what they did say;<br>
+  And when he found they were dismist,<br>
+    Says, Wae's me for this day!</p>
+
+<p>  "Before that I do langer stay,<br>
+    And thus to be forlorn,<br>
+  I'll gang unto my mither's bower,<br>
+    Where I was bred and born."</p>
+
+<p>  Then Cow-me-doo took flight and flew<br>
+    Beyond the raging sea,<br>
+  And lighted near his mither's castle,<br>
+    On a tower o gowd sae hie.</p>
+
+<p>  As his mither was wauking out,<br>
+    To see what she coud see,<br>
+  And there she saw her little son,<br>
+    Set on the tower sae hie.</p>
+
+<p>  "Get dancers here to dance," she said,<br>
+    "And minstrells for to play;<br>
+  For here's my young son, Florentine,<br>
+    Come here wi me to stay."</p>
+
+<p>  "Get nae dancers to dance, mither,<br>
+    Nor minstrells for to play,<br>
+  For the mither o my seven sons,<br>
+    The morn's her wedding-day."</p>
+
+<p>  "O tell me, tell me, Florentine,<br>
+    Tell me, and tell me true,<br>
+  Tell me this day without a flaw,<br>
+    What I will do for you."</p>
+
+<p>  "Instead of dancers to dance, mither,<br>
+    Or minstrells for to play,<br>
+  Turn four-and-twenty wall-wight men<br>
+    Like storks in feathers gray;</p>
+
+<p>  "My seven sons in seven swans,<br>
+    Aboon their heads to flee;<br>
+  And I mysell a gay gos-hawk,<br>
+    A bird o high degree."</p>
+
+<p>  Then sichin said the queen hersell,<br>
+    "That thing's too high for me;"<br>
+  But she applied to an auld woman,<br>
+    Who had mair skill than she.</p>
+
+<p>  Instead o dancers to dance a dance,<br>
+    Or minstrells for to play,<br>
+  Four-and-twenty wall-wight men<br>
+    Turnd birds o feathers gray;</p>
+
+<p>  Her seven sons in seven swans,<br>
+    Aboon their heads to flee;<br>
+  And he himsell a gay gos-hawk,<br>
+    A bird o high degree.</p>
+
+<p>  This flock o birds took flight and flew<br>
+    Beyond the raging sea,<br>
+  And landed near the Earl Mar's castle,<br>
+    Took shelter in every tree.</p>
+
+<p>  They were a flock o pretty birds,<br>
+    Right comely to be seen;<br>
+  The people viewed them wi surprise,<br>
+    As they dancd on the green.</p>
+
+<p>  These birds ascended frae the tree<br>
+    And lighted on the ha,<br>
+  And at the last wi force did flee<br>
+    Amang the nobles a'.</p>
+
+<p>  The storks there seized some o the men,<br>
+    They coud neither fight nor flee;<br>
+  The swans they bound the bride's best man<br>
+    Below a green aik tree.</p>
+
+<p>  They lighted next on maidens fair,<br>
+    Then on the bride's own head,<br>
+  And wi the twinkling o an ee<br>
+    The bride and them were fled.</p>
+
+<p>  There's ancient men at weddings been<br>
+    For sixty years or more,<br>
+  But sic a curious wedding-day<br>
+    They never saw before.</p>
+
+<p>  For naething coud the companie do.<br>
+    Nor naething coud they say<br>
+  But they saw a flock o pretty birds<br>
+    That took their bride away.</p>
+
+<p>  When that Earl Mar he came to know<br>
+    Where his dochter did stay,<br>
+  He signd a bond o unity,<br>
+    And visits now they pay.</p>
+
+<img alt="249.jpg (26K)" src="images/249.jpg" height="394" width="446">
+<br><br><br><br><br><br>
+
+
+
+
+<br>
+<br>
+<hr>
+<br><br><br><br><br><br>
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<pre>
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of A Book of Ballads, Volume 3, by Various
+
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+</pre>
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+</body>
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+This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements,
+metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be
+in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES.
+
+Procedures for determining public domain status are described in
+the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org.
+
+No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in
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+status under the laws that apply to them.
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+Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for
+eBook #7533 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/7533)
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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of A Book of Ballads, Volume 3, by Various
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: A Book of Ballads, Volume 3
+
+Author: Various
+
+Editor: Beverly Nichols
+
+Posting Date: April 29, 2014 [EBook #7533]
+Release Date: February, 2005
+First Posted: May 15, 2003
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A BOOK OF BALLADS, VOLUME 3 ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by David Widger, Juliet Sutherland, Phil McLaury,
+Charles Franks and the Online Distributed Proofreading
+Team. Text version by Al Haines.
+
+
+
+
+
+`
+
+
+
+
+A BOOK OF OLD BALLADS
+
+Selected and with an Introduction
+
+by
+
+BEVERLEY NICHOLS
+
+
+[Illustration: Title page art]
+
+
+
+
+
+  CONTENTS
+
+  CLERK COLVILL
+  SIR ALDINGAR
+  EDOM O' GORDON
+  CHEVY CHACE
+  SIR LANCELOT DU LAKE
+  GIL MORRICE
+  THE CHILD OF ELLE
+  CHILD WATERS
+  KING EDWARD IV AND THE TANNER OF TAMWORTH
+  SIR PATRICK SPENS
+  THE EARL OF MAR'S DAUGHTER
+
+
+
+  LIST OF COLOUR PLATES
+
+  CLERK COLVILL
+  GIL MORRICE
+  CHILD WATERS
+  THE EARL OF MAR'S DAUGHTER
+
+
+
+
+CLERK COLVILL
+
+[Illustration: Clerk Colvill headpiece]
+
+
+[Illustration: Clerk Colvill]
+
+
+  Clerk Colvill and his lusty dame
+    Were walking in the garden green;
+  The belt around her stately waist
+    Cost Clerk Colvill of pounds fifteen.
+
+  "O promise me now, Clerk Colvill,
+    Or it will cost ye muckle strife,
+  Ride never by the wells of Slane,
+    If ye wad live and brook your life."
+
+  "Now speak nae mair, my lusty dame,
+    Now speak nae mair of that to me;
+  Did I neer see a fair woman,
+    But I wad sin with her body?"
+
+  He's taen leave o his gay lady,
+    Nought minding what his lady said,
+  And he's rode by the wells of Slane,
+    Where washing was a bonny maid.
+
+  "Wash on, wash on, my bonny maid,
+    That wash sae clean your sark of silk;"
+  "And weel fa you, fair gentleman,
+    Your body whiter than the milk."
+
+      *       *       *       *       *
+
+  Then loud, loud cry'd the Clerk Colvill,
+    "O my head it pains me sair;"
+  "Then take, then take," the maiden said,
+    "And frae my sark you'll cut a gare."
+
+  Then she's gied him a little bane-knife,
+    And frae her sark he cut a share;
+  She's ty'd it round his whey-white face,
+    But ay his head it aked mair.
+
+  Then louder cry'd the Clerk Colville,
+    "O sairer, sairer akes my head;"
+  "And sairer, sairer ever will,"
+    The maiden crys, "till you be dead."
+
+  Out then he drew his shining blade,
+    Thinking to stick her where she stood,
+  But she was vanished to a fish,
+    And swam far off, a fair mermaid.
+
+  "O mother, mother, braid my hair;
+    My lusty lady, make my bed;
+  O brother, take my sword and spear,
+    For I have seen the false mermaid."
+
+
+
+
+SIR ALDINGAR
+
+[Illustration: Sir Aldingar headpiece]
+
+
+  Our king he kept a false stewàrde,
+    Sir Aldingar they him call;
+  A falser steward than he was one,
+    Servde not in bower nor hall.
+
+  He wolde have layne by our comelye queene,
+    Her deere worshippe to betraye:
+  Our queene she was a good womàn,
+    And evermore said him naye.
+
+  Sir Aldingar was wrothe in his mind,
+    With her hee was never content,
+  Till traiterous meanes he colde devyse,
+    In a fyer to have her brent.
+
+  There came a lazar to the kings gate,
+    A lazar both blinde and lame:
+  He tooke the lazar upon his backe,
+    Him on the queenes bed has layne.
+
+  "Lye still, lazar, whereas thou lyest,
+    Looke thou goe not hence away;
+  He make thee a whole man and a sound
+    In two howers of the day."
+
+  Then went him forth Sir Aldingar,
+    And hyed him to our king:
+  "If I might have grace, as I have space,
+    Sad tydings I could bring."
+
+  Say on, say on, Sir Aldingar,
+    Saye on the soothe to mee.
+  "Our queene hath chosen a new new love,
+    And shee will have none of thee.
+
+  "If shee had chosen a right good knight,
+    The lesse had beene her shame;
+  But she hath chose her a lazar man,
+    A lazar both blinde and lame."
+
+  If this be true, thou Aldingar,
+    The tyding thou tellest to me,
+  Then will I make thee a rich rich knight,
+    Rich both of golde and fee.
+
+  But if it be false, Sir Aldingar,
+    As God nowe grant it bee!
+  Thy body, I sweare by the holye rood,
+    Shall hang on the gallows tree.
+
+  He brought our king to the queenes chambèr,
+    And opend to him the dore.
+  A lodlye love, King Harry says,
+    For our queene dame Elinore!
+
+  If thou were a man, as thou art none,
+    Here on my sword thoust dye;
+  But a payre of new gallowes shall be built,
+    And there shalt thou hang on hye.
+
+  Forth then hyed our king, I wysse,
+    And an angry man was hee;
+  And soone he found Queen Elinore,
+    That bride so bright of blee.
+
+  Now God you save, our queene, madame,
+    And Christ you save and see;
+  Heere you have chosen a newe newe love,
+    And you will have none of mee.
+
+  If you had chosen a right good knight,
+    The lesse had been your shame;
+  But you have chose you a lazar man,
+    A lazar both blinde and lame.
+
+  Therfore a fyer there shalt be built,
+    And brent all shalt thou bee.--
+  Now out alacke! said our comly queene,
+    Sir Aldingar's false to mee.
+
+  Now out alacke! sayd our comlye queene,
+    My heart with griefe will brast.
+  I had thought swevens had never been true;
+    I have proved them true at last.
+
+  I dreamt in my sweven on Thursday eve,
+    In my bed whereas I laye.
+  I dreamt a grype and a grimlie beast
+    Had carryed my crowne awaye;
+
+  My gorgett and my kirtle of golde,
+    And all my faire head-geere:
+  And he wold worrye me with his tush
+    And to his nest y-beare:
+
+  Saving there came a little 'gray' hawke,
+    A merlin him they call,
+  Which untill the grounde did strike the grype,
+    That dead he downe did fall.
+
+  Giffe I were a man, as now I am none,
+    A battell wold I prove,
+  To fight with that traitor Aldingar,
+    Att him I cast my glove.
+
+  But seeing Ime able noe battell to make,
+    My liege, grant me a knight
+  To fight with that traitor Sir Aldingar,
+    To maintaine me in my right.
+
+  "Now forty dayes I will give thee
+    To seeke thee a knight therein:
+  If thou find not a knight in forty dayes
+    Thy bodye it must brenn."
+
+  Then shee sent east, and shee sent west,
+    By north and south bedeene:
+  But never a champion colde she find,
+    Wolde fight with that knight soe keene.
+
+  Now twenty dayes were spent and gone,
+    Noe helpe there might be had;
+  Many a teare shed our comelye queene
+    And aye her hart was sad.
+
+  Then came one of the queenes damsèlles,
+    And knelt upon her knee,
+  "Cheare up, cheare up, my gracious dame,
+    I trust yet helpe may be:
+
+  And here I will make mine avowe,
+    And with the same me binde;
+  That never will I return to thee,
+    Till I some helpe may finde."
+
+  Then forth she rode on a faire palfràye
+    Oer hill and dale about:
+  But never a champion colde she finde,
+    Wolde fighte with that knight so stout.
+
+  And nowe the daye drewe on a pace,
+    When our good queene must dye;
+  All woe-begone was that faire damsèlle,
+    When she found no helpe was nye.
+
+  All woe-begone was that faire damsèlle,
+    And the salt teares fell from her eye:
+  When lo! as she rode by a rivers side,
+    She met with a tinye boye.
+
+  A tinye boye she mette, God wot,
+    All clad in mantle of golde;
+  He seemed noe more in mans likenèsse,
+    Then a childe of four yeere old.
+
+  Why grieve you, damselle faire, he sayd,
+    And what doth cause you moane?
+  The damsell scant wolde deigne a looke,
+    But fast she pricked on.
+
+  Yet turne againe, thou faire damsèlle
+    And greete thy queene from mee:
+  When bale is att hyest, boote is nyest,
+    Nowe helpe enoughe may bee.
+
+  Bid her remember what she dreamt
+    In her bedd, wheras shee laye;
+  How when the grype and grimly beast
+    Wolde have carried her crowne awaye,
+
+  Even then there came the little gray hawke,
+    And saved her from his clawes:
+  Then bidd the queene be merry at hart,
+    For heaven will fende her cause.
+
+  Back then rode that faire damsèlle,
+    And her hart it lept for glee:
+  And when she told her gracious dame
+    A gladd woman then was shee:
+
+  But when the appointed day was come,
+    No helpe appeared nye:
+  Then woeful, woeful was her hart,
+    And the teares stood in her eye.
+
+  And nowe a fyer was built of wood;
+    And a stake was made of tree;
+  And now Queene Elinor forth was led,
+    A sorrowful sight to see.
+
+  Three times the herault he waved his hand,
+    And three times spake on hye:
+  Giff any good knight will fende this dame,
+    Come forth, or shee must dye.
+
+  No knight stood forth, no knight there came,
+    No helpe appeared nye:
+  And now the fyer was lighted up,
+    Queen Elinor she must dye.
+
+  And now the fyer was lighted up,
+    As hot as hot might bee;
+  When riding upon a little white steed,
+    The tinye boy they see.
+
+  "Away with that stake, away with those brands,
+    And loose our comelye queene:
+  I am come to fight with Sir Aldingar,
+    And prove him a traitor keene."
+
+  Forthe then stood Sir Aldingar,
+    But when he saw the chylde,
+  He laughed, and scoffed, and turned his backe,
+    And weened he had been beguylde.
+
+  "Now turne, now turne thee, Aldingar,
+    And eyther fighte or flee;
+  I trust that I shall avenge the wronge,
+    Thoughe I am so small to see."
+
+  The boy pulld forth a well good sworde
+    So gilt it dazzled the ee;
+  The first stroke stricken at Aldingar,
+    Smote off his leggs by the knee.
+
+  "Stand up, stand up, thou false traitòr,
+    And fight upon thy feete,
+  For and thou thrive, as thou begin'st,
+    Of height wee shall be meete."
+
+  A priest, a priest, sayes Aldingàr,
+    While I am a man alive.
+  A priest, a priest, sayes Aldingàr,
+    Me for to houzle and shrive.
+
+  I wolde have laine by our comlie queene,
+    Bot shee wolde never consent;
+  Then I thought to betraye her unto our kinge
+    In a fyer to have her brent.
+
+  There came a lazar to the kings gates,
+    A lazar both blind and lame:
+  I tooke the lazar upon my backe,
+    And on her bedd had him layne.
+
+  Then ranne I to our comlye king,
+    These tidings sore to tell.
+  But ever alacke! sayes Aldingar,
+    Falsing never doth well.
+
+  Forgive, forgive me, queene, madame,
+    The short time I must live.
+  "Nowe Christ forgive thee, Aldingar,
+    As freely I forgive."
+
+  Here take thy queene, our king Harryè,
+    And love her as thy life,
+  For never had a king in Christentye.
+    A truer and fairer wife.
+
+  King Henrye ran to claspe his queene,
+    And loosed her full sone:
+  Then turned to look for the tinye boye;
+    --The boye was vanisht and gone.
+
+  But first he had touched the lazar man,
+    And stroakt him with his hand:
+  The lazar under the gallowes tree
+    All whole and sounde did stand.
+
+  The lazar under the gallowes tree
+    Was comelye, straight and tall;
+  King Henrye made him his head stewàrde
+    To wayte withinn his hall.
+
+
+
+
+EDOM O' GORDON
+
+[Illustration: Edom O' Gordon headpiece]
+
+
+  It fell about the Martinmas,
+    Quhen the wind blew shril and cauld,
+  Said Edom o' Gordon to his men,
+    We maun draw till a hauld.
+
+  And quhat a hauld sall we draw till,
+    My mirry men and me?
+  We wul gae to the house o' the Rodes,
+    To see that fair ladie.
+
+  The lady stude on her castle wa',
+    Beheld baith dale and down:
+  There she was ware of a host of men
+    Cum ryding towards the toun.
+
+  O see ze nat, my mirry men a'?
+    O see za nat quhat I see?
+  Methinks I see a host of men:
+    I marveil quha they be.
