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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/7533-0.txt b/7533-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..7ffb172 --- /dev/null +++ b/7533-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,2750 @@ +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 stewà rde, + 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 womà n, + 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 palfrà ye + 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 Aldingà r, + While I am a man alive. + A priest, a priest, sayes Aldingà r, + 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 stewà rde + 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-womà n; + 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 lemmà n. + O bide at hame, now Lord Barnà rd, + 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 womà n, + 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 countrà ye, + 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 palfrà ye: + 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 palfrà ye, + 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 countrà ye: + "Nowe stop, nowe stop, thou false traitòure, + Nor carry that ladye awaye. + + "For she is come of hye lineà ge, + 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 monà nd. + + 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 + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A BOOK OF BALLADS, VOLUME 3 *** + +***** This file should be named 7533-0.txt or 7533-0.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/7/5/3/7533/ + +Produced by David Widger, Juliet Sutherland, Phil McLaury, +Charles Franks and the Online Distributed Proofreading +Team. 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\ No newline at end of file diff --git a/7533-0.zip b/7533-0.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..5340ca8 --- /dev/null +++ b/7533-0.zip diff --git a/7533-h.zip b/7533-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..e901887 --- /dev/null +++ b/7533-h.zip diff --git a/7533-h/7533-h.htm b/7533-h/7533-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..cbc67c2 --- /dev/null +++ b/7533-h/7533-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,2795 @@ +<!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>Â Â Clerk Colvill and his lusty dame<br> +Â Â Â Â Were walking in the garden green;<br> +Â Â The belt around her stately waist<br> +Â Â Â Â Cost Clerk Colvill of pounds fifteen.</p> + +<p>Â Â "O promise me now, Clerk Colvill,<br> +Â Â Â Â Or it will cost ye muckle strife,<br> +Â Â Ride never by the wells of Slane,<br> +Â Â Â Â If ye wad live and brook your life."</p> + +<p>Â Â "Now speak nae mair, my lusty dame,<br> +Â Â Â Â Now speak nae mair of that to me;<br> +Â Â Did I neer see a fair woman,<br> +Â Â Â Â But I wad sin with her body?"</p> + +<p>Â Â He's taen leave o his gay lady,<br> +Â Â Â Â Nought minding what his lady said,<br> +Â Â And he's rode by the wells of Slane,<br> +Â Â Â Â Where washing was a bonny maid.</p> + +<p>Â Â "Wash on, wash on, my bonny maid,<br> +Â Â Â Â That wash sae clean your sark of silk;"<br> +Â Â "And weel fa you, fair gentleman,<br> +Â Â Â Â Your body whiter than the milk."</p> + +<p>Â Â Â Â Â Â * Â Â Â Â Â Â * Â Â Â Â Â Â * Â Â Â Â Â Â * Â Â Â Â Â Â *</p> + +<p>Â Â Then loud, loud cry'd the Clerk Colvill,<br> +Â Â Â Â "O my head it pains me sair;"<br> +Â Â "Then take, then take," the maiden said,<br> +Â Â Â Â "And frae my sark you'll cut a gare."</p> + +<p>Â Â Then she's gied him a little bane-knife,<br> +Â Â Â Â And frae her sark he cut a share;<br> +Â Â She's ty'd it round his whey-white face,<br> +Â Â Â Â But ay his head it aked mair.</p> + +<p>Â Â Then louder cry'd the Clerk Colville,<br> +Â Â Â Â "O sairer, sairer akes my head;"<br> +Â Â "And sairer, sairer ever will,"<br> +Â Â Â Â The maiden crys, "till you be dead."</p> + +<p>Â Â Out then he drew his shining blade,<br> +Â Â Â Â Thinking to stick her where she stood,<br> +Â Â But she was vanished to a fish,<br> +Â Â Â Â And swam far off, a fair mermaid.</p> + +<p>Â Â "O mother, mother, braid my hair;<br> +Â Â Â Â My lusty lady, make my bed;<br> +Â Â O brother, take my sword and spear,<br> +Â Â Â Â 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>Â Â Our king he kept a false stewàrde,<br> +Â Â Â Â Sir Aldingar they him call;<br> +Â Â A falser steward than he was one,<br> +Â Â Â Â Servde not in bower nor hall.</p> + +<p>Â Â He wolde have layne by our comelye queene,<br> +Â Â Â Â Her deere worshippe to betraye:<br> +Â Â Our queene she was a good womàn,<br> +Â Â Â Â And evermore said him naye.</p> + +<p>Â Â Sir Aldingar was wrothe in his mind,<br> +Â Â Â Â With her hee was never content,<br> +Â Â Till traiterous meanes he colde devyse,<br> +Â Â Â Â In a fyer to have her brent.</p> + +<p>Â Â There came a lazar to the kings gate,<br> +Â Â Â Â A lazar both blinde and lame:<br> +Â Â He tooke the lazar upon his backe,<br> +Â Â Â Â Him on the queenes bed has layne.</p> + +<p>Â Â "Lye still, lazar, whereas thou lyest,<br> +Â Â Â Â Looke thou goe not hence away;<br> +Â Â He make thee a whole man and a sound<br> +Â Â Â Â In two howers of the day."</p> + +<p>Â Â Then went him forth Sir Aldingar,<br> +Â Â Â Â And hyed him to our king:<br> +Â Â "If I might have grace, as I have space,<br> +Â Â Â Â Sad tydings I could bring."</p> + +<p>Â Â Say on, say on, Sir Aldingar,<br> +Â Â Â Â Saye on the soothe to mee.<br> +Â Â "Our queene hath chosen a new new love,<br> +Â Â Â Â And shee will have none of thee.</p> + +<p>Â Â "If shee had chosen a right good knight,<br> +Â Â Â Â The lesse had beene her shame;<br> +Â Â But she hath chose her a lazar man,<br> +Â Â Â Â A lazar both blinde and lame."</p> + +<p>Â Â If this be true, thou Aldingar,<br> +Â Â Â Â The tyding thou tellest to me,<br> +Â Â Then will I make thee a rich rich knight,<br> +Â Â Â Â Rich both of golde and fee.</p> + +<p>Â Â But if it be false, Sir Aldingar,<br> +Â Â Â Â As God nowe grant it bee!<br> +Â Â Thy body, I sweare by the holye rood,<br> +Â Â Â Â Shall hang on the gallows tree.</p> + +<p>Â Â He brought our king to the queenes chambèr,<br> +Â Â Â Â And opend to him the dore.<br> +Â Â A lodlye love, King Harry says,<br> +Â Â Â Â For our queene dame Elinore!</p> + +<p>Â Â If thou were a man, as thou art none,<br> +Â Â Â Â Here on my sword thoust dye;<br> +Â Â But a payre of new gallowes shall be built,<br> +Â Â Â Â And there shalt thou hang on hye.</p> + +<p>Â Â Forth then hyed our king, I wysse,<br> +Â Â Â Â And an angry man was hee;<br> +Â Â And soone he found Queen Elinore,<br> +Â Â Â Â That bride so bright of blee.</p> + +<p>Â Â Now God you save, our queene, madame,<br> +Â Â Â Â And Christ you save and see;<br> +Â Â Heere you have chosen a newe newe love,<br> +Â Â Â Â And you will have none of mee.</p> + +<p>Â Â If you had chosen a right good knight,<br> +Â Â Â Â The lesse had been your shame;<br> +Â Â But you have chose you a lazar man,<br> +Â Â Â Â A lazar both blinde and lame.</p> + +<p>Â Â Therfore a fyer there shalt be built,<br> +Â Â Â Â And brent all shalt thou bee.