+
+  She weend it had been hir luvely lord,
+    As he cam ryding hame;
+  It was the traitor Edom o' Gordon,
+    Quha reckt nae sin nor shame.
+
+  She had nae sooner buskit hirsel,
+    And putten on hir goun,
+  But Edom o' Gordon and his men
+    Were round about the toun.
+
+  They had nae sooner supper sett,
+    Nae sooner said the grace,
+  But Edom o' Gordon and his men
+    Were light about the place.
+
+  The lady ran up to hir towir head,
+    Sa fast as she could hie,
+  To see if by hir fair speechès
+    She could wi' him agree.
+
+  But quhan he see this lady saif,
+    And hir yates all locked fast,
+  He fell into a rage of wrath,
+    And his look was all aghast.
+
+  Cum doun to me, ze lady gay,
+    Cum doun, cum doun to me:
+  This night sall ye lig within mine armes,
+    To-morrow my bride sall be.
+
+  I winnae cum doun ze fals Gordòn,
+    I winnae cum doun to thee;
+  I winna forsake my ain dear lord,
+    That is sae far frae me.
+
+  Give owre zour house, ze lady fair,
+    Give owre zour house to me,
+  Or I sall brenn yoursel therein,
+    Bot and zour babies three.
+
+  I winnae give owre, ze false Gordòn,
+    To nae sik traitor as zee;
+  And if ze brenn my ain dear babes,
+    My lord sall make ze drie.
+
+  But reach my pistoll, Glaud my man,
+    And charge ze weil my gun:
+  For, but an I pierce that bluidy butcher,
+    My babes we been undone.
+
+  She stude upon hir castle wa',
+    And let twa bullets flee:
+  She mist that bluidy butchers hart,
+    And only raz'd his knee.
+
+  Set fire to the house, quo' fals Gordòn,
+    All wood wi' dule and ire:
+  Fals lady, ze sall rue this deid,
+    As ze bren in the fire.
+
+  Wae worth, wae worth ze, Jock my man,
+    I paid ze weil zour fee;
+  Quhy pu' ze out the ground-wa' stane,
+    Lets in the reek to me?
+
+  And ein wae worth ze, Jock my man,
+    I paid ze weil zour hire;
+  Quhy pu' ze out the ground-wa' stane,
+    To me lets in the fire?
+
+  Ze paid me weil my hire, lady;
+    Ze paid me weil my fee:
+  But now I'm Edom o' Gordons man,
+    Maun either doe or die.
+
+  O than bespaik hir little son,
+    Sate on the nurses knee:
+  Sayes, Mither deare, gi' owre this house,
+    For the reek it smithers me.
+
+  I wad gie a' my gowd, my childe,
+    Say wald I a' my fee,
+  For ane blast o' the western wind,
+    To blaw the reek frae thee.
+
+  O then bespaik hir dochter dear,
+    She was baith jimp and sma;
+  O row me in a pair o' sheits,
+    And tow me owre the wa.
+
+  They rowd hir in a pair o' sheits,
+    And towd hir owre the wa:
+  But on the point of Gordons spear
+    She gat a deadly fa.
+
+  O bonnie bonnie was hir mouth,
+    And cherry were her cheiks,
+  And clear clear was hir zellow hair,
+    Whereon the reid bluid dreips.
+
+  Then wi' his spear he turnd hir owre,
+    O gin hir face was wan!
+  He sayd, Ze are the first that eir
+    I wisht alive again.
+
+  He turnd hir owre and owre againe,
+    O gin hir skin was whyte!
+  I might ha spared that bonnie face
+    To hae been sum mans delyte.
+
+  Busk and boun, my merry men a',
+    For ill dooms I doe guess;
+  I cannae luik in that bonnie face,
+    As it lyes on the grass.
+
+  Thame, luiks to freits, my master deir,
+    Then freits wil follow thame:
+  Let neir be said brave Edom o' Gordon
+    Was daunted by a dame.
+
+  But quhen the ladye see the fire
+    Cum flaming owre hir head,
+  She wept and kist her children twain,
+    Sayd, Bairns, we been but dead.
+
+  The Gordon then his bougill blew,
+    And said, Awa', awa';
+  This house o' the Rodes is a' in flame,
+    I hauld it time to ga'.
+
+  O then bespyed hir ain dear lord,
+    As hee cam owr the lee;
+  He sied his castle all in blaze
+     Sa far as he could see.
+
+  Then sair, O sair his mind misgave,
+    And all his hart was wae;
+  Put on, put on, my wighty men,
+    So fast as ze can gae.
+
+  Put on, put on, my wighty men,
+    Sa fast as ze can drie;
+  For he that is hindmost of the thrang
+    Sall neir get guid o' me.
+
+  Than sum they rade, and sum they rin,
+    Fou fast out-owr the bent;
+  But eir the foremost could get up,
+    Baith lady and babes were brent.
+
+  He wrang his hands, he rent his hair,
+    And wept in teenefu' muid:
+  O traitors, for this cruel deid
+    Ze sall weep tiers o' bluid.
+
+  And after the Gordon he is gane,
+    Sa fast as he might drie.
+  And soon i' the Gordon's foul hartis bluid
+    He's wroken his dear ladie.
+
+
+[Illustration: Edom O' Gordon tailpiece]
+
+
+
+
+CHEVY CHACE
+
+[Illustration: Chevy Chace headpiece]
+
+
+  God prosper long our noble king,
+    Our lives and safetyes all;
+  A woefull hunting once there did
+    In Chevy-Chace befall;
+
+  To drive the deere with hound and horne,
+    Erle Percy took his way,
+  The child may rue that is unborne,
+    The hunting of that day.
+
+  The stout Erle of Northumberland
+    A vow to God did make,
+  His pleasure in the Scottish woods
+    Three summers days to take;
+
+  The cheefest harts in Chevy-chace
+    To kill and beare away.
+  These tydings to Erle Douglas came,
+    In Scotland where he lay:
+
+  Who sent Erle Percy present word,
+    He wold prevent his sport.
+  The English erle, not fearing that,
+    Did to the woods resort
+
+  With fifteen hundred bow-men bold;
+    All chosen men of might,
+  Who knew full well in time of neede
+    To ayme their shafts arright.
+
+  The galland greyhounds swiftly ran,
+    To chase the fallow deere:
+  On munday they began to hunt,
+    Ere day-light did appeare;
+
+  And long before high noone they had
+    An hundred fat buckes slaine;
+  Then having dined, the drovyers went
+    To rouze the deare againe.
+
+  The bow-men mustered on the hills,
+    Well able to endure;
+  Theire backsides all, with speciall care,
+    That day were guarded sure.
+
+  The hounds ran swiftly through the woods,
+    The nimble deere to take,
+  That with their cryes the hills and dales
+    An eccho shrill did make.
+
+  Lord Percy to the quarry went,
+    To view the slaughter'd deere;
+  Quoth he, Erle Douglas promised
+    This day to meet me heere:
+
+  But if I thought he wold not come,
+    Noe longer wold I stay.
+  With that, a brave younge gentleman
+    Thus to the Erle did say:
+
+  Loe, yonder doth Erle Douglas come,
+    His men in armour bright;
+  Full twenty hundred Scottish speres
+    All marching in our sight;
+
+  All men of pleasant Tivydale,
+    Fast by the river Tweede:
+  O cease your sports, Erle Percy said,
+    And take your bowes with speede:
+
+  And now with me, my countrymen,
+    Your courage forth advance;
+  For there was never champion yett,
+    In Scotland nor in France,
+
+  That ever did on horsebacke come,
+    But if my hap it were,
+  I durst encounter man for man,
+    With him to break a spere.
+
+  Erle Douglas on his milke-white steede,
+    Most like a baron bolde,
+  Rode foremost of his company,
+    Whose armour shone like gold.
+
+  Show me, sayd hee, whose men you bee,
+    That hunt soe boldly heere,
+  That, without my consent, doe chase
+    And kill my fallow-deere.
+
+  The first man that did answer make
+    Was noble Percy hee;
+  Who sayd, Wee list not to declare,
+    Nor shew whose men wee bee:
+
+  Yet wee will spend our deerest blood,
+    Thy cheefest harts to slay.
+  Then Douglas swore a solempne oathe,
+    And thus in rage did say,
+
+  Ere thus I will out-braved bee,
+    One of us two shall dye:
+  I know thee well, an erle thou art;
+    Lord Percy, soe am I.
+
+  But trust me, Percy, pittye it were,
+    And great offence to kill
+  Any of these our guiltlesse men,
+    For they have done no ill.
+
+  Let thou and I the battell trye,
+    And set our men aside.
+  Accurst bee he, Erle Percy sayd,
+    By whome this is denyed.
+
+  Then stept a gallant squier forth,
+    Witherington was his name,
+  Who said, I wold not have it told
+    To Henry our king for shame,
+
+  That ere my captaine fought on foote,
+    And I stood looking on.
+  You be two erles, sayd Witherington,
+    And I a squier alone:
+
+  He doe the best that doe I may,
+    While I have power to stand:
+  While I have power to weeld my sword
+    He fight with hart and hand.
+
+  Our English archers bent their bowes,
+    Their harts were good and trew;
+  Att the first flight of arrowes sent,
+    Full four-score Scots they slew.
+
+  Yet bides Earl Douglas on the bent,
+    As Chieftain stout and good.
+  As valiant Captain, all unmov'd
+    The shock he firmly stood.
+
+  His host he parted had in three,
+    As Leader ware and try'd,
+  And soon his spearmen on their foes
+    Bare down on every side.
+
+  To drive the deere with hound and horne,
+    Douglas bade on the bent
+  Two captaines moved with mickle might
+    Their speres to shivers went.
+
+  Throughout the English archery
+    They dealt full many a wound:
+  But still our valiant Englishmen
+    All firmly kept their ground:
+
+  And throwing strait their bows away,
+    They grasp'd their swords so bright:
+  And now sharp blows, a heavy shower,
+    On shields and helmets light.
+
+  They closed full fast on every side,
+    Noe slackness there was found:
+  And many a gallant gentleman
+    Lay gasping on the ground.
+
+  O Christ! it was a griefe to see;
+    And likewise for to heare,
+  The cries of men lying in their gore,
+    And scattered here and there.
+
+  At last these two stout erles did meet,
+    Like captaines of great might:
+  Like lyons wood, they layd on lode,
+    And made a cruell fight:
+
+  They fought untill they both did sweat,
+    With swords of tempered steele;
+  Untill the blood, like drops of rain,
+    They tricklin downe did feele.
+
+  Yeeld thee, Lord Percy, Douglas sayd
+    In faith I will thee bringe,
+  Where thou shalt high advanced bee
+    By James our Scottish king:
+
+  Thy ransome I will freely give,
+    And this report of thee,
+  Thou art the most couragious knight,
+    That ever I did see.
+
+  Noe, Douglas, quoth Erle Percy then,
+    Thy proffer I doe scorne;
+  I will not yeelde to any Scott,
+    That ever yett was borne.
+
+  With that, there came an arrow keene
+    Out of an English bow,
+  Which struck Erle Douglas to the heart,
+    A deepe and deadlye blow:
+
+  Who never spake more words than these,
+    Fight on, my merry men all;
+  For why, my life is at an end;
+    Lord Percy sees my fall.
+
+  Then leaving liffe, Erie Percy tooke
+    The dead man by the hand;
+  And said, Erle Douglas, for thy life
+    Wold I had lost my land.
+
+  O Christ! my verry hart doth bleed
+    With sorrow for thy sake;
+  For sure, a more redoubted knight
+    Mischance cold never take.
+
+  A knight amongst the Scotts there was
+    Which saw Erle Douglas dye,
+  Who streight in wrath did vow revenge
+    Upon the Lord Percye:
+
+  Sir Hugh Mountgomery was he call'd,
+    Who, with a spere most bright,
+  Well-mounted on a gallant steed,
+    Ran fiercely through the fight;
+
+  And past the English archers all,
+    Without all dread or feare;
+  And through Earl Percyes body then
+    He thrust his hatefull spere;
+
+  With such a vehement force and might
+    He did his body gore,
+  The staff ran through the other side
+    A large cloth-yard and more.
+
+  So thus did both these nobles dye,
+    Whose courage none could staine:
+  An English archer then perceiv'd
+    The noble erle was slaine;
+
+  He had a bow bent in his hand,
+    Made of a trusty tree;
+  An arrow of a cloth-yard long
+    Up to the head drew hee:
+
+  Against Sir Hugh Mountgomerye,
+    So right the shaft he sett,
+  The grey goose-winge that was thereon,
+    In his harts bloode was wette.
+
+  This fight did last from breake of day,
+    Till setting of the sun;
+  For when they rang the evening-bell,
+    The battel scarce was done.
+
+  With stout Erle Percy there was slaine
+    Sir John of Egerton,
+  Sir Robert Ratcliff, and Sir John,
+    Sir James that bold barròn:
+
+  And with Sir George and stout Sir James,
+    Both knights of good account,
+  Good Sir Ralph Raby there was slaine,
+    Whose prowesse did surmount.
+
+  For Witherington needs must I wayle,
+    As one in doleful dumpes;
+  For when his leggs were smitten off,
+    He fought upon his stumpes.
+
+  And with Erle Douglas, there was slaine
+    Sir Hugh Montgomerye,
+  Sir Charles Murray, that from the feeld
+    One foote wold never flee.
+
+  Sir Charles Murray, of Ratcliff, too,
+    His sisters sonne was hee;
+  Sir David Lamb, so well esteem'd,
+    Yet saved cold not bee.
+
+  And the Lord Maxwell in like case
+    Did with Erle Douglas dye:
+  Of twenty hundred Scottish speres,
+    Scarce fifty-five did flye.
+
+  Of fifteen hundred Englishmen,
+    Went home but fifty-three;
+  The rest were slaine in Chevy-Chace,
+    Under the greene woode tree.
+
+  Next day did many widowes come,
+    Their husbands to bewayle;
+  They washt their wounds in brinish teares,
+    But all wold not prevayle.
+
+  Theyr bodyes, bathed in purple gore,
+    They bare with them away:
+  They kist them dead a thousand times,
+    Ere they were cladd in clay.
+
+  The news was brought to Eddenborrow,
+    Where Scottlands king did raigne,
+  That brave Erle Douglas suddenlye
+    Was with an arrow slaine:
+
+  O heavy newes, King James did say,
+    Scotland may witnesse bee,
+  I have not any captaine more
+    Of such account as hee.
+
+  Like tydings to King Henry came,
+    Within as short a space,
+  That Percy of Northumberland
+    Was slaine in Chevy-Chace:
+
+  Now God be with him, said our king,
+    Sith it will noe better bee;
+  I trust I have, within my realme,
+    Five hundred as good as hee:
+
+  Yett shall not Scotts nor Scotland say,
+    But I will vengeance take:
+  I'll be revenged on them all,
+    For brave Erle Percyes sake.
+
+  This vow full well the king perform'd
+    After, at Humbledowne;
+  In one day, fifty knights were slayne,
+    With lords of great renowne:
+
+  And of the rest, of small acount,
+    Did many thousands dye:
+  Thus endeth the hunting of Chevy-Chase,
+    Made by the Erle Percy.
+
+  God save our king, and bless this land
+    With plenty, joy, and peace;
+  And grant henceforth, that foule debate
+    'Twixt noblemen may cease.
+
+[Illustration: Chevy Chace tailpiece]
+
+
+
+SIR LANCELOT DU LAKE
+
+[Illustration: Sir Lancelot Du Lake headpiece]
+
+
+  When Arthur first in court began,
+    And was approved king,
+   By force of armes great victorys wanne,
+  And conquest home did bring,
+
+  Then into England straight he came
+    With fifty good and able
+  Knights, that resorted unto him,
+    And were of his round table:
+
+  And he had justs and turnaments,
+    Whereto were many prest,
+  Wherein some knights did far excell
+    And eke surmount the rest.
+
+  But one Sir Lancelot du Lake,
+    Who was approved well,
+  He for his deeds and feats of armes
+    All others did excell.
+
+  When he had rested him a while,
+    In play, and game, and sportt,
+  He said he wold goe prove himselfe
+    In some adventurous sort.
+
+  He armed rode in a forrest wide,
+    And met a damsell faire,
+  Who told him of adventures great,
+    Whereto he gave great eare.
+
+  Such wold I find, quoth Lancelott:
+    For that cause came I hither.
+  Thou seemest, quoth shee, a knight full good,
+    And I will bring thee thither.
+
+  Wheras a mighty knight doth dwell,
+    That now is of great fame:
+  Therefore tell me what wight thou art,
+    And what may be thy name.
+
+  "My name is Lancelot du Lake."
+    Quoth she, it likes me than:
+  Here dwelles a knight who never was
+    Yet matcht with any man:
+
+  Who has in prison threescore knights
+    And four, that he did wound;
+  Knights of King Arthurs court they be,
+    And of his table round.
+
+  She brought him to a river side,
+    And also to a tree,
+  Whereon a copper bason hung,
+    And many shields to see.
+
+  He struck soe hard, the bason broke;
+    And Tarquin soon he spyed:
+  Who drove a horse before him fast,
+    Whereon a knight lay tyed.
+
+  Sir knight, then sayd Sir Lancelett,
+    Bring me that horse-load hither,
+  And lay him downe, and let him rest;
+    Weel try our force together:
+
+  For, as I understand, thou hast,
+    So far as thou art able,
+  Done great despite and shame unto
+    The knights of the Round Table.
+
+  If thou be of the Table Round,
+    Quoth Tarquin speedilye,
+  Both thee and all thy fellowship
+    I utterly defye.
+
+  That's over much, quoth Lancelott tho,
+    Defend thee by and by.
+  They sett their speares unto their steeds,
+    And eache att other flie.
+
+  They coucht theire speares (their horses ran,
+    As though there had beene thunder),
+  And strucke them each immidst their shields,
+    Wherewith they broke in sunder.
+
+  Their horsses backes brake under them,
+    The knights were both astound:
+  To avoyd their horsses they made haste
+    And light upon the ground.
+
+  They tooke them to their shields full fast,
+    Their swords they drewe out than,
+  With mighty strokes most eagerlye
+    Each at the other ran.
+
+  They wounded were, and bled full sore,
+    They both for breath did stand,
+  And leaning on their swords awhile,
+    Quoth Tarquine, Hold thy hand,
+
+  And tell to me what I shall aske.
+    Say on, quoth Lancelot tho.
+  Thou art, quoth Tarquine, the best knight
+    That ever I did know:
+
+  And like a knight, that I did hate:
+    Soe that thou be not hee,
+  I will deliver all the rest,
+    And eke accord with thee.
+
+  That is well said, quoth Lancelott;
+    But sith it must be soe,
+  What knight is that thou hatest thus
+    I pray thee to me show.
+
+  His name is Lancelot du Lake,
+    He slew my brother deere;
+  Him I suspect of all the rest:
+    I would I had him here.
+
+  Thy wish thou hast, but yet unknowne,
+    I am Lancelot du Lake,
+  Now knight of Arthurs Table Round;
+    King Hauds son of Schuwake;
+
+  And I desire thee to do thy worst.
+    Ho, ho, quoth Tarquin tho'
+  One of us two shall ende our lives
+    Before that we do go.
+
+  If thou be Lancelot du Lake,
+    Then welcome shalt thou bee:
+  Wherfore see thou thyself defend,
+    For now defye I thee.
+
+  They buckled them together so,
+    Like unto wild boares rashing;
+  And with their swords and shields they ran
+    At one another slashing:
+
+  The ground besprinkled was with blood:
+    Tarquin began to yield;
+  For he gave backe for wearinesse,
+    And lowe did beare his shield.
+
+  This soone Sir Lancelot espyde,
+    He leapt upon him then,
+  He pull'd him downe upon his knee,
+    And rushing off his helm,
+
+  Forthwith he strucke his necke in two,
+    And, when he had soe done,
+  From prison threescore knights and four
+    Delivered everye one.
+
+
+
+
+GIL MORRICE
+
+[Illustration: Gil Morrice headpiece]
+
+
+[Illustration: Gil Morrice]
+
+  Gil Morrice was an erles son,
+     His name it waxed wide;
+    It was nae for his great riches,
+  Nor zet his mickle pride;
+  Bot it was for a lady gay,
+    That livd on Carron side.
+
+  Quhair sail 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 sail 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 sall 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.
+
+  Gae bid hir take this gay mantel,
+    'Tis a' gowd hot 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 sail 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 he came to grass growing,
+    Set down his feet and ran.
+
+  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.
+
+  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.
+
+  And there it is, a silken sarke,
+    Your ain hand sewd the sleive;
+  Ze maun gae speik to Gill Morice:
+    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 Morice,
+    It's deir welcum to mee.
+
+  Ze leid, ze leid, ze filthy nurse,
+    Sae loud I heird zee 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 'mazer' 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.
+
+  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 Minerva's 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.
+
+  The baron came to the grene wode,
+    Wi' mickle dule and care,
+  And there he first spied Gill Morice
+    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 despair.
+
+  Nae wonder, nae wonder, Gill Morìce,
+    My lady loed thee weel,
+  The fairest part of my bodie
+    Is blacker than thy heel.
+  Zet neir the less now, Gill Morìce,
+    For a' thy great beautiè,
+  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's 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.
+
+  Far better I loe that bluidy head,
+    Both 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.
+
+  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;
+  But 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.
+
+  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.
+
+  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 been 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 winsome 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 mine ain;
+  I'll neir forget the dreiry day
+    On which the zouth was slain.
+
+
+[Illustration: Gil Morrice tailpiece]
+
+
+
+
+THE CHILD of ELLE
+
+[Illustration: The Child of Elle headpiece]
+
+
+  On yondre hill a castle standes
+    With walles and towres bedight,
+   And yonder lives the Child of Elle,
+  A younge and comely knighte.
+
+  The Child of Elle to his garden went,
+    And stood at his garden pale,
+  Whan, lo! he beheld fair Emmelines page
+    Come trippinge downe the dale.
+
+  The Child of Elle he hyed him thence,
+    Y-wis he stoode not stille,
+  And soone he mette faire Emmelines page
+    Come climbinge up the hille.
+
+  Nowe Christe thee save, thou little foot-page,
+    Now Christe thee save and see!
+  Oh telle me how does thy ladye gaye,
+    And what may thy tydinges bee?
+
+  My ladye shee is all woe-begone,
+    And the teares they falle from her eyne;
+  And aye she laments the deadlye feude
+    Betweene her house and thine.
+
+  And here shee sends thee a silken scarfe
+    Bedewde with many a teare,
+  And biddes thee sometimes thinke on her,
+    Who loved thee so deare.
+
+  And here shee sends thee a ring of golde
+    The last boone thou mayst have,
+  And biddes thee weare it for her sake,
+    Whan she is layde in grave.
+
+  For, ah! her gentle heart is broke,
+    And in grave soone must shee bee,
+  Sith her father hath chose her a new new love,
+    And forbidde her to think of thee.
+
+  Her father hath brought her a carlish knight,
+    Sir John of the north countràye,
+  And within three dayes she must him wedde,
+    Or he vowes he will her slaye.
+
+  Nowe hye thee backe, thou little foot-page,
+    And greet thy ladye from mee,
+  And telle her that I her owne true love
+    Will dye, or sette her free.
+
+  Nowe hye thee backe, thou little foot-page,
+    And let thy fair ladye know
+  This night will I bee at her bowre-windòwe,
+    Betide me weale or woe.
+
+  The boye he tripped, the boye he ranne,
+    He neither stint ne stayd
+  Untill he came to fair Emmelines bowre,
+    Whan kneeling downe he sayd,
+
+  O ladye, I've been with thine own true love,
+    And he greets thee well by mee;
+  This night will hee bee at thy bowre-windòwe,
+    And dye or sett thee free.
+
+  Nowe daye was gone, and night was come,
+    And all were fast asleepe,
+  All save the Ladye Emmeline,
+    Who sate in her bowre to weepe:
+
+  And soone shee heard her true loves voice
+    Lowe whispering at the walle,
+  Awake, awake, my deare ladyè,
+    Tis I thy true love call.
+
+  Awake, awake, my ladye deare,
+    Come, mount this faire palfràye:
+  This ladder of ropes will lette thee downe
+    He carrye thee hence awaye.
+
+  Nowe nay, nowe nay, thou gentle knight,
+    Nowe nay, this may not bee;
+  For aye shold I tint my maiden fame,
+    If alone I should wend with thee.
+
+  O ladye, thou with a knighte so true
+    Mayst safelye wend alone,
+  To my ladye mother I will thee bringe,
+    Where marriage shall make us one.
+
+  "My father he is a baron bolde,
+    Of lynage proude and hye;
+  And what would he saye if his daughtèr
+    Awaye with a knight should fly
+
+  "Ah! well I wot, he never would rest,
+    Nor his meate should doe him no goode,
+  Until he hath slayne thee, Child of Elle,
+    And scene thy deare hearts bloode."
+
+  O ladye, wert thou in thy saddle sette,
+    And a little space him fro,
+  I would not care for thy cruel fathèr,
+    Nor the worst that he could doe.
+
+  O ladye, wert thou in thy saddle sette,
+    And once without this walle,
+  I would not care for thy cruel fathèr
+    Nor the worst that might befalle.
+
+  Faire Emmeline sighed, fair Emmeline wept,
+    And aye her heart was woe:
+  At length he seized her lilly-white hand,
+    And downe the ladder he drewe:
+
+  And thrice he clasped her to his breste,
+    And kist her tenderlìe:
+  The teares that fell from her fair eyes
+    Ranne like the fountayne free.
+
+  Hee mounted himselfe on his steede so talle,
+    And her on a fair palfràye,
+  And slung his bugle about his necke,
+    And roundlye they rode awaye.
+
+  All this beheard her owne damsèlle,
+    In her bed whereas shee ley,
+  Quoth shee, My lord shall knowe of this,
+    Soe I shall have golde and fee.
+
+  Awake, awake, thou baron bolde!
+    Awake, my noble dame!
+  Your daughter is fledde with the Child of Elle
+    To doe the deede of shame.
+
+  The baron he woke, the baron he rose,
+    And called his merrye men all:
+  "And come thou forth, Sir John the knighte,
+    Thy ladye is carried to thrall."
+
+  Faire Emmeline scant had ridden a mile,
+    A mile forth of the towne,
+  When she was aware of her fathers men
+    Come galloping over the downe:
+
+  And foremost came the carlish knight,
+    Sir John of the north countràye:
+  "Nowe stop, nowe stop, thou false traitòure,
+    Nor carry that ladye awaye.
+
+  "For she is come of hye lineàge,
+    And was of a ladye borne,
+  And ill it beseems thee, a false churl's sonne,
+    To carrye her hence to scorne."
+
+  Nowe loud thou lyest, Sir John the knight,
+    Nowe thou doest lye of mee;
+  A knight mee gott, and a ladye me bore,
+    Soe never did none by thee
+
+  But light nowe downe, my ladye faire,
+    Light downe, and hold my steed,
+  While I and this discourteous knighte
+    Doe trye this arduous deede.
+
+  But light now downe, my deare ladyè,
+    Light downe, and hold my horse;
+  While I and this discourteous knight
+    Doe trye our valour's force.
+
+  Fair Emmeline sighed, fair Emmeline wept,
+    And aye her heart was woe,
+  While twixt her love and the carlish knight
+    Past many a baleful blowe.
+
+  The Child of Elle hee fought so well,
+    As his weapon he waved amaine,
+  That soone he had slaine the carlish knight,
+    And layd him upon the plaine.
+
+  And nowe the baron and all his men
+    Full fast approached nye:
+  Ah! what may ladye Emmeline doe
+    Twere nowe no boote to flye.
+
+  Her lover he put his horne to his mouth,
+    And blew both loud and shrill,
+  And soone he saw his owne merry men
+    Come ryding over the hill.
+
+  "Nowe hold thy hand, thou bold baròn,
+    I pray thee hold thy hand,
+  Nor ruthless rend two gentle hearts
+    Fast knit in true love's band.
+
+  Thy daughter I have dearly loved
+    Full long and many a day;
+  But with such love as holy kirke
+    Hath freelye sayd wee may.
+
+  O give consent, shee may be mine,
+    And blesse a faithfull paire:
+  My lands and livings are not small,
+    My house and lineage faire:
+
+  My mother she was an earl's daughtèr,
+    And a noble knyght my sire--
+  The baron he frowned, and turn'd away
+    With mickle dole and ire.
+
+  Fair Emmeline sighed, faire Emmeline wept,
+    And did all tremblinge stand:
+  At lengthe she sprang upon her knee,
+    And held his lifted hand.
+
+  Pardon, my lorde and father deare,
+    This faire yong knyght and mee:
+  Trust me, but for the carlish knyght,
+    I never had fled from thee.
+
+  Oft have you called your Emmeline
+    Your darling and your joye;
+  O let not then your harsh resolves
+    Your Emmeline destroye.
+
+  The baron he stroakt his dark-brown cheeke,
+    And turned his heade asyde
+  To whipe awaye the starting teare
+    He proudly strave to hyde.
+
+  In deepe revolving thought he stoode,
+    And mused a little space;
+  Then raised faire Emmeline from the grounde,
+    With many a fond embrace.
+
+  Here take her, Child of Elle, he sayd,
+    And gave her lillye white hand;
+  Here take my deare and only child,
+    And with her half my land:
+
+  Thy father once mine honour wrongde
+    In dayes of youthful pride;
+  Do thou the injurye repayre
+    In fondnesse for thy bride.
+
+  And as thou love her, and hold her deare,
+    Heaven prosper thee and thine:
+  And nowe my blessing wend wi' thee,
+    My lovelye Emmeline.
+
+[Illustration: The Child of Elle tailpiece]
+
+
+
+
+CHILD WATERS
+
+[Illustration: The Child Waters headpiece]
+
+
+[Illustration: The Child Waters]
+
+
+  Childe Waters in his stable stoode
+    And stroakt his milke white steede:
+  To him a fayre yonge ladye came
+    As ever ware womans weede.
+
+  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.
+
+  And all is with one chyld of yours,
+    I feel sturre att my side:
+  My gowne of greene it is too straighte;
+    Before, it was too wide.
+
+  If the child 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.
+
+  If the childe be mine, fair Ellen, he sayd,
+    Be mine, as you doe sweare;
+  Then take you Cheshire and Lancashire both,
+    And make that child your heyre.
+
+  Shee saies, I had rather have one kisse,
+    Child Waters, of thy mouth;
+  Than I wolde have Cheshire and Lancashire both,
+    That laye by north and south.
+
+  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.
+
+  To morrow, Ellen, I must forth ryde
+    Farr into the north countrie;
+  The fairest lady that I can find,
+    Ellen, must goe with mee.
+
+  'Thoughe I am not that lady fayre,
+    'Yet let me go with thee:'
+  And ever I pray you, Child Watèrs,
+    Your foot-page let me bee.
+
+  If you will my foot-page be, Ellen,
+    As you doe tell to mee;
+  Then you must cut your gowne of greene,
+    An inch above your knee:
+
+  Soe must you doe your yellow lockes,
+    An inch above your ee:
+  You must tell no man what is my name;
+    My foot-page then you shall bee.
+
+  Shee, all the long day Child Waters rode,
+    Ran barefoote by his side;
+  Yett was he never soe courteous a knighte,
+    To say, Ellen, will you ryde?
+
+  Shee, all the long day Child Waters rode,
+    Ran barefoote thorow the broome;
+  Yett hee was never soe curteous a knighte,
+    To say, put on your shoone.
+
+  Ride softlye, shee sayd, O Childe Waters,
+    Why doe you ryde soe fast?
+  The childe, which is no mans but thine,
+    My bodye itt will brast.
+
+  Hee sayth, seeth thou yonder water, Ellen,
+    That flows from bank to brimme?--
+  I trust to God, O Child Waters,
+    You never will see mee swimme.
+
+  But when shee came to the waters side,
+    Shee sayled to the chinne:
+  Except the Lord of heaven be my speed,
+    Now must I learne to swimme.
+
+  The salt waters bare up her clothes;
+    Our Ladye bare upp her chinne:
+  Childe Waters was a woe man, good Lord,
+    To see faire Ellen swimme.
+
+  And when shee over the water was,
+    Shee then came to his knee:
+  He said, Come hither, thou fair Ellèn,
+    Loe yonder what I see.
+
+  Seest thou not yonder hall, Ellen?
+    Of redd gold shines the yate;
+  Of twenty foure faire ladyes there,
+    The fairest is my mate.
+
+  Seest thou not yonder hall, Ellen?
+    Of redd gold shines the towre:
+  There are twenty four fair ladyes there,
+    The fairest is my paramoure.
+
+  I see the hall now, Child Waters,
+    Of redd golde shines the yate:
+  God give you good now of yourselfe,
+    And of your worthye mate.
+
+  I see the hall now, Child Waters,
+    Of redd gold shines the towre:
+  God give you good now of yourselfe,
+    And of your paramoure.
+
+  There twenty four fayre ladyes were
+    A playing att the ball:
+  And Ellen the fairest 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 gresse.
+
+  And then bespake Childe Waters sister,
+    These were the wordes said shee:
+  You have the prettyest foot-page, brother,
+    That ever I saw with mine ee.
+
+  But that his bellye it is soe bigg,
+    His girdle goes wonderous hie:
+  And let him, I pray you, Childe Watères,
+    Goe into the chamber with mee.