--<br> +Â Â Now out alacke! said our comly queene,<br> +Â Â Â Â Sir Aldingar's false to mee.</p> + +<p>Â Â Now out alacke! sayd our comlye queene,<br> +Â Â Â Â My heart with griefe will brast.<br> +Â Â I had thought swevens had never been true;<br> +Â Â Â Â I have proved them true at last.</p> + +<p>Â Â I dreamt in my sweven on Thursday eve,<br> +Â Â Â Â In my bed whereas I laye.<br> +Â Â I dreamt a grype and a grimlie beast<br> +Â Â Â Â Had carryed my crowne awaye;</p> + +<p>Â Â My gorgett and my kirtle of golde,<br> +Â Â Â Â And all my faire head-geere:<br> +Â Â And he wold worrye me with his tush<br> +Â Â Â Â And to his nest y-beare:</p> + +<p>Â Â Saving there came a little 'gray' hawke,<br> +Â Â Â Â A merlin him they call,<br> +Â Â Which untill the grounde did strike the grype,<br> +Â Â Â Â That dead he downe did fall.</p> + +<p>Â Â Giffe I were a man, as now I am none,<br> +Â Â Â Â A battell wold I prove,<br> +Â Â To fight with that traitor Aldingar,<br> +Â Â Â Â Att him I cast my glove.</p> + +<p>Â Â But seeing Ime able noe battell to make,<br> +Â Â Â Â My liege, grant me a knight<br> +Â Â To fight with that traitor Sir Aldingar,<br> +Â Â Â Â To maintaine me in my right.</p> + +<p>Â Â "Now forty dayes I will give thee<br> +Â Â Â Â To seeke thee a knight therein:<br> +Â Â If thou find not a knight in forty dayes<br> +Â Â Â Â Thy bodye it must brenn."</p> + +<p>Â Â Then shee sent east, and shee sent west,<br> +Â Â Â Â By north and south bedeene:<br> +Â Â But never a champion colde she find,<br> +Â Â Â Â Wolde fight with that knight soe keene.</p> + +<p>Â Â Now twenty dayes were spent and gone,<br> +Â Â Â Â Noe helpe there might be had;<br> +Â Â Many a teare shed our comelye queene<br> +Â Â Â Â And aye her hart was sad.</p> + +<p>Â Â Then came one of the queenes damsèlles,<br> +Â Â Â Â And knelt upon her knee,<br> +Â Â "Cheare up, cheare up, my gracious dame,<br> +Â Â Â Â I trust yet helpe may be:</p> + +<p>Â Â And here I will make mine avowe,<br> +Â Â Â Â And with the same me binde;<br> +Â Â That never will I return to thee,<br> +Â Â Â Â Till I some helpe may finde."</p> + +<p>Â Â Then forth she rode on a faire palfràye<br> +Â Â Â Â Oer hill and dale about:<br> +Â Â But never a champion colde she finde,<br> +Â Â Â Â Wolde fighte with that knight so stout.</p> + +<p>Â Â And nowe the daye drewe on a pace,<br> +Â Â Â Â When our good queene must dye;<br> +Â Â All woe-begone was that faire damsèlle,<br> +Â Â Â Â When she found no helpe was nye.</p> + +<p>Â Â All woe-begone was that faire damsèlle,<br> +Â Â Â Â And the salt teares fell from her eye:<br> +Â Â When lo! as she rode by a rivers side,<br> +Â Â Â Â She met with a tinye boye.</p> + +<p>Â Â A tinye boye she mette, God wot,<br> +Â Â Â Â All clad in mantle of golde;<br> +Â Â He seemed noe more in mans likenèsse,<br> +Â Â Â Â Then a childe of four yeere old.</p> + +<p>Â Â Why grieve you, damselle faire, he sayd,<br> +Â Â Â Â And what doth cause you moane?<br> +Â Â The damsell scant wolde deigne a looke,<br> +Â Â Â Â But fast she pricked on.</p> + +<p>Â Â Yet turne againe, thou faire damsèlle<br> +Â Â Â Â And greete thy queene from mee:<br> +Â Â When bale is att hyest, boote is nyest,<br> +Â Â Â Â Nowe helpe enoughe may bee.</p> + +<p>Â Â Bid her remember what she dreamt<br> +Â Â Â Â In her bedd, wheras shee laye;<br> +Â Â How when the grype and grimly beast<br> +Â Â Â Â Wolde have carried her crowne awaye,</p> + +<p>Â Â Even then there came the little gray hawke,<br> +Â Â Â Â And saved her from his clawes:<br> +Â Â Then bidd the queene be merry at hart,<br> +Â Â Â Â For heaven will fende her cause.