+
+  It is not fit for a little foot-page,
+    That has run throughe mosse and myre,
+  To go into the chamber with any ladye,
+    That weares soe riche attyre.
+
+  It is more meete for a litle foot-page,
+    That has run throughe mosse and myre,
+  To take his supper upon his knee,
+    And sitt downe by the kitchen fyer.
+
+  But 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.
+
+  Goe thee downe into yonder towne,
+    And low into the street;
+  The fayrest ladye that thou can finde,
+
+    Hyer her in mine armes to sleepe,
+  And take her up in thine armes twaine,
+    For filinge of her feete.
+
+  Ellen is gone into the towne,
+    And low into the streete:
+  The fairest ladye that she cold find,
+    Shee hyred in his armes to sleepe;
+  And tooke her up in her armes twayne,
+    For filing of her feete.
+
+  I pray you nowe, good Child Watèrs,
+    Let mee lye at your bedds 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,
+
+  Hee sayd, Rise up, my litle foot-page,
+    Give my steede corne and haye;
+  And soe doe thou the good black oats,
+    To carry mee better awaye.
+
+  Up then rose the faire Ellèn,
+    And gave his steede corne and hay:
+  And soe shee did the good blacke oats,
+    To carry him the better away.
+
+  Shee leaned her backe to the manger side,
+    And grievouslye did groane:
+  Shee leaned her backe to the manger side,
+    And there shee made her moane.
+
+  And that beheard his mother deere,
+    Shee heard her there monand.
+  Shee sayd, Rise up, thou Childe Watèrs,
+    I think thee a cursed man.
+
+  For in thy stable is a ghost,
+    That grievouslye doth grone:
+  Or else some woman laboures of childe,
+    She is soe woe-begone.
+
+  Up then rose Childe Waters soon,
+    And did on his shirte of silke;
+  And then he put on his other clothes,
+    On his body as white as milke.
+
+  And when he came to the stable dore,
+    Full still there he did stand,
+  That hee mighte heare his fayre Ellèn
+    Howe shee made her monànd.
+
+  Shee sayd, Lullabye, mine owne deere child,
+    Lullabye, dere child, dere;
+  I wold thy father were a king,
+    Thy mother layd on a biere.
+
+  Peace now, he said, good faire Ellèn,
+    Be of good cheere, I praye;
+  And the bridal and the churching both
+    Shall bee upon one day.
+
+
+
+KING EDWARD IV & THE TANNER OF TAMWORTH
+
+[Illustration: King Edward IV headpiece]
+
+
+  In summer time, when leaves grow greene,
+     And blossoms bedecke the tree,
+  King Edward wolde a hunting ryde,
+    Some pastime for to see.
+
+  With hawke and hounde he made him bowne,
+    With horne, and eke with bowe;
+  To Drayton Basset he tooke his waye,
+    With all his lordes a rowe.
+
+  And he had ridden ore dale and downe
+    By eight of clocke in the day,
+  When he was ware of a bold tannèr,
+    Come ryding along the waye.
+
+  A fayre russet coat the tanner had on
+    Fast buttoned under his chin,
+  And under him a good cow-hide,
+    And a marc of four shilling.
+
+  Nowe stand you still, my good lordes all,
+    Under the grene wood spraye;
+  And I will wend to yonder fellowe,
+    To weet what he will saye.
+
+  God speede, God speede thee, said our king.
+    Thou art welcome, Sir, sayd hee.
+  "The readyest waye to Drayton Basset
+    I praye thee to shew to mee."
+
+  "To Drayton Basset woldst thou goe,
+    Fro the place where thou dost stand?
+  The next payre of gallowes thou comest unto,
+    Turne in upon thy right hand."
+
+  That is an unreadye waye, sayd our king,
+    Thou doest but jest, I see;
+  Nowe shewe me out the nearest waye,
+    And I pray thee wend with mee.
+
+  Away with a vengeance! quoth the tanner:
+    I hold thee out of thy witt:
+  All daye have I rydden on Brocke my mare,
+    And I am fasting yett.
+
+  "Go with me downe to Drayton Basset,
+    No daynties we will spare;
+  All daye shalt thou eate and drinke of the best,
+    And I will paye thy fare."
+
+  Gramercye for nothing, the tanner replyde,
+    Thou payest no fare of mine:
+  I trowe I've more nobles in my purse,
+    Than thou hast pence in thine.
+
+  God give thee joy of them, sayd the king,
+    And send them well to priefe.
+  The tanner wolde faine have beene away,
+    For he weende he had beene a thiefe.
+
+  What art thou, hee sayde, thou fine fellowe,
+    Of thee I am in great feare,
+  For the clothes, thou wearest upon thy back,
+    Might beseeme a lord to weare.
+
+  I never stole them, quoth our king,
+    I tell you, Sir, by the roode.
+  "Then thou playest, as many an unthrift doth,
+    And standest in midds of thy goode."
+
+  What tydinges heare you, sayd the kynge,
+    As you ryde farre and neare?
+  "I heare no tydinges, Sir, by the masse,
+    But that cowe-hides are deare."
+
+  "Cow-hides! cow-hides! what things are those?
+     I marvell what they bee?"
+  What, art thou a foole? the tanner reply'd;
+    I carry one under mee.
+
+  What craftsman art thou, said the king,
+    I pray thee tell me trowe.
+  "I am a barker, Sir, by my trade;
+    Nowe tell me what art thou?"
+
+  I am a poor courtier, Sir, quoth he,
+    That am forth of service worne;
+  And faine I wolde thy prentise bee,
+    Thy cunninge for to learne.
+
+  Marrye heaven forfend, the tanner replyde,
+    That thou my prentise were:
+  Thou woldst spend more good than I shold winne
+    By fortye shilling a yere.
+
+  Yet one thinge wolde I, sayd our king,
+    If thou wilt not seeme strange:
+  Thoughe my horse be better than thy mare,
+    Yet with thee I fain wold change.
+
+  "Why if with me thou faine wilt change,
+    As change full well maye wee,
+  By the faith of my bodye, thou proude fellowe
+    I will have some boot of thee."
+
+  That were against reason, sayd the king,
+    I sweare, so mote I thee:
+  My horse is better than thy mare,
+    And that thou well mayst see.
+
+  "Yea, Sir, but Brocke is gentle and mild,
+    And softly she will fare:
+  Thy horse is unrulye and wild, I wiss;
+    Aye skipping here and theare."
+
+  What boote wilt thou have? our king reply'd;
+    Now tell me in this stound.
+  "Noe pence, nor halfpence, by my faye,
+    But a noble in gold so round.
+
+  "Here's twentye groates of white moneye,
+    Sith thou will have it of mee."
+  I would have sworne now, quoth the tanner,
+    Thou hadst not had one pennie.
+
+  But since we two have made a change,
+    A change we must abide,
+  Although thou hast gotten Brocke my mare,
+    Thou gettest not my cowe-hide.
+
+  I will not have it, sayd the kynge,
+    I sweare, so mought I thee;
+  Thy foule cowe-hide I wolde not beare,
+    If thou woldst give it to mee.
+
+  The tanner hee tooke his good cowe-hide,
+    That of the cow was bilt;
+  And threwe it upon the king's sadelle,
+    That was soe fayrelye gilte.
+  "Now help me up, thou fine fellowe,
+    'Tis time that I were gone:
+  When I come home to Gyllian my wife,
+    Sheel say I am a gentilmon."
+
+  The king he tooke him up by the legge;
+    The tanner a f----- lett fall.
+  Nowe marrye, good fellowe, sayd the king,
+    Thy courtesye is but small.
+
+  When the tanner he was in the kinges sadèlle,
+    And his foote in the stirrup was;
+  He marvelled greatlye in his minde,
+    Whether it were golde or brass.
+
+  But when the steede saw the cows taile wagge,
+    And eke the blacke cowe-horne;
+  He stamped, and stared, and awaye he ranne,
+    As the devill had him borne.
+
+  The tanner he pulld, the tanner he sweat,
+    And held by the pummil fast:
+  At length the tanner came tumbling downe;
+    His necke he had well-nye brast.
+
+  Take thy horse again with a vengeance, he sayd,
+    With mee he shall not byde.
+  "My horse wolde have borne thee well enoughe,
+    But he knewe not of thy cowe-hide.
+
+  Yet if againe thou faine woldst change,
+    As change full well may wee,
+  By the faith of my bodye, thou jolly tannèr,
+    I will have some boote of thee."
+
+  What boote wilt thou have? the tanner replyd,
+    Nowe tell me in this stounde.
+  "Noe pence nor halfpence, Sir, by my faye,
+    But I will have twentye pound."
+
+  "Here's twentye groates out of my purse;
+    And twentye I have of thine:
+  And I have one more, which we will spend
+    Together at the wine."
+
+  The king set a bugle home to his mouthe,
+    And blewe both loude and shrille:
+  And soone came lords, and soone came knights,
+    Fast ryding over the hille.
+
+  Nowe, out alas! the tanner he cryde,
+    That ever I sawe this daye!
+  Thou art a strong thiefe, yon come thy fellowes
+    Will beare my cowe-hide away.
+
+  They are no thieves, the king replyde,
+    I sweare, soe mote I thee:
+  But they are the lords of the north countrèy,
+    Here come to hunt with mee.
+
+  And soone before our king they came,
+    And knelt downe on the grounde:
+  Then might the tanner have beene awaye,
+    He had lever than twentye pounde.
+
+  A coller, a coller, here: sayd the king,
+    A coller he loud gan crye:
+  Then woulde he lever than twentye pound,
+    He had not beene so nighe.
+
+  A coller, a coller, the tanner he sayd,
+    I trowe it will breed sorrowe:
+  After a coller cometh a halter,
+    I trow I shall be hang'd to-morrowe.
+
+  Be not afraid, tanner, said our king;
+    I tell thee, so mought I thee,
+  Lo here I make thee the best esquire
+    That is in the North countrie.
+
+  For Plumpton-parke I will give thee,
+    With tenements faire beside:
+  'Tis worth three hundred markes by the yeare,
+    To maintaine thy good cowe-hide.
+
+  Gramercye, my liege, the tanner replyde,
+    For the favour thou hast me showne;
+  If ever thou comest to merry Tamwòrth,
+    Neates leather shall clout thy shoen.
+
+
+[Illustration: King Edward IV tailpiece]
+
+
+
+
+SIR PATRICK SPENS
+
+[Illustration: Sir Patrick Spens headpiece]
+
+
+  The king sits in Dumferling toune,
+    Drinking the blude-reid wine:
+  O quhar will I get guid sailòr,
+    To sail this schip of mine.
+
+  Up and spak an eldern knicht,
+    Sat at the kings richt kne:
+  Sir Patrick Spens is the best sailòr,
+    That sails upon the se.
+
+  The king has written a braid letter,
+    And signd it wi' his hand;
+  And sent it to Sir Patrick Spens,
+    Was walking on the sand.
+
+  The first line that Sir Patrick red,
+    A loud lauch lauched he:
+  The next line that Sir Patrick red,
+    The teir blinded his ee.
+
+  O quha is this has don this deid,
+    This ill deid don to me;
+  To send me out this time o' the zeir,
+    To sail upon the se.
+
+  Mak hast, mak haste, my mirry men all,
+    Our guid schip sails the morne,
+  O say na sae, my master deir,
+    For I feir a deadlie storme.
+
+  Late late yestreen I saw the new moone
+    Wi' the auld moone in hir arme;
+  And I feir, I feir, my deir master,
+    That we will com to harme.
+
+  O our Scots nobles wer richt laith
+    To weet their cork-heild schoone;
+  Bot lang owre a' the play wer playd,
+    Thair hats they swam aboone.
+
+  O lang, lang, may thair ladies sit
+    Wi' thair fans into their hand,
+  Or eir they se Sir Patrick Spens
+    Cum sailing to the land.
+
+  O lang, lang, may the ladies stand
+    Wi' thair gold kems in their hair,
+  Waiting for thair ain deir lords,
+    For they'll se thame na mair.
+
+  Have owre, have owre to Aberdour,
+    It's fiftie fadom deip:
+  And thair lies guid Sir Patrick Spens,
+    Wi' the Scots lords at his feit.
+
+[Illustration: Sir Patrick Spens tailpiece]
+
+
+
+THE EARL OF MAR'S DAUGHTER
+
+
+[Illustration: The Earl of Mar's Daughter headpiece]
+
+
+[Illustration: The Earl of Mar's Daughter]
+
+
+  It was intill a pleasant time,
+    Upon a simmer's day,
+  The noble Earl of Mar's daughter
+  Went forth to sport and play.
+
+  As thus she did amuse hersell,
+    Below a green aik tree,
+  There she saw a sprightly doo
+    Set on a tower sae hie.
+
+  "O cow-me-doo, my love sae true,
+    If ye'll come down to me,
+  Ye 'se hae a cage o guid red gowd
+    Instead o simple tree:
+
+  "I'll put growd hingers roun your cage,
+    And siller roun your wa;
+  I'll gar ye shine as fair a bird
+    As ony o them a'."
+
+  But she hadnae these words well spoke,
+    Nor yet these words well said,
+  Till Cow-me-doo flew frae the tower
+    And lighted on her head.
+
+  Then she has brought this pretty bird
+    Hame to her bowers and ba,
+  And made him shine as fair a bird
+    As ony o them a'.
+
+  When day was gane, and night was come,
+    About the evening tide,
+  This lady spied a sprightly youth
+    Stand straight up by her side.
+
+  "From whence came ye, young man?" she said;
+    "That does surprise me sair;
+  My door was bolted right secure,
+    What way hae ye come here?"
+
+  "O had your tongue, ye lady fair,
+    Lat a' your folly be;
+  Mind ye not on your turtle-doo
+    Last day ye brought wi thee?"
+
+  "O tell me mair, young man," she said,
+    "This does surprise me now;
+  What country hae ye come frae?
+    What pedigree are you?"
+
+  "My mither lives on foreign isles,
+    She has nae mair but me;
+  She is a queen o wealth and state,
+    And birth and high degree.
+
+  "Likewise well skilld in magic spells,
+    As ye may plainly see,
+  And she transformd me to yon shape,
+    To charm such maids as thee.
+
+  "I am a doo the live-lang day,
+    A sprightly youth at night;
+  This aye gars me appear mair fair
+    In a fair maiden's sight.
+
+  "And it was but this verra day
+    That I came ower the sea;
+  Your lovely face did me enchant;
+    I'll live and dee wi thee."
+
+  "O Cow-me-doo, my luve sae true,
+    Nae mair frae me ye 'se gae;
+  That's never my intent, my luve,
+    As ye said, it shall be sae."
+
+  "O Cow-me-doo, my luve sae true,
+    It's time to gae to bed;"
+  "Wi a' my heart, my dear marrow,
+    It's be as ye hae said."
+
+  Then he has staid in bower wi her
+    For sax lang years and ane,
+  Till sax young sons to him she bare,
+    And the seventh she's brought hame.
+
+  But aye as ever a child was born
+    He carried them away,
+  And brought them to his mither's care,
+    As fast as he coud fly.
+
+  Thus he has staid in bower wi her
+    For twenty years and three;
+  There came a lord o high renown
+    To court this fair ladie.
+
+  But still his proffer she refused,
+    And a' his presents too;
+  Says, I'm content to live alane
+    Wi my bird, Cow-me-doo.
+
+  Her father sware a solemn oath
+    Amang the nobles all,
+  "The morn, or ere I eat or drink,
+    This bird I will gar kill."
+
+  The bird was sitting in his cage,
+    And heard what they did say;
+  And when he found they were dismist,
+    Says, Wae's me for this day!
+
+  "Before that I do langer stay,
+    And thus to be forlorn,
+  I'll gang unto my mither's bower,
+    Where I was bred and born."
+
+  Then Cow-me-doo took flight and flew
+    Beyond the raging sea,
+  And lighted near his mither's castle,
+    On a tower o gowd sae hie.
+
+  As his mither was wauking out,
+    To see what she coud see,
+  And there she saw her little son,
+    Set on the tower sae hie.
+
+  "Get dancers here to dance," she said,
+    "And minstrells for to play;
+  For here's my young son, Florentine,
+    Come here wi me to stay."
+
+  "Get nae dancers to dance, mither,
+    Nor minstrells for to play,
+  For the mither o my seven sons,
+    The morn's her wedding-day."
+
+  "O tell me, tell me, Florentine,
+    Tell me, and tell me true,
+  Tell me this day without a flaw,
+    What I will do for you."
+
+  "Instead of dancers to dance, mither,
+    Or minstrells for to play,
+  Turn four-and-twenty wall-wight men
+    Like storks in feathers gray;
+
+  "My seven sons in seven swans,
+    Aboon their heads to flee;
+  And I mysell a gay gos-hawk,
+    A bird o high degree."
+
+  Then sichin said the queen hersell,
+    "That thing's too high for me;"
+  But she applied to an auld woman,
+    Who had mair skill than she.
+
+  Instead o dancers to dance a dance,
+    Or minstrells for to play,
+  Four-and-twenty wall-wight men
+    Turnd birds o feathers gray;
+
+  Her seven sons in seven swans,
+    Aboon their heads to flee;
+  And he himsell a gay gos-hawk,
+    A bird o high degree.
+
+  This flock o birds took flight and flew
+    Beyond the raging sea,
+  And landed near the Earl Mar's castle,
+    Took shelter in every tree.
+
+  They were a flock o pretty birds,
+    Right comely to be seen;
+  The people viewed them wi surprise,
+    As they dancd on the green.
+
+  These birds ascended frae the tree
+    And lighted on the ha,
+  And at the last wi force did flee
+    Amang the nobles a'.
+
+  The storks there seized some o the men,
+    They coud neither fight nor flee;
+  The swans they bound the bride's best man
+    Below a green aik tree.
+
+  They lighted next on maidens fair,
+    Then on the bride's own head,
+  And wi the twinkling o an ee
+    The bride and them were fled.
+
+  There's ancient men at weddings been
+    For sixty years or more,
+  But sic a curious wedding-day
+    They never saw before.
+
+  For naething coud the companie do.
+    Nor naething coud they say
+  But they saw a flock o pretty birds
+    That took their bride away.
+
+  When that Earl Mar he came to know
+    Where his dochter did stay,
+  He signd a bond o unity,
+    And visits now they pay.
+
+[Illustration: The Earl of Mar's Daughter tailpiece]
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of A Book of Ballads, Volume 3, by Various
+
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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of A Book of Ballads, Volume 3, by Various
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: A Book of Ballads, Volume 3
+
+Author: Various
+
+Editor: Beverly Nichols
+
+Posting Date: April 29, 2014 [EBook #7533]
+Release Date: February, 2005
+First Posted: May 15, 2003
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A BOOK OF BALLADS, VOLUME 3 ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by David Widger, Juliet Sutherland, Phil McLaury,
+Charles Franks and the Online Distributed Proofreading
+Team. Text version by Al Haines.
+
+
+
+
+
+`
+
+
+
+
+A BOOK OF OLD BALLADS
+
+Selected and with an Introduction
+
+by
+
+BEVERLEY NICHOLS
+
+
+[Illustration: Title page art]
+
+
+
+
+
+  CONTENTS
+
+  CLERK COLVILL
+  SIR ALDINGAR
+  EDOM O' GORDON
+  CHEVY CHACE
+  SIR LANCELOT DU LAKE
+  GIL MORRICE
+  THE CHILD OF ELLE
+  CHILD WATERS
+  KING EDWARD IV AND THE TANNER OF TAMWORTH
+  SIR PATRICK SPENS
+  THE EARL OF MAR'S DAUGHTER
+
+
+
+  LIST OF COLOUR PLATES
+
+  CLERK COLVILL
+  GIL MORRICE
+  CHILD WATERS
+  THE EARL OF MAR'S DAUGHTER
+
+
+
+
+CLERK COLVILL
+
+[Illustration: Clerk Colvill headpiece]
+
+
+[Illustration: Clerk Colvill]
+
+
+  Clerk Colvill and his lusty dame
+    Were walking in the garden green;
+  The belt around her stately waist
+    Cost Clerk Colvill of pounds fifteen.
+
+  "O promise me now, Clerk Colvill,
+    Or it will cost ye muckle strife,
+  Ride never by the wells of Slane,
+    If ye wad live and brook your life."
+
+  "Now speak nae mair, my lusty dame,
+    Now speak nae mair of that to me;
+  Did I neer see a fair woman,
+    But I wad sin with her body?"
+
+  He's taen leave o his gay lady,
+    Nought minding what his lady said,
+  And he's rode by the wells of Slane,
+    Where washing was a bonny maid.
+
+  "Wash on, wash on, my bonny maid,
+    That wash sae clean your sark of silk;"
+  "And weel fa you, fair gentleman,
+    Your body whiter than the milk."
+
+      *       *       *       *       *
+
+  Then loud, loud cry'd the Clerk Colvill,
+    "O my head it pains me sair;"
+  "Then take, then take," the maiden said,
+    "And frae my sark you'll cut a gare."
+
+  Then she's gied him a little bane-knife,
+    And frae her sark he cut a share;
+  She's ty'd it round his whey-white face,
+    But ay his head it aked mair.
+
+  Then louder cry'd the Clerk Colville,
+    "O sairer, sairer akes my head;"
+  "And sairer, sairer ever will,"
+    The maiden crys, "till you be dead."
+
+  Out then he drew his shining blade,
+    Thinking to stick her where she stood,
+  But she was vanished to a fish,
+    And swam far off, a fair mermaid.
+
+  "O mother, mother, braid my hair;
+    My lusty lady, make my bed;
+  O brother, take my sword and spear,
+    For I have seen the false mermaid."
+
+
+
+
+SIR ALDINGAR
+
+[Illustration: Sir Aldingar headpiece]
+
+
+  Our king he kept a false stewarde,
+    Sir Aldingar they him call;
+  A falser steward than he was one,
+    Servde not in bower nor hall.
+
+  He wolde have layne by our comelye queene,
+    Her deere worshippe to betraye:
+  Our queene she was a good woman,
+    And evermore said him naye.
+
+  Sir Aldingar was wrothe in his mind,
+    With her hee was never content,
+  Till traiterous meanes he colde devyse,
+    In a fyer to have her brent.
+
+  There came a lazar to the kings gate,
+    A lazar both blinde and lame:
+  He tooke the lazar upon his backe,
+    Him on the queenes bed has layne.
+
+  "Lye still, lazar, whereas thou lyest,
+    Looke thou goe not hence away;
+  He make thee a whole man and a sound
+    In two howers of the day."
+
+  Then went him forth Sir Aldingar,
+    And hyed him to our king:
+  "If I might have grace, as I have space,
+    Sad tydings I could bring."
+
+  Say on, say on, Sir Aldingar,
+    Saye on the soothe to mee.
+  "Our queene hath chosen a new new love,
+    And shee will have none of thee.
+
+  "If shee had chosen a right good knight,
+    The lesse had beene her shame;
+  But she hath chose her a lazar man,
+    A lazar both blinde and lame."
+
+  If this be true, thou Aldingar,
+    The tyding thou tellest to me,
+  Then will I make thee a rich rich knight,
+    Rich both of golde and fee.
+
+  But if it be false, Sir Aldingar,
+    As God nowe grant it bee!
+  Thy body, I sweare by the holye rood,
+    Shall hang on the gallows tree.
+
+  He brought our king to the queenes chamber,
+    And opend to him the dore.
+  A lodlye love, King Harry says,
+    For our queene dame Elinore!
+
+  If thou were a man, as thou art none,
+    Here on my sword thoust dye;
+  But a payre of new gallowes shall be built,
+    And there shalt thou hang on hye.
+
+  Forth then hyed our king, I wysse,
+    And an angry man was hee;
+  And soone he found Queen Elinore,
+    That bride so bright of blee.
+
+  Now God you save, our queene, madame,
+    And Christ you save and see;
+  Heere you have chosen a newe newe love,
+    And you will have none of mee.
+
+  If you had chosen a right good knight,
+    The lesse had been your shame;
+  But you have chose you a lazar man,
+    A lazar both blinde and lame.
+
+  Therfore a fyer there shalt be built,
+    And brent all shalt thou bee.--
+  Now out alacke! said our comly queene,
+    Sir Aldingar's false to mee.
+
+  Now out alacke! sayd our comlye queene,
+    My heart with griefe will brast.
+  I had thought swevens had never been true;
+    I have proved them true at last.
+
+  I dreamt in my sweven on Thursday eve,
+    In my bed whereas I laye.
+  I dreamt a grype and a grimlie beast
+    Had carryed my crowne awaye;
+
+  My gorgett and my kirtle of golde,
+    And all my faire head-geere:
+  And he wold worrye me with his tush
+    And to his nest y-beare:
+
+  Saving there came a little 'gray' hawke,
+    A merlin him they call,
+  Which untill the grounde did strike the grype,
+    That dead he downe did fall.
+
+  Giffe I were a man, as now I am none,
+    A battell wold I prove,
+  To fight with that traitor Aldingar,
+    Att him I cast my glove.
+
+  But seeing Ime able noe battell to make,
+    My liege, grant me a knight
+  To fight with that traitor Sir Aldingar,
+    To maintaine me in my right.
+
+  "Now forty dayes I will give thee
+    To seeke thee a knight therein:
+  If thou find not a knight in forty dayes
+    Thy bodye it must brenn."
+
+  Then shee sent east, and shee sent west,
+    By north and south bedeene:
+  But never a champion colde she find,
+    Wolde fight with that knight soe keene.
+
+  Now twenty dayes were spent and gone,
+    Noe helpe there might be had;
+  Many a teare shed our comelye queene
+    And aye her hart was sad.
+
+  Then came one of the queenes damselles,
+    And knelt upon her knee,
+  "Cheare up, cheare up, my gracious dame,
+    I trust yet helpe may be:
+
+  And here I will make mine avowe,
+    And with the same me binde;
+  That never will I return to thee,
+    Till I some helpe may finde."
+
+  Then forth she rode on a faire palfraye
+    Oer hill and dale about:
+  But never a champion colde she finde,
+    Wolde fighte with that knight so stout.
+
+  And nowe the daye drewe on a pace,
+    When our good queene must dye;
+  All woe-begone was that faire damselle,
+    When she found no helpe was nye.
+
+  All woe-begone was that faire damselle,
+    And the salt teares fell from her eye:
+  When lo! as she rode by a rivers side,
+    She met with a tinye boye.
+
+  A tinye boye she mette, God wot,
+    All clad in mantle of golde;
+  He seemed noe more in mans likenesse,
+    Then a childe of four yeere old.
+
+  Why grieve you, damselle faire, he sayd,
+    And what doth cause you moane?
+  The damsell scant wolde deigne a looke,
+    But fast she pricked on.
+
+  Yet turne againe, thou faire damselle
+    And greete thy queene from mee:
+  When bale is att hyest, boote is nyest,
+    Nowe helpe enoughe may bee.
+
+  Bid her remember what she dreamt
+    In her bedd, wheras shee laye;
+  How when the grype and grimly beast
+    Wolde have carried her crowne awaye,
+
+  Even then there came the little gray hawke,
+    And saved her from his clawes:
+  Then bidd the queene be merry at hart,
+    For heaven will fende her cause.
+
+  Back then rode that faire damselle,
+    And her hart it lept for glee:
+  And when she told her gracious dame
+    A gladd woman then was shee:
+
+  But when the appointed day was come,
+    No helpe appeared nye:
+  Then woeful, woeful was her hart,
+    And the teares stood in her eye.
+
+  And nowe a fyer was built of wood;
+    And a stake was made of tree;
+  And now Queene Elinor forth was led,
+    A sorrowful sight to see.
+
+  Three times the herault he waved his hand,
+    And three times spake on hye:
+  Giff any good knight will fende this dame,
+    Come forth, or shee must dye.
+
+  No knight stood forth, no knight there came,
+    No helpe appeared nye:
+  And now the fyer was lighted up,
+    Queen Elinor she must dye.
+
+  And now the fyer was lighted up,
+    As hot as hot might bee;
+  When riding upon a little white steed,
+    The tinye boy they see.
+
+  "Away with that stake, away with those brands,
+    And loose our comelye queene:
+  I am come to fight with Sir Aldingar,
+    And prove him a traitor keene."
+
+  Forthe then stood Sir Aldingar,
+    But when he saw the chylde,
+  He laughed, and scoffed, and turned his backe,
+    And weened he had been beguylde.
+
+  "Now turne, now turne thee, Aldingar,
+    And eyther fighte or flee;
+  I trust that I shall avenge the wronge,
+    Thoughe I am so small to see."
+
+  The boy pulld forth a well good sworde
+    So gilt it dazzled the ee;
+  The first stroke stricken at Aldingar,
+    Smote off his leggs by the knee.
+
+  "Stand up, stand up, thou false traitor,
+    And fight upon thy feete,
+  For and thou thrive, as thou begin'st,
+    Of height wee shall be meete."
+
+  A priest, a priest, sayes Aldingar,
+    While I am a man alive.
+  A priest, a priest, sayes Aldingar,
+    Me for to houzle and shrive.
+
+  I wolde have laine by our comlie queene,
+    Bot shee wolde never consent;
+  Then I thought to betraye her unto our kinge
+    In a fyer to have her brent.
+
+  There came a lazar to the kings gates,
+    A lazar both blind and lame:
+  I tooke the lazar upon my backe,
+    And on her bedd had him layne.
+
+  Then ranne I to our comlye king,
+    These tidings sore to tell.
+  But ever alacke! sayes Aldingar,
+    Falsing never doth well.
+
+  Forgive, forgive me, queene, madame,
+    The short time I must live.
+  "Nowe Christ forgive thee, Aldingar,
+    As freely I forgive."
+
+  Here take thy queene, our king Harrye,
+    And love her as thy life,
+  For never had a king in Christentye.
+    A truer and fairer wife.
+
+  King Henrye ran to claspe his queene,
+    And loosed her full sone:
+  Then turned to look for the tinye boye;
+    --The boye was vanisht and gone.
+
+  But first he had touched the lazar man,
+    And stroakt him with his hand:
+  The lazar under the gallowes tree
+    All whole and sounde did stand.
+
+  The lazar under the gallowes tree
+    Was comelye, straight and tall;
+  King Henrye made him his head stewarde
+    To wayte withinn his hall.
+
+
+
+
+EDOM O' GORDON
+
+[Illustration: Edom O' Gordon headpiece]
+
+
+  It fell about the Martinmas,
+    Quhen the wind blew shril and cauld,
+  Said Edom o' Gordon to his men,
+    We maun draw till a hauld.
+
+  And quhat a hauld sall we draw till,
+    My mirry men and me?
+  We wul gae to the house o' the Rodes,
+    To see that fair ladie.
+
+  The lady stude on her castle wa',
+    Beheld baith dale and down:
+  There she was ware of a host of men
+    Cum ryding towards the toun.
+
+  O see ze nat, my mirry men a'?
+    O see za nat quhat I see?
+  Methinks I see a host of men:
+    I marveil quha they be.
+
+  She weend it had been hir luvely lord,
+    As he cam ryding hame;
+  It was the traitor Edom o' Gordon,
+    Quha reckt nae sin nor shame.
+
+  She had nae sooner buskit hirsel,
+    And putten on hir goun,
+  But Edom o' Gordon and his men
+    Were round about the toun.
+
+  They had nae sooner supper sett,
+    Nae sooner said the grace,
+  But Edom o' Gordon and his men
+    Were light about the place.
+
+  The lady ran up to hir towir head,
+    Sa fast as she could hie,
+  To see if by hir fair speeches
+    She could wi' him agree.
+
+  But quhan he see this lady saif,
+    And hir yates all locked fast,
+  He fell into a rage of wrath,
+    And his look was all aghast.
+
+  Cum doun to me, ze lady gay,
+    Cum doun, cum doun to me:
+  This night sall ye lig within mine armes,
+    To-morrow my bride sall be.
+
+  I winnae cum doun ze fals Gordon,
+    I winnae cum doun to thee;
+  I winna forsake my ain dear lord,
+    That is sae far frae me.
+
+  Give owre zour house, ze lady fair,
+    Give owre zour house to me,
+  Or I sall brenn yoursel therein,
+    Bot and zour babies three.
+
+  I winnae give owre, ze false Gordon,
+    To nae sik traitor as zee;
+  And if ze brenn my ain dear babes,
+    My lord sall make ze drie.
+
+  But reach my pistoll, Glaud my man,
+    And charge ze weil my gun:
+  For, but an I pierce that bluidy butcher,
+    My babes we been undone.
+
+  She stude upon hir castle wa',
+    And let twa bullets flee:
+  She mist that bluidy butchers hart,
+    And only raz'd his knee.
+
+  Set fire to the house, quo' fals Gordon,
+    All wood wi' dule and ire:
+  Fals lady, ze sall rue this deid,
+    As ze bren in the fire.
+
+  Wae worth, wae worth ze, Jock my man,
+    I paid ze weil zour fee;
+  Quhy pu' ze out the ground-wa' stane,
+    Lets in the reek to me?
+
+  And ein wae worth ze, Jock my man,
+    I paid ze weil zour hire;
+  Quhy pu' ze out the ground-wa' stane,
+    To me lets in the fire?
+
+  Ze paid me weil my hire, lady;
+    Ze paid me weil my fee:
+  But now I'm Edom o' Gordons man,
+    Maun either doe or die.