</p> + +<p>Â Â Back then rode that faire damsèlle,<br> +Â Â Â Â And her hart it lept for glee:<br> +Â Â And when she told her gracious dame<br> +Â Â Â Â A gladd woman then was shee:</p> + +<p>Â Â But when the appointed day was come,<br> +Â Â Â Â No helpe appeared nye:<br> +Â Â Then woeful, woeful was her hart,<br> +Â Â Â Â And the teares stood in her eye.</p> + +<p>Â Â And nowe a fyer was built of wood;<br> +Â Â Â Â And a stake was made of tree;<br> +Â Â And now Queene Elinor forth was led,<br> +Â Â Â Â A sorrowful sight to see.</p> + +<p>Â Â Three times the herault he waved his hand,<br> +Â Â Â Â And three times spake on hye:<br> +Â Â Giff any good knight will fende this dame,<br> +Â Â Â Â Come forth, or shee must dye.</p> + +<p>Â Â No knight stood forth, no knight there came,<br> +Â Â Â Â No helpe appeared nye:<br> +Â Â And now the fyer was lighted up,<br> +Â Â Â Â Queen Elinor she must dye.</p> + +<p>Â Â And now the fyer was lighted up,<br> +Â Â Â Â As hot as hot might bee;<br> +Â Â When riding upon a little white steed,<br> +Â Â Â Â The tinye boy they see.</p> + +<p>Â Â "Away with that stake, away with those brands,<br> +Â Â Â Â And loose our comelye queene:<br> +Â Â I am come to fight with Sir Aldingar,<br> +Â Â Â Â And prove him a traitor keene."</p> + +<p>Â Â Forthe then stood Sir Aldingar,<br> +Â Â Â Â But when he saw the chylde,<br> +Â Â He laughed, and scoffed, and turned his backe,<br> +Â Â Â Â And weened he had been beguylde.</p> + +<p>Â Â "Now turne, now turne thee, Aldingar,<br> +Â Â Â Â And eyther fighte or flee;<br> +Â Â I trust that I shall avenge the wronge,<br> +Â Â Â Â Thoughe I am so small to see."</p> + +<p>Â Â The boy pulld forth a well good sworde<br> +Â Â Â Â So gilt it dazzled the ee;<br> +Â Â The first stroke stricken at Aldingar,<br> +Â Â Â Â Smote off his leggs by the knee.</p> + +<p>Â Â "Stand up, stand up, thou false traitòr,<br> +Â Â Â Â And fight upon thy feete,<br> +Â Â For and thou thrive, as thou begin'st,<br> +Â Â Â Â Of height wee shall be meete."</p> + +<p>Â Â A priest, a priest, sayes Aldingàr,<br> +Â Â Â Â While I am a man alive.<br> +Â Â A priest, a priest, sayes Aldingàr,<br> +Â Â Â Â Me for to houzle and shrive.</p> + +<p>Â Â I wolde have laine by our comlie queene,<br> +Â Â Â Â Bot shee wolde never consent;<br> +Â Â Then I thought to betraye her unto our kinge<br> +Â Â Â Â In a fyer to have her brent.</p> + +<p>Â Â There came a lazar to the kings gates,<br> +Â Â Â Â A lazar both blind and lame:<br> +Â Â I tooke the lazar upon my backe,<br> +Â Â Â Â And on her bedd had him layne.</p> + +<p>Â Â Then ranne I to our comlye king,<br> +Â Â Â Â These tidings sore to tell.<br> +Â Â But ever alacke! sayes Aldingar,<br> +Â Â Â Â Falsing never doth well.</p> + +<p>Â Â Forgive, forgive me, queene, madame,<br> +Â Â Â Â The short time I must live.<br> +Â Â "Nowe Christ forgive thee, Aldingar,<br> +Â Â Â Â As freely I forgive."</p> + +<p>Â Â Here take thy queene, our king Harryè,<br> +Â Â Â Â And love her as thy life,<br> +Â Â For never had a king in Christentye.<br> +Â Â Â Â A truer and fairer wife.</p> + +<p>Â Â King Henrye ran to claspe his queene,<br> +Â Â Â Â And loosed her full sone:<br> +Â Â Then turned to look for the tinye boye;<br> +Â Â Â Â --The boye was vanisht and gone.</p> + +<p>Â Â But first he had touched the lazar man,<br> +Â Â Â Â And stroakt him with his hand:<br> +Â Â The lazar under the gallowes tree<br> +Â Â Â Â All whole and sounde did stand.