+
+  O than bespaik hir little son,
+    Sate on the nurses knee:
+  Sayes, Mither deare, gi' owre this house,
+    For the reek it smithers me.
+
+  I wad gie a' my gowd, my childe,
+    Say wald I a' my fee,
+  For ane blast o' the western wind,
+    To blaw the reek frae thee.
+
+  O then bespaik hir dochter dear,
+    She was baith jimp and sma;
+  O row me in a pair o' sheits,
+    And tow me owre the wa.
+
+  They rowd hir in a pair o' sheits,
+    And towd hir owre the wa:
+  But on the point of Gordons spear
+    She gat a deadly fa.
+
+  O bonnie bonnie was hir mouth,
+    And cherry were her cheiks,
+  And clear clear was hir zellow hair,
+    Whereon the reid bluid dreips.
+
+  Then wi' his spear he turnd hir owre,
+    O gin hir face was wan!
+  He sayd, Ze are the first that eir
+    I wisht alive again.
+
+  He turnd hir owre and owre againe,
+    O gin hir skin was whyte!
+  I might ha spared that bonnie face
+    To hae been sum mans delyte.
+
+  Busk and boun, my merry men a',
+    For ill dooms I doe guess;
+  I cannae luik in that bonnie face,
+    As it lyes on the grass.
+
+  Thame, luiks to freits, my master deir,
+    Then freits wil follow thame:
+  Let neir be said brave Edom o' Gordon
+    Was daunted by a dame.
+
+  But quhen the ladye see the fire
+    Cum flaming owre hir head,
+  She wept and kist her children twain,
+    Sayd, Bairns, we been but dead.
+
+  The Gordon then his bougill blew,
+    And said, Awa', awa';
+  This house o' the Rodes is a' in flame,
+    I hauld it time to ga'.
+
+  O then bespyed hir ain dear lord,
+    As hee cam owr the lee;
+  He sied his castle all in blaze
+     Sa far as he could see.
+
+  Then sair, O sair his mind misgave,
+    And all his hart was wae;
+  Put on, put on, my wighty men,
+    So fast as ze can gae.
+
+  Put on, put on, my wighty men,
+    Sa fast as ze can drie;
+  For he that is hindmost of the thrang
+    Sall neir get guid o' me.
+
+  Than sum they rade, and sum they rin,
+    Fou fast out-owr the bent;
+  But eir the foremost could get up,
+    Baith lady and babes were brent.
+
+  He wrang his hands, he rent his hair,
+    And wept in teenefu' muid:
+  O traitors, for this cruel deid
+    Ze sall weep tiers o' bluid.
+
+  And after the Gordon he is gane,
+    Sa fast as he might drie.
+  And soon i' the Gordon's foul hartis bluid
+    He's wroken his dear ladie.
+
+
+[Illustration: Edom O' Gordon tailpiece]
+
+
+
+
+CHEVY CHACE
+
+[Illustration: Chevy Chace headpiece]
+
+
+  God prosper long our noble king,
+    Our lives and safetyes all;
+  A woefull hunting once there did
+    In Chevy-Chace befall;
+
+  To drive the deere with hound and horne,
+    Erle Percy took his way,
+  The child may rue that is unborne,
+    The hunting of that day.
+
+  The stout Erle of Northumberland
+    A vow to God did make,
+  His pleasure in the Scottish woods
+    Three summers days to take;
+
+  The cheefest harts in Chevy-chace
+    To kill and beare away.
+  These tydings to Erle Douglas came,
+    In Scotland where he lay:
+
+  Who sent Erle Percy present word,
+    He wold prevent his sport.
+  The English erle, not fearing that,
+    Did to the woods resort
+
+  With fifteen hundred bow-men bold;
+    All chosen men of might,
+  Who knew full well in time of neede
+    To ayme their shafts arright.
+
+  The galland greyhounds swiftly ran,
+    To chase the fallow deere:
+  On munday they began to hunt,
+    Ere day-light did appeare;
+
+  And long before high noone they had
+    An hundred fat buckes slaine;
+  Then having dined, the drovyers went
+    To rouze the deare againe.
+
+  The bow-men mustered on the hills,
+    Well able to endure;
+  Theire backsides all, with speciall care,
+    That day were guarded sure.
+
+  The hounds ran swiftly through the woods,
+    The nimble deere to take,
+  That with their cryes the hills and dales
+    An eccho shrill did make.
+
+  Lord Percy to the quarry went,
+    To view the slaughter'd deere;
+  Quoth he, Erle Douglas promised
+    This day to meet me heere:
+
+  But if I thought he wold not come,
+    Noe longer wold I stay.
+  With that, a brave younge gentleman
+    Thus to the Erle did say:
+
+  Loe, yonder doth Erle Douglas come,
+    His men in armour bright;
+  Full twenty hundred Scottish speres
+    All marching in our sight;
+
+  All men of pleasant Tivydale,
+    Fast by the river Tweede:
+  O cease your sports, Erle Percy said,
+    And take your bowes with speede:
+
+  And now with me, my countrymen,
+    Your courage forth advance;
+  For there was never champion yett,
+    In Scotland nor in France,
+
+  That ever did on horsebacke come,
+    But if my hap it were,
+  I durst encounter man for man,
+    With him to break a spere.
+
+  Erle Douglas on his milke-white steede,
+    Most like a baron bolde,
+  Rode foremost of his company,
+    Whose armour shone like gold.
+
+  Show me, sayd hee, whose men you bee,
+    That hunt soe boldly heere,
+  That, without my consent, doe chase
+    And kill my fallow-deere.
+
+  The first man that did answer make
+    Was noble Percy hee;
+  Who sayd, Wee list not to declare,
+    Nor shew whose men wee bee:
+
+  Yet wee will spend our deerest blood,
+    Thy cheefest harts to slay.
+  Then Douglas swore a solempne oathe,
+    And thus in rage did say,
+
+  Ere thus I will out-braved bee,
+    One of us two shall dye:
+  I know thee well, an erle thou art;
+    Lord Percy, soe am I.
+
+  But trust me, Percy, pittye it were,
+    And great offence to kill
+  Any of these our guiltlesse men,
+    For they have done no ill.
+
+  Let thou and I the battell trye,
+    And set our men aside.
+  Accurst bee he, Erle Percy sayd,
+    By whome this is denyed.
+
+  Then stept a gallant squier forth,
+    Witherington was his name,
+  Who said, I wold not have it told
+    To Henry our king for shame,
+
+  That ere my captaine fought on foote,
+    And I stood looking on.
+  You be two erles, sayd Witherington,
+    And I a squier alone:
+
+  He doe the best that doe I may,
+    While I have power to stand:
+  While I have power to weeld my sword
+    He fight with hart and hand.
+
+  Our English archers bent their bowes,
+    Their harts were good and trew;
+  Att the first flight of arrowes sent,
+    Full four-score Scots they slew.
+
+  Yet bides Earl Douglas on the bent,
+    As Chieftain stout and good.
+  As valiant Captain, all unmov'd
+    The shock he firmly stood.
+
+  His host he parted had in three,
+    As Leader ware and try'd,
+  And soon his spearmen on their foes
+    Bare down on every side.
+
+  To drive the deere with hound and horne,
+    Douglas bade on the bent
+  Two captaines moved with mickle might
+    Their speres to shivers went.
+
+  Throughout the English archery
+    They dealt full many a wound:
+  But still our valiant Englishmen
+    All firmly kept their ground:
+
+  And throwing strait their bows away,
+    They grasp'd their swords so bright:
+  And now sharp blows, a heavy shower,
+    On shields and helmets light.
+
+  They closed full fast on every side,
+    Noe slackness there was found:
+  And many a gallant gentleman
+    Lay gasping on the ground.
+
+  O Christ! it was a griefe to see;
+    And likewise for to heare,
+  The cries of men lying in their gore,
+    And scattered here and there.
+
+  At last these two stout erles did meet,
+    Like captaines of great might:
+  Like lyons wood, they layd on lode,
+    And made a cruell fight:
+
+  They fought untill they both did sweat,
+    With swords of tempered steele;
+  Untill the blood, like drops of rain,
+    They tricklin downe did feele.
+
+  Yeeld thee, Lord Percy, Douglas sayd
+    In faith I will thee bringe,
+  Where thou shalt high advanced bee
+    By James our Scottish king:
+
+  Thy ransome I will freely give,
+    And this report of thee,
+  Thou art the most couragious knight,
+    That ever I did see.
+
+  Noe, Douglas, quoth Erle Percy then,
+    Thy proffer I doe scorne;
+  I will not yeelde to any Scott,
+    That ever yett was borne.
+
+  With that, there came an arrow keene
+    Out of an English bow,
+  Which struck Erle Douglas to the heart,
+    A deepe and deadlye blow:
+
+  Who never spake more words than these,
+    Fight on, my merry men all;
+  For why, my life is at an end;
+    Lord Percy sees my fall.
+
+  Then leaving liffe, Erie Percy tooke
+    The dead man by the hand;
+  And said, Erle Douglas, for thy life
+    Wold I had lost my land.
+
+  O Christ! my verry hart doth bleed
+    With sorrow for thy sake;
+  For sure, a more redoubted knight
+    Mischance cold never take.
+
+  A knight amongst the Scotts there was
+    Which saw Erle Douglas dye,
+  Who streight in wrath did vow revenge
+    Upon the Lord Percye:
+
+  Sir Hugh Mountgomery was he call'd,
+    Who, with a spere most bright,
+  Well-mounted on a gallant steed,
+    Ran fiercely through the fight;
+
+  And past the English archers all,
+    Without all dread or feare;
+  And through Earl Percyes body then
+    He thrust his hatefull spere;
+
+  With such a vehement force and might
+    He did his body gore,
+  The staff ran through the other side
+    A large cloth-yard and more.
+
+  So thus did both these nobles dye,
+    Whose courage none could staine:
+  An English archer then perceiv'd
+    The noble erle was slaine;
+
+  He had a bow bent in his hand,
+    Made of a trusty tree;
+  An arrow of a cloth-yard long
+    Up to the head drew hee:
+
+  Against Sir Hugh Mountgomerye,
+    So right the shaft he sett,
+  The grey goose-winge that was thereon,
+    In his harts bloode was wette.
+
+  This fight did last from breake of day,
+    Till setting of the sun;
+  For when they rang the evening-bell,
+    The battel scarce was done.
+
+  With stout Erle Percy there was slaine
+    Sir John of Egerton,
+  Sir Robert Ratcliff, and Sir John,
+    Sir James that bold barron:
+
+  And with Sir George and stout Sir James,
+    Both knights of good account,
+  Good Sir Ralph Raby there was slaine,
+    Whose prowesse did surmount.
+
+  For Witherington needs must I wayle,
+    As one in doleful dumpes;
+  For when his leggs were smitten off,
+    He fought upon his stumpes.
+
+  And with Erle Douglas, there was slaine
+    Sir Hugh Montgomerye,
+  Sir Charles Murray, that from the feeld
+    One foote wold never flee.
+
+  Sir Charles Murray, of Ratcliff, too,
+    His sisters sonne was hee;
+  Sir David Lamb, so well esteem'd,
+    Yet saved cold not bee.
+
+  And the Lord Maxwell in like case
+    Did with Erle Douglas dye:
+  Of twenty hundred Scottish speres,
+    Scarce fifty-five did flye.
+
+  Of fifteen hundred Englishmen,
+    Went home but fifty-three;
+  The rest were slaine in Chevy-Chace,
+    Under the greene woode tree.
+
+  Next day did many widowes come,
+    Their husbands to bewayle;
+  They washt their wounds in brinish teares,
+    But all wold not prevayle.
+
+  Theyr bodyes, bathed in purple gore,
+    They bare with them away:
+  They kist them dead a thousand times,
+    Ere they were cladd in clay.
+
+  The news was brought to Eddenborrow,
+    Where Scottlands king did raigne,
+  That brave Erle Douglas suddenlye
+    Was with an arrow slaine:
+
+  O heavy newes, King James did say,
+    Scotland may witnesse bee,
+  I have not any captaine more
+    Of such account as hee.
+
+  Like tydings to King Henry came,
+    Within as short a space,
+  That Percy of Northumberland
+    Was slaine in Chevy-Chace:
+
+  Now God be with him, said our king,
+    Sith it will noe better bee;
+  I trust I have, within my realme,
+    Five hundred as good as hee:
+
+  Yett shall not Scotts nor Scotland say,
+    But I will vengeance take:
+  I'll be revenged on them all,
+    For brave Erle Percyes sake.
+
+  This vow full well the king perform'd
+    After, at Humbledowne;
+  In one day, fifty knights were slayne,
+    With lords of great renowne:
+
+  And of the rest, of small acount,
+    Did many thousands dye:
+  Thus endeth the hunting of Chevy-Chase,
+    Made by the Erle Percy.
+
+  God save our king, and bless this land
+    With plenty, joy, and peace;
+  And grant henceforth, that foule debate
+    'Twixt noblemen may cease.
+
+[Illustration: Chevy Chace tailpiece]
+
+
+
+SIR LANCELOT DU LAKE
+
+[Illustration: Sir Lancelot Du Lake headpiece]
+
+
+  When Arthur first in court began,
+    And was approved king,
+   By force of armes great victorys wanne,
+  And conquest home did bring,
+
+  Then into England straight he came
+    With fifty good and able
+  Knights, that resorted unto him,
+    And were of his round table:
+
+  And he had justs and turnaments,
+    Whereto were many prest,
+  Wherein some knights did far excell
+    And eke surmount the rest.
+
+  But one Sir Lancelot du Lake,
+    Who was approved well,
+  He for his deeds and feats of armes
+    All others did excell.
+
+  When he had rested him a while,
+    In play, and game, and sportt,
+  He said he wold goe prove himselfe
+    In some adventurous sort.
+
+  He armed rode in a forrest wide,
+    And met a damsell faire,
+  Who told him of adventures great,
+    Whereto he gave great eare.
+
+  Such wold I find, quoth Lancelott:
+    For that cause came I hither.
+  Thou seemest, quoth shee, a knight full good,
+    And I will bring thee thither.
+
+  Wheras a mighty knight doth dwell,
+    That now is of great fame:
+  Therefore tell me what wight thou art,
+    And what may be thy name.
+
+  "My name is Lancelot du Lake."
+    Quoth she, it likes me than:
+  Here dwelles a knight who never was
+    Yet matcht with any man:
+
+  Who has in prison threescore knights
+    And four, that he did wound;
+  Knights of King Arthurs court they be,
+    And of his table round.
+
+  She brought him to a river side,
+    And also to a tree,
+  Whereon a copper bason hung,
+    And many shields to see.
+
+  He struck soe hard, the bason broke;
+    And Tarquin soon he spyed:
+  Who drove a horse before him fast,
+    Whereon a knight lay tyed.
+
+  Sir knight, then sayd Sir Lancelett,
+    Bring me that horse-load hither,
+  And lay him downe, and let him rest;
+    Weel try our force together:
+
+  For, as I understand, thou hast,
+    So far as thou art able,
+  Done great despite and shame unto
+    The knights of the Round Table.
+
+  If thou be of the Table Round,
+    Quoth Tarquin speedilye,
+  Both thee and all thy fellowship
+    I utterly defye.
+
+  That's over much, quoth Lancelott tho,
+    Defend thee by and by.
+  They sett their speares unto their steeds,
+    And eache att other flie.
+
+  They coucht theire speares (their horses ran,
+    As though there had beene thunder),
+  And strucke them each immidst their shields,
+    Wherewith they broke in sunder.
+
+  Their horsses backes brake under them,
+    The knights were both astound:
+  To avoyd their horsses they made haste
+    And light upon the ground.
+
+  They tooke them to their shields full fast,
+    Their swords they drewe out than,
+  With mighty strokes most eagerlye
+    Each at the other ran.
+
+  They wounded were, and bled full sore,
+    They both for breath did stand,
+  And leaning on their swords awhile,
+    Quoth Tarquine, Hold thy hand,
+
+  And tell to me what I shall aske.
+    Say on, quoth Lancelot tho.
+  Thou art, quoth Tarquine, the best knight
+    That ever I did know:
+
+  And like a knight, that I did hate:
+    Soe that thou be not hee,
+  I will deliver all the rest,
+    And eke accord with thee.
+
+  That is well said, quoth Lancelott;
+    But sith it must be soe,
+  What knight is that thou hatest thus
+    I pray thee to me show.
+
+  His name is Lancelot du Lake,
+    He slew my brother deere;
+  Him I suspect of all the rest:
+    I would I had him here.
+
+  Thy wish thou hast, but yet unknowne,
+    I am Lancelot du Lake,
+  Now knight of Arthurs Table Round;
+    King Hauds son of Schuwake;
+
+  And I desire thee to do thy worst.
+    Ho, ho, quoth Tarquin tho'
+  One of us two shall ende our lives
+    Before that we do go.
+
+  If thou be Lancelot du Lake,
+    Then welcome shalt thou bee:
+  Wherfore see thou thyself defend,
+    For now defye I thee.
+
+  They buckled them together so,
+    Like unto wild boares rashing;
+  And with their swords and shields they ran
+    At one another slashing:
+
+  The ground besprinkled was with blood:
+    Tarquin began to yield;
+  For he gave backe for wearinesse,
+    And lowe did beare his shield.
+
+  This soone Sir Lancelot espyde,
+    He leapt upon him then,
+  He pull'd him downe upon his knee,
+    And rushing off his helm,
+
+  Forthwith he strucke his necke in two,
+    And, when he had soe done,
+  From prison threescore knights and four
+    Delivered everye one.
+
+
+
+
+GIL MORRICE
+
+[Illustration: Gil Morrice headpiece]
+
+
+[Illustration: Gil Morrice]
+
+  Gil Morrice was an erles son,
+     His name it waxed wide;
+    It was nae for his great riches,
+  Nor zet his mickle pride;
+  Bot it was for a lady gay,
+    That livd on Carron side.
+
+  Quhair sail 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 sail ride.
+
+  O no! Oh no! my master dear!
+    I dare nae for my life;
+  I'll no gae to the bauld barons,
+    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 sall 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.
+
+  Gae bid hir take this gay mantel,
+    'Tis a' gowd hot 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 sail 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 he came to grass growing,
+    Set down his feet and ran.
+
+  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.
+
+  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 mantel,
+    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 Morice:
+    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-woman;
+    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 Morice,
+    It's deir welcum to mee.
+
+  Ze leid, ze leid, ze filthy nurse,
+    Sae loud I heird zee lee;
+  I brocht it to Lord Barnards lady;
+    I trow ze be nae shee.
+  Then up and spack the bauld baron,
+    An angry man was hee;
+  He's tain the table wi' his foot,
+    Sae has he wi' his knee;
+  Till siller cup and 'mazer' dish
+    In flinders he gard flee.
+
+  Gae bring a robe of zour cliding,
+    That hings upon the pin;
+  And I'll gae to the gude grene wode,
+    And speik wi' zour lemman.
+  O bide at hame, now Lord Barnard,
+    I warde ze bide at hame;
+  Neir wyte a man for violence,
+    That neir wate ze wi' nane.
+
+  Gil Morice sate in gude grene wode,
+    He whistled and he sang:
+  O what mean a' the folk coming,
+    My mother tarries lang.
+  His hair was like the threeds of gold,
+    Drawne frae Minerva's 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.
+
+  The baron came to the grene wode,
+    Wi' mickle dule and care,
+  And there he first spied Gill Morice
+    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 despair.
+
+  Nae wonder, nae wonder, Gill Morice,
+    My lady loed thee weel,
+  The fairest part of my bodie
+    Is blacker than thy heel.
+  Zet neir the less now, Gill Morice,
+    For a' thy great beautie,
+  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's 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.
+
+  Far better I loe that bluidy head,
+    Both 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.
+
+  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;
+  But 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 woman,
+    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.
+
+  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 been 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 winsome 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 mine ain;
+  I'll neir forget the dreiry day
+    On which the zouth was slain.
+
+
+[Illustration: Gil Morrice tailpiece]
+
+
+
+
+THE CHILD of ELLE
+
+[Illustration: The Child of Elle headpiece]
+
+
+  On yondre hill a castle standes
+    With walles and towres bedight,
+   And yonder lives the Child of Elle,
+  A younge and comely knighte.
+
+  The Child of Elle to his garden went,
+    And stood at his garden pale,
+  Whan, lo! he beheld fair Emmelines page
+    Come trippinge downe the dale.
+
+  The Child of Elle he hyed him thence,
+    Y-wis he stoode not stille,
+  And soone he mette faire Emmelines page
+    Come climbinge up the hille.
+
+  Nowe Christe thee save, thou little foot-page,
+    Now Christe thee save and see!
+  Oh telle me how does thy ladye gaye,
+    And what may thy tydinges bee?
+
+  My ladye shee is all woe-begone,
+    And the teares they falle from her eyne;
+  And aye she laments the deadlye feude
+    Betweene her house and thine.
+
+  And here shee sends thee a silken scarfe
+    Bedewde with many a teare,
+  And biddes thee sometimes thinke on her,
+    Who loved thee so deare.
+
+  And here shee sends thee a ring of golde
+    The last boone thou mayst have,
+  And biddes thee weare it for her sake,
+    Whan she is layde in grave.
+
+  For, ah! her gentle heart is broke,
+    And in grave soone must shee bee,
+  Sith her father hath chose her a new new love,
+    And forbidde her to think of thee.
+
+  Her father hath brought her a carlish knight,
+    Sir John of the north countraye,
+  And within three dayes she must him wedde,
+    Or he vowes he will her slaye.
+
+  Nowe hye thee backe, thou little foot-page,
+    And greet thy ladye from mee,
+  And telle her that I her owne true love
+    Will dye, or sette her free.
+
+  Nowe hye thee backe, thou little foot-page,
+    And let thy fair ladye know
+  This night will I bee at her bowre-windowe,
+    Betide me weale or woe.
+
+  The boye he tripped, the boye he ranne,
+    He neither stint ne stayd
+  Untill he came to fair Emmelines bowre,
+    Whan kneeling downe he sayd,
+
+  O ladye, I've been with thine own true love,
+    And he greets thee well by mee;
+  This night will hee bee at thy bowre-windowe,
+    And dye or sett thee free.
+
+  Nowe daye was gone, and night was come,
+    And all were fast asleepe,
+  All save the Ladye Emmeline,
+    Who sate in her bowre to weepe:
+
+  And soone shee heard her true loves voice
+    Lowe whispering at the walle,
+  Awake, awake, my deare ladye,
+    Tis I thy true love call.
+
+  Awake, awake, my ladye deare,
+    Come, mount this faire palfraye:
+  This ladder of ropes will lette thee downe
+    He carrye thee hence awaye.
+
+  Nowe nay, nowe nay, thou gentle knight,
+    Nowe nay, this may not bee;
+  For aye shold I tint my maiden fame,
+    If alone I should wend with thee.
+
+  O ladye, thou with a knighte so true
+    Mayst safelye wend alone,
+  To my ladye mother I will thee bringe,
+    Where marriage shall make us one.
+
+  "My father he is a baron bolde,
+    Of lynage proude and hye;
+  And what would he saye if his daughter
+    Awaye with a knight should fly
+
+  "Ah! well I wot, he never would rest,
+    Nor his meate should doe him no goode,
+  Until he hath slayne thee, Child of Elle,
+    And scene thy deare hearts bloode."
+
+  O ladye, wert thou in thy saddle sette,
+    And a little space him fro,
+  I would not care for thy cruel father,
+    Nor the worst that he could doe.
+
+  O ladye, wert thou in thy saddle sette,
+    And once without this walle,
+  I would not care for thy cruel father
+    Nor the worst that might befalle.
+
+  Faire Emmeline sighed, fair Emmeline wept,
+    And aye her heart was woe:
+  At length he seized her lilly-white hand,
+    And downe the ladder he drewe:
+
+  And thrice he clasped her to his breste,
+    And kist her tenderlie:
+  The teares that fell from her fair eyes
+    Ranne like the fountayne free.
+
+  Hee mounted himselfe on his steede so talle,
+    And her on a fair palfraye,
+  And slung his bugle about his necke,
+    And roundlye they rode awaye.
+
+  All this beheard her owne damselle,
+    In her bed whereas shee ley,
+  Quoth shee, My lord shall knowe of this,
+    Soe I shall have golde and fee.
+
+  Awake, awake, thou baron bolde!
+    Awake, my noble dame!
+  Your daughter is fledde with the Child of Elle
+    To doe the deede of shame.
+
+  The baron he woke, the baron he rose,
+    And called his merrye men all:
+  "And come thou forth, Sir John the knighte,
+    Thy ladye is carried to thrall."
+
+  Faire Emmeline scant had ridden a mile,
+    A mile forth of the towne,
+  When she was aware of her fathers men
+    Come galloping over the downe:
+
+  And foremost came the carlish knight,
+    Sir John of the north countraye:
+  "Nowe stop, nowe stop, thou false traitoure,
+    Nor carry that ladye awaye.
+
+  "For she is come of hye lineage,
+    And was of a ladye borne,
+  And ill it beseems thee, a false churl's sonne,
+    To carrye her hence to scorne."
+
+  Nowe loud thou lyest, Sir John the knight,
+    Nowe thou doest lye of mee;
+  A knight mee gott, and a ladye me bore,
+    Soe never did none by thee
+
+  But light nowe downe, my ladye faire,
+    Light downe, and hold my steed,
+  While I and this discourteous knighte
+    Doe trye this arduous deede.
+
+  But light now downe, my deare ladye,
+    Light downe, and hold my horse;
+  While I and this discourteous knight
+    Doe trye our valour's force.
+
+  Fair Emmeline sighed, fair Emmeline wept,
+    And aye her heart was woe,
+  While twixt her love and the carlish knight
+    Past many a baleful blowe.
+
+  The Child of Elle hee fought so well,
+    As his weapon he waved amaine,
+  That soone he had slaine the carlish knight,
+    And layd him upon the plaine.
+
+  And nowe the baron and all his men
+    Full fast approached nye:
+  Ah! what may ladye Emmeline doe
+    Twere nowe no boote to flye.
+
+  Her lover he put his horne to his mouth,
+    And blew both loud and shrill,
+  And soone he saw his owne merry men
+    Come ryding over the hill.
+
+  "Nowe hold thy hand, thou bold baron,
+    I pray thee hold thy hand,
+  Nor ruthless rend two gentle hearts
+    Fast knit in true love's band.
+
+  Thy daughter I have dearly loved
+    Full long and many a day;
+  But with such love as holy kirke
+    Hath freelye sayd wee may.
+
+  O give consent, shee may be mine,
+    And blesse a faithfull paire:
+  My lands and livings are not small,
+    My house and lineage faire:
+
+  My mother she was an earl's daughter,
+    And a noble knyght my sire--
+  The baron he frowned, and turn'd away
+    With mickle dole and ire.
+
+  Fair Emmeline sighed, faire Emmeline wept,
+    And did all tremblinge stand:
+  At lengthe she sprang upon her knee,
+    And held his lifted hand.
+
+  Pardon, my lorde and father deare,
+    This faire yong knyght and mee:
+  Trust me, but for the carlish knyght,
+    I never had fled from thee.
+
+  Oft have you called your Emmeline
+    Your darling and your joye;
+  O let not then your harsh resolves
+    Your Emmeline destroye.
+
+  The baron he stroakt his dark-brown cheeke,
+    And turned his heade asyde
+  To whipe awaye the starting teare
+    He proudly strave to hyde.
+
+  In deepe revolving thought he stoode,
+    And mused a little space;
+  Then raised faire Emmeline from the grounde,
+    With many a fond embrace.
+
+  Here take her, Child of Elle, he sayd,
+    And gave her lillye white hand;
+  Here take my deare and only child,
+    And with her half my land:
+
+  Thy father once mine honour wrongde
+    In dayes of youthful pride;
+  Do thou the injurye repayre
+    In fondnesse for thy bride.
+
+  And as thou love her, and hold her deare,
+    Heaven prosper thee and thine:
+  And nowe my blessing wend wi' thee,
+    My lovelye Emmeline.
+
+[Illustration: The Child of Elle tailpiece]
+
+
+
+
+CHILD WATERS
+
+[Illustration: The Child Waters headpiece]
+
+
+[Illustration: The Child Waters]
+
+
+  Childe Waters in his stable stoode
+    And stroakt his milke white steede:
+  To him a fayre yonge ladye came
+    As ever ware womans weede.
+
+  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.
+
+  And all is with one chyld of yours,
+    I feel sturre att my side:
+  My gowne of greene it is too straighte;
+    Before, it was too wide.
+
+  If the child 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.
+
+  If the childe be mine, fair Ellen, he sayd,
+    Be mine, as you doe sweare;
+  Then take you Cheshire and Lancashire both,
+    And make that child your heyre.
+
+  Shee saies, I had rather have one kisse,
+    Child Waters, of thy mouth;
+  Than I wolde have Cheshire and Lancashire both,
+    That laye by north and south.
+
+  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.
+
+  To morrow, Ellen, I must forth ryde
+    Farr into the north countrie;
+  The fairest lady that I can find,
+    Ellen, must goe with mee.
+
+  'Thoughe I am not that lady fayre,
+    'Yet let me go with thee:'
+  And ever I pray you, Child Waters,
+    Your foot-page let me bee.
+
+  If you will my foot-page be, Ellen,
+    As you doe tell to mee;
+  Then you must cut your gowne of greene,
+    An inch above your knee:
+
+  Soe must you doe your yellow lockes,
+    An inch above your ee:
+  You must tell no man what is my name;
+    My foot-page then you shall bee.
+
+  Shee, all the long day Child Waters rode,
+    Ran barefoote by his side;
+  Yett was he never soe courteous a knighte,
+    To say, Ellen, will you ryde?
+
+  Shee, all the long day Child Waters rode,
+    Ran barefoote thorow the broome;
+  Yett hee was never soe curteous a knighte,
+    To say, put on your shoone.
+
+  Ride softlye, shee sayd, O Childe Waters,
+    Why doe you ryde soe fast?
+  The childe, which is no mans but thine,
+    My bodye itt will brast.
+
+  Hee sayth, seeth thou yonder water, Ellen,
+    That flows from bank to brimme?--
+  I trust to God, O Child Waters,
+    You never will see mee swimme.
+
+  But when shee came to the waters side,
+    Shee sayled to the chinne:
+  Except the Lord of heaven be my speed,
+    Now must I learne to swimme.
+
+  The salt waters bare up her clothes;
+    Our Ladye bare upp her chinne:
+  Childe Waters was a woe man, good Lord,
+    To see faire Ellen swimme.
+
+  And when shee over the water was,
+    Shee then came to his knee:
+  He said, Come hither, thou fair Ellen,
+    Loe yonder what I see.
+
+  Seest thou not yonder hall, Ellen?
+    Of redd gold shines the yate;
+  Of twenty foure faire ladyes there,
+    The fairest is my mate.
+
+  Seest thou not yonder hall, Ellen?
+    Of redd gold shines the towre:
+  There are twenty four fair ladyes there,
+    The fairest is my paramoure.
+
+  I see the hall now, Child Waters,
+    Of redd golde shines the yate:
+  God give you good now of yourselfe,
+    And of your worthye mate.
+
+  I see the hall now, Child Waters,
+    Of redd gold shines the towre:
+  God give you good now of yourselfe,
+    And of your paramoure.
+
+  There twenty four fayre ladyes were
+    A playing att the ball:
+  And Ellen the fairest 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 gresse.
+
+  And then bespake Childe Waters sister,
+    These were the wordes said shee:
+  You have the prettyest foot-page, brother,
+    That ever I saw with mine ee.
+
+  But that his bellye it is soe bigg,
+    His girdle goes wonderous hie:
+  And let him, I pray you, Childe Wateres,
+    Goe into the chamber with mee.
+
+  It is not fit for a little foot-page,
+    That has run throughe mosse and myre,
+  To go into the chamber with any ladye,
+    That weares soe riche attyre.
+
+  It is more meete for a litle foot-page,
+    That has run throughe mosse and myre,
+  To take his supper upon his knee,
+    And sitt downe by the kitchen fyer.
+
+  But 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.
+
+  Goe thee downe into yonder towne,
+    And low into the street;
+  The fayrest ladye that thou can finde,
+
+    Hyer her in mine armes to sleepe,
+  And take her up in thine armes twaine,
+    For filinge of her feete.
+
+  Ellen is gone into the towne,
+    And low into the streete:
+  The fairest ladye that she cold find,
+    Shee hyred in his armes to sleepe;
+  And tooke her up in her armes twayne,
+    For filing of her feete.
+
+  I pray you nowe, good Child Waters,
+    Let mee lye at your bedds feete:
+  For there is noe place about this house,
+    Where I may 'saye a sleepe.
+
+  'He gave her leave, and faire Ellen
+    '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 litle foot-page,
+    Give my steede corne and haye;
+  And soe doe thou the good black oats,
+    To carry mee better awaye.
+
+  Up then rose the faire Ellen,
+    And gave his steede corne and hay:
+  And soe shee did the good blacke oats,
+    To carry him the better away.
+
+  Shee leaned her backe to the manger side,
+    And grievouslye did groane:
+  Shee leaned her backe to the manger side,
+    And there shee made her moane.
+
+  And that beheard his mother deere,
+    Shee heard her there monand.
+  Shee sayd, Rise up, thou Childe Waters,
+    I think thee a cursed man.