</p> + +<p>Â Â The lazar under the gallowes tree<br> +Â Â Â Â Was comelye, straight and tall;<br> +Â Â King Henrye made him his head stewàrde<br> +Â Â Â Â 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>Â Â It fell about the Martinmas,<br> +Â Â Â Â Quhen the wind blew shril and cauld,<br> +Â Â Said Edom o' Gordon to his men,<br> +Â Â Â Â We maun draw till a hauld.</p> + +<p>Â Â And quhat a hauld sall we draw till,<br> +Â Â Â Â My mirry men and me?<br> +Â Â We wul gae to the house o' the Rodes,<br> +Â Â Â Â To see that fair ladie.</p> + +<p>Â Â The lady stude on her castle wa',<br> +Â Â Â Â Beheld baith dale and down:<br> +Â Â There she was ware of a host of men<br> +Â Â Â Â Cum ryding towards the toun.</p> + +<p>Â Â O see ze nat, my mirry men a'?<br> +Â Â Â Â O see za nat quhat I see?<br> +Â Â Methinks I see a host of men:<br> +Â Â Â Â I marveil quha they be.</p> + +<p>Â Â She weend it had been hir luvely lord,<br> +Â Â Â Â As he cam ryding hame;<br> +Â Â It was the traitor Edom o' Gordon,<br> +Â Â Â Â Quha reckt nae sin nor shame.</p> + +<p>Â Â She had nae sooner buskit hirsel,<br> +Â Â Â Â And putten on hir goun,<br> +Â Â But Edom o' Gordon and his men<br> +Â Â Â Â Were round about the toun.</p> + +<p>Â Â They had nae sooner supper sett,<br> +Â Â Â Â Nae sooner said the grace,<br> +Â Â But Edom o' Gordon and his men<br> +Â Â Â Â Were light about the place.</p> + +<p>Â Â The lady ran up to hir towir head,<br> +Â Â Â Â Sa fast as she could hie,<br> +Â Â To see if by hir fair speechès<br> +Â Â Â Â She could wi' him agree.</p> + +<p>Â Â But quhan he see this lady saif,<br> +Â Â Â Â And hir yates all locked fast,<br> +Â Â He fell into a rage of wrath,<br> +Â Â Â Â And his look was all aghast.</p> + +<p>Â Â Cum doun to me, ze lady gay,<br> +Â Â Â Â Cum doun, cum doun to me:<br> +Â Â This night sall ye lig within mine armes,<br> +Â Â Â Â To-morrow my bride sall be.</p> + +<p>Â Â I winnae cum doun ze fals Gordòn,<br> +Â Â Â Â I winnae cum doun to thee;<br> +Â Â I winna forsake my ain dear lord,<br> +Â Â Â Â That is sae far frae me.</p> + +<p>Â Â Give owre zour house, ze lady fair,<br> +Â Â Â Â Give owre zour house to me,<br> +Â Â Or I sall brenn yoursel therein,<br> +Â Â Â Â Bot and zour babies three.</p> + +<p>Â Â I winnae give owre, ze false Gordòn,<br> +Â Â Â Â To nae sik traitor as zee;<br> +Â Â And if ze brenn my ain dear babes,<br> +Â Â Â Â My lord sall make ze drie.</p> + +<p>Â Â But reach my pistoll, Glaud my man,<br> +Â Â Â Â And charge ze weil my gun:<br> +Â Â For, but an I pierce that bluidy butcher,<br> +Â Â Â Â My babes we been undone.</p> + +<p>Â Â She stude upon hir castle wa',<br> +Â Â Â Â And let twa bullets flee:<br> +Â Â She mist that bluidy butchers hart,<br> +Â Â Â Â And only raz'd his knee.</p> + +<p>Â Â Set fire to the house, quo' fals Gordòn,<br> +Â Â Â Â All wood wi' dule and ire:<br> +Â Â Fals lady, ze sall rue this deid,<br> +Â Â Â Â As ze bren in the fire.</p> + +<p>Â Â Wae worth, wae worth ze, Jock my man,<br> +Â Â Â Â I paid ze weil zour fee;<br> +Â Â Quhy pu' ze out the ground-wa' stane,<br> +Â Â Â Â Lets in the reek to me?</p> + +<p>Â Â And ein wae worth ze, Jock my man,<br> +Â Â Â Â I paid ze weil zour hire;<br> +Â Â Quhy pu' ze out the ground-wa' stane,<br> +Â Â Â Â To me lets in the fire?</p> + +<p>Â Â Ze paid me weil my hire, lady;<br> +Â Â Â Â Ze paid me weil my fee:<br> +Â Â But now I'm Edom o' Gordons man,<br> +Â Â Â Â Maun either doe or die.</p> + +<p>Â Â O than bespaik hir little son,<br> +Â Â Â Â Sate on the nurses knee:<br> +Â Â Sayes, Mither deare, gi' owre this house,<br> +Â Â Â Â For the reek it smithers me.</p> + +<p>Â Â I wad gie a' my gowd, my childe,<br> +Â Â Â Â Say wald I a' my fee,<br> +Â Â For ane blast o' the western wind,<br> +Â Â Â Â To blaw the reek frae thee.