+
+  For in thy stable is a ghost,
+    That grievouslye doth grone:
+  Or else some woman laboures of childe,
+    She is soe woe-begone.
+
+  Up then rose Childe Waters soon,
+    And did on his shirte of silke;
+  And then he put on his other clothes,
+    On his body as white as milke.
+
+  And when he came to the stable dore,
+    Full still there he did stand,
+  That hee mighte heare his fayre Ellen
+    Howe shee made her monand.
+
+  Shee sayd, Lullabye, mine owne deere child,
+    Lullabye, dere child, dere;
+  I wold thy father were a king,
+    Thy mother layd on a biere.
+
+  Peace now, he said, good faire Ellen,
+    Be of good cheere, I praye;
+  And the bridal and the churching both
+    Shall bee upon one day.
+
+
+
+KING EDWARD IV & THE TANNER OF TAMWORTH
+
+[Illustration: King Edward IV headpiece]
+
+
+  In summer time, when leaves grow greene,
+     And blossoms bedecke the tree,
+  King Edward wolde a hunting ryde,
+    Some pastime for to see.
+
+  With hawke and hounde he made him bowne,
+    With horne, and eke with bowe;
+  To Drayton Basset he tooke his waye,
+    With all his lordes a rowe.
+
+  And he had ridden ore dale and downe
+    By eight of clocke in the day,
+  When he was ware of a bold tanner,
+    Come ryding along the waye.
+
+  A fayre russet coat the tanner had on
+    Fast buttoned under his chin,
+  And under him a good cow-hide,
+    And a marc of four shilling.
+
+  Nowe stand you still, my good lordes all,
+    Under the grene wood spraye;
+  And I will wend to yonder fellowe,
+    To weet what he will saye.
+
+  God speede, God speede thee, said our king.
+    Thou art welcome, Sir, sayd hee.
+  "The readyest waye to Drayton Basset
+    I praye thee to shew to mee."
+
+  "To Drayton Basset woldst thou goe,
+    Fro the place where thou dost stand?
+  The next payre of gallowes thou comest unto,
+    Turne in upon thy right hand."
+
+  That is an unreadye waye, sayd our king,
+    Thou doest but jest, I see;
+  Nowe shewe me out the nearest waye,
+    And I pray thee wend with mee.
+
+  Away with a vengeance! quoth the tanner:
+    I hold thee out of thy witt:
+  All daye have I rydden on Brocke my mare,
+    And I am fasting yett.
+
+  "Go with me downe to Drayton Basset,
+    No daynties we will spare;
+  All daye shalt thou eate and drinke of the best,
+    And I will paye thy fare."
+
+  Gramercye for nothing, the tanner replyde,
+    Thou payest no fare of mine:
+  I trowe I've more nobles in my purse,
+    Than thou hast pence in thine.
+
+  God give thee joy of them, sayd the king,
+    And send them well to priefe.
+  The tanner wolde faine have beene away,
+    For he weende he had beene a thiefe.
+
+  What art thou, hee sayde, thou fine fellowe,
+    Of thee I am in great feare,
+  For the clothes, thou wearest upon thy back,
+    Might beseeme a lord to weare.
+
+  I never stole them, quoth our king,
+    I tell you, Sir, by the roode.
+  "Then thou playest, as many an unthrift doth,
+    And standest in midds of thy goode."
+
+  What tydinges heare you, sayd the kynge,
+    As you ryde farre and neare?
+  "I heare no tydinges, Sir, by the masse,
+    But that cowe-hides are deare."
+
+  "Cow-hides! cow-hides! what things are those?
+     I marvell what they bee?"
+  What, art thou a foole? the tanner reply'd;
+    I carry one under mee.
+
+  What craftsman art thou, said the king,
+    I pray thee tell me trowe.
+  "I am a barker, Sir, by my trade;
+    Nowe tell me what art thou?"
+
+  I am a poor courtier, Sir, quoth he,
+    That am forth of service worne;
+  And faine I wolde thy prentise bee,
+    Thy cunninge for to learne.
+
+  Marrye heaven forfend, the tanner replyde,
+    That thou my prentise were:
+  Thou woldst spend more good than I shold winne
+    By fortye shilling a yere.
+
+  Yet one thinge wolde I, sayd our king,
+    If thou wilt not seeme strange:
+  Thoughe my horse be better than thy mare,
+    Yet with thee I fain wold change.
+
+  "Why if with me thou faine wilt change,
+    As change full well maye wee,
+  By the faith of my bodye, thou proude fellowe
+    I will have some boot of thee."
+
+  That were against reason, sayd the king,
+    I sweare, so mote I thee:
+  My horse is better than thy mare,
+    And that thou well mayst see.
+
+  "Yea, Sir, but Brocke is gentle and mild,
+    And softly she will fare:
+  Thy horse is unrulye and wild, I wiss;
+    Aye skipping here and theare."
+
+  What boote wilt thou have? our king reply'd;
+    Now tell me in this stound.
+  "Noe pence, nor halfpence, by my faye,
+    But a noble in gold so round.
+
+  "Here's twentye groates of white moneye,
+    Sith thou will have it of mee."
+  I would have sworne now, quoth the tanner,
+    Thou hadst not had one pennie.
+
+  But since we two have made a change,
+    A change we must abide,
+  Although thou hast gotten Brocke my mare,
+    Thou gettest not my cowe-hide.
+
+  I will not have it, sayd the kynge,
+    I sweare, so mought I thee;
+  Thy foule cowe-hide I wolde not beare,
+    If thou woldst give it to mee.
+
+  The tanner hee tooke his good cowe-hide,
+    That of the cow was bilt;
+  And threwe it upon the king's sadelle,
+    That was soe fayrelye gilte.
+  "Now help me up, thou fine fellowe,
+    'Tis time that I were gone:
+  When I come home to Gyllian my wife,
+    Sheel say I am a gentilmon."
+
+  The king he tooke him up by the legge;
+    The tanner a f----- lett fall.
+  Nowe marrye, good fellowe, sayd the king,
+    Thy courtesye is but small.
+
+  When the tanner he was in the kinges sadelle,
+    And his foote in the stirrup was;
+  He marvelled greatlye in his minde,
+    Whether it were golde or brass.
+
+  But when the steede saw the cows taile wagge,
+    And eke the blacke cowe-horne;
+  He stamped, and stared, and awaye he ranne,
+    As the devill had him borne.
+
+  The tanner he pulld, the tanner he sweat,
+    And held by the pummil fast:
+  At length the tanner came tumbling downe;
+    His necke he had well-nye brast.
+
+  Take thy horse again with a vengeance, he sayd,
+    With mee he shall not byde.
+  "My horse wolde have borne thee well enoughe,
+    But he knewe not of thy cowe-hide.
+
+  Yet if againe thou faine woldst change,
+    As change full well may wee,
+  By the faith of my bodye, thou jolly tanner,
+    I will have some boote of thee."
+
+  What boote wilt thou have? the tanner replyd,
+    Nowe tell me in this stounde.
+  "Noe pence nor halfpence, Sir, by my faye,
+    But I will have twentye pound."
+
+  "Here's twentye groates out of my purse;
+    And twentye I have of thine:
+  And I have one more, which we will spend
+    Together at the wine."
+
+  The king set a bugle home to his mouthe,
+    And blewe both loude and shrille:
+  And soone came lords, and soone came knights,
+    Fast ryding over the hille.
+
+  Nowe, out alas! the tanner he cryde,
+    That ever I sawe this daye!
+  Thou art a strong thiefe, yon come thy fellowes
+    Will beare my cowe-hide away.
+
+  They are no thieves, the king replyde,
+    I sweare, soe mote I thee:
+  But they are the lords of the north countrey,
+    Here come to hunt with mee.
+
+  And soone before our king they came,
+    And knelt downe on the grounde:
+  Then might the tanner have beene awaye,
+    He had lever than twentye pounde.
+
+  A coller, a coller, here: sayd the king,
+    A coller he loud gan crye:
+  Then woulde he lever than twentye pound,
+    He had not beene so nighe.
+
+  A coller, a coller, the tanner he sayd,
+    I trowe it will breed sorrowe:
+  After a coller cometh a halter,
+    I trow I shall be hang'd to-morrowe.
+
+  Be not afraid, tanner, said our king;
+    I tell thee, so mought I thee,
+  Lo here I make thee the best esquire
+    That is in the North countrie.
+
+  For Plumpton-parke I will give thee,
+    With tenements faire beside:
+  'Tis worth three hundred markes by the yeare,
+    To maintaine thy good cowe-hide.
+
+  Gramercye, my liege, the tanner replyde,
+    For the favour thou hast me showne;
+  If ever thou comest to merry Tamworth,
+    Neates leather shall clout thy shoen.
+
+
+[Illustration: King Edward IV tailpiece]
+
+
+
+
+SIR PATRICK SPENS
+
+[Illustration: Sir Patrick Spens headpiece]
+
+
+  The king sits in Dumferling toune,
+    Drinking the blude-reid wine:
+  O quhar will I get guid sailor,
+    To sail this schip of mine.
+
+  Up and spak an eldern knicht,
+    Sat at the kings richt kne:
+  Sir Patrick Spens is the best sailor,
+    That sails upon the se.
+
+  The king has written a braid letter,
+    And signd it wi' his hand;
+  And sent it to Sir Patrick Spens,
+    Was walking on the sand.
+
+  The first line that Sir Patrick red,
+    A loud lauch lauched he:
+  The next line that Sir Patrick red,
+    The teir blinded his ee.
+
+  O quha is this has don this deid,
+    This ill deid don to me;
+  To send me out this time o' the zeir,
+    To sail upon the se.
+
+  Mak hast, mak haste, my mirry men all,
+    Our guid schip sails the morne,
+  O say na sae, my master deir,
+    For I feir a deadlie storme.
+
+  Late late yestreen I saw the new moone
+    Wi' the auld moone in hir arme;
+  And I feir, I feir, my deir master,
+    That we will com to harme.
+
+  O our Scots nobles wer richt laith
+    To weet their cork-heild schoone;
+  Bot lang owre a' the play wer playd,
+    Thair hats they swam aboone.
+
+  O lang, lang, may thair ladies sit
+    Wi' thair fans into their hand,
+  Or eir they se Sir Patrick Spens
+    Cum sailing to the land.
+
+  O lang, lang, may the ladies stand
+    Wi' thair gold kems in their hair,
+  Waiting for thair ain deir lords,
+    For they'll se thame na mair.
+
+  Have owre, have owre to Aberdour,
+    It's fiftie fadom deip:
+  And thair lies guid Sir Patrick Spens,
+    Wi' the Scots lords at his feit.
+
+[Illustration: Sir Patrick Spens tailpiece]
+
+
+
+THE EARL OF MAR'S DAUGHTER
+
+
+[Illustration: The Earl of Mar's Daughter headpiece]
+
+
+[Illustration: The Earl of Mar's Daughter]
+
+
+  It was intill a pleasant time,
+    Upon a simmer's day,
+  The noble Earl of Mar's daughter
+  Went forth to sport and play.
+
+  As thus she did amuse hersell,
+    Below a green aik tree,
+  There she saw a sprightly doo
+    Set on a tower sae hie.
+
+  "O cow-me-doo, my love sae true,
+    If ye'll come down to me,
+  Ye 'se hae a cage o guid red gowd
+    Instead o simple tree:
+
+  "I'll put growd hingers roun your cage,
+    And siller roun your wa;
+  I'll gar ye shine as fair a bird
+    As ony o them a'."
+
+  But she hadnae these words well spoke,
+    Nor yet these words well said,
+  Till Cow-me-doo flew frae the tower
+    And lighted on her head.
+
+  Then she has brought this pretty bird
+    Hame to her bowers and ba,
+  And made him shine as fair a bird
+    As ony o them a'.
+
+  When day was gane, and night was come,
+    About the evening tide,
+  This lady spied a sprightly youth
+    Stand straight up by her side.
+
+  "From whence came ye, young man?" she said;
+    "That does surprise me sair;
+  My door was bolted right secure,
+    What way hae ye come here?"
+
+  "O had your tongue, ye lady fair,
+    Lat a' your folly be;
+  Mind ye not on your turtle-doo
+    Last day ye brought wi thee?"
+
+  "O tell me mair, young man," she said,
+    "This does surprise me now;
+  What country hae ye come frae?
+    What pedigree are you?"
+
+  "My mither lives on foreign isles,
+    She has nae mair but me;
+  She is a queen o wealth and state,
+    And birth and high degree.
+
+  "Likewise well skilld in magic spells,
+    As ye may plainly see,
+  And she transformd me to yon shape,
+    To charm such maids as thee.
+
+  "I am a doo the live-lang day,
+    A sprightly youth at night;
+  This aye gars me appear mair fair
+    In a fair maiden's sight.
+
+  "And it was but this verra day
+    That I came ower the sea;
+  Your lovely face did me enchant;
+    I'll live and dee wi thee."
+
+  "O Cow-me-doo, my luve sae true,
+    Nae mair frae me ye 'se gae;
+  That's never my intent, my luve,
+    As ye said, it shall be sae."
+
+  "O Cow-me-doo, my luve sae true,
+    It's time to gae to bed;"
+  "Wi a' my heart, my dear marrow,
+    It's be as ye hae said."
+
+  Then he has staid in bower wi her
+    For sax lang years and ane,
+  Till sax young sons to him she bare,
+    And the seventh she's brought hame.
+
+  But aye as ever a child was born
+    He carried them away,
+  And brought them to his mither's care,
+    As fast as he coud fly.
+
+  Thus he has staid in bower wi her
+    For twenty years and three;
+  There came a lord o high renown
+    To court this fair ladie.
+
+  But still his proffer she refused,
+    And a' his presents too;
+  Says, I'm content to live alane
+    Wi my bird, Cow-me-doo.
+
+  Her father sware a solemn oath
+    Amang the nobles all,
+  "The morn, or ere I eat or drink,
+    This bird I will gar kill."
+
+  The bird was sitting in his cage,
+    And heard what they did say;
+  And when he found they were dismist,
+    Says, Wae's me for this day!
+
+  "Before that I do langer stay,
+    And thus to be forlorn,
+  I'll gang unto my mither's bower,
+    Where I was bred and born."
+
+  Then Cow-me-doo took flight and flew
+    Beyond the raging sea,
+  And lighted near his mither's castle,
+    On a tower o gowd sae hie.
+
+  As his mither was wauking out,
+    To see what she coud see,
+  And there she saw her little son,
+    Set on the tower sae hie.
+
+  "Get dancers here to dance," she said,
+    "And minstrells for to play;
+  For here's my young son, Florentine,
+    Come here wi me to stay."
+
+  "Get nae dancers to dance, mither,
+    Nor minstrells for to play,
+  For the mither o my seven sons,
+    The morn's her wedding-day."
+
+  "O tell me, tell me, Florentine,
+    Tell me, and tell me true,
+  Tell me this day without a flaw,
+    What I will do for you."
+
+  "Instead of dancers to dance, mither,
+    Or minstrells for to play,
+  Turn four-and-twenty wall-wight men
+    Like storks in feathers gray;
+
+  "My seven sons in seven swans,
+    Aboon their heads to flee;
+  And I mysell a gay gos-hawk,
+    A bird o high degree."
+
+  Then sichin said the queen hersell,
+    "That thing's too high for me;"
+  But she applied to an auld woman,
+    Who had mair skill than she.
+
+  Instead o dancers to dance a dance,
+    Or minstrells for to play,
+  Four-and-twenty wall-wight men
+    Turnd birds o feathers gray;
+
+  Her seven sons in seven swans,
+    Aboon their heads to flee;
+  And he himsell a gay gos-hawk,
+    A bird o high degree.
+
+  This flock o birds took flight and flew
+    Beyond the raging sea,
+  And landed near the Earl Mar's castle,
+    Took shelter in every tree.
+
+  They were a flock o pretty birds,
+    Right comely to be seen;
+  The people viewed them wi surprise,
+    As they dancd on the green.
+
+  These birds ascended frae the tree
+    And lighted on the ha,
+  And at the last wi force did flee
+    Amang the nobles a'.
+
+  The storks there seized some o the men,
+    They coud neither fight nor flee;
+  The swans they bound the bride's best man
+    Below a green aik tree.
+
+  They lighted next on maidens fair,
+    Then on the bride's own head,
+  And wi the twinkling o an ee
+    The bride and them were fled.
+
+  There's ancient men at weddings been
+    For sixty years or more,
+  But sic a curious wedding-day
+    They never saw before.
+
+  For naething coud the companie do.
+    Nor naething coud they say
+  But they saw a flock o pretty birds
+    That took their bride away.
+
+  When that Earl Mar he came to know
+    Where his dochter did stay,
+  He signd a bond o unity,
+    And visits now they pay.
+
+[Illustration: The Earl of Mar's Daughter tailpiece]
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of A Book of Ballads, Volume 3, by Various
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