</p> + +<p>Â Â O then bespaik hir dochter dear,<br> +Â Â Â Â She was baith jimp and sma;<br> +Â Â O row me in a pair o' sheits,<br> +Â Â Â Â And tow me owre the wa.</p> + +<p>Â Â They rowd hir in a pair o' sheits,<br> +Â Â Â Â And towd hir owre the wa:<br> +Â Â But on the point of Gordons spear<br> +Â Â Â Â She gat a deadly fa.</p> + +<p>Â Â O bonnie bonnie was hir mouth,<br> +Â Â Â Â And cherry were her cheiks,<br> +Â Â And clear clear was hir zellow hair,<br> +Â Â Â Â Whereon the reid bluid dreips.</p> + +<p>Â Â Then wi' his spear he turnd hir owre,<br> +Â Â Â Â O gin hir face was wan!<br> +Â Â He sayd, Ze are the first that eir<br> +Â Â Â Â I wisht alive again.</p> + +<p>Â Â He turnd hir owre and owre againe,<br> +Â Â Â Â O gin hir skin was whyte!<br> +Â Â I might ha spared that bonnie face<br> +Â Â Â Â To hae been sum mans delyte.</p> + +<p>Â Â Busk and boun, my merry men a',<br> +Â Â Â Â For ill dooms I doe guess;<br> +Â Â I cannae luik in that bonnie face,<br> +Â Â Â Â As it lyes on the grass.</p> + +<p>Â Â Thame, luiks to freits, my master deir,<br> +Â Â Â Â Then freits wil follow thame:<br> +Â Â Let neir be said brave Edom o' Gordon<br> +Â Â Â Â Was daunted by a dame.</p> + +<p>Â Â But quhen the ladye see the fire<br> +Â Â Â Â Cum flaming owre hir head,<br> +Â Â She wept and kist her children twain,<br> +Â Â Â Â Sayd, Bairns, we been but dead.</p> + +<p>Â Â The Gordon then his bougill blew,<br> +Â Â Â Â And said, Awa', awa';<br> +Â Â This house o' the Rodes is a' in flame,<br> +Â Â Â Â I hauld it time to ga'.</p> + +<p>Â Â O then bespyed hir ain dear lord,<br> +Â Â Â Â As hee cam owr the lee;<br> +Â Â He sied his castle all in blaze +Â Â Â Â Sa far as he could see.</p> + +<p>Â Â Then sair, O sair his mind misgave,<br> +Â Â Â Â And all his hart was wae;<br> +Â Â Put on, put on, my wighty men,<br> +Â Â Â Â So fast as ze can gae.</p> + +<p>Â Â Put on, put on, my wighty men,<br> +Â Â Â Â Sa fast as ze can drie;<br> +Â Â For he that is hindmost of the thrang<br> +Â Â Â Â Sall neir get guid o' me.</p> + +<p>Â Â Than sum they rade, and sum they rin,<br> +Â Â Â Â Fou fast out-owr the bent;<br> +Â Â But eir the foremost could get up,<br> +Â Â Â Â Baith lady and babes were brent.</p> + +<p>Â Â He wrang his hands, he rent his hair,<br> +Â Â Â Â And wept in teenefu' muid:<br> +Â Â O traitors, for this cruel deid<br> +Â Â Â Â Ze sall weep tiers o' bluid.</p> + +<p>Â Â And after the Gordon he is gane,<br> +Â Â Â Â Sa fast as he might drie.<br> +Â Â And soon i' the Gordon's foul hartis bluid<br> +Â Â Â Â 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>Â Â God prosper long our noble king,<br> +Â Â Â Â Our lives and safetyes all;<br> +Â Â A woefull hunting once there did<br> +Â Â Â Â In Chevy-Chace befall;</p> + +<p>Â Â To drive the deere with hound and horne,<br> +Â Â Â Â Erle Percy took his way,<br> +Â Â The child may rue that is unborne,<br> +Â Â Â Â The hunting of that day.</p> + +<p>Â Â The stout Erle of Northumberland<br> +Â Â Â Â A vow to God did make,<br> +Â Â His pleasure in the Scottish woods<br> +Â Â Â Â Three summers days to take;</p> + +<p>Â Â The cheefest harts in Chevy-chace<br> +Â Â Â Â To kill and beare away.<br> +Â Â These tydings to Erle Douglas came,<br> +Â Â Â Â In Scotland where he lay:</p> + +<p>Â Â Who sent Erle Percy present word,<br> +Â Â Â Â He wold prevent his sport.<br> +Â Â The English erle, not fearing that,<br> +Â Â Â Â Did to the woods resort</p> + +<p>Â Â With fifteen hundred bow-men bold;<br> +Â Â Â Â All chosen men of might,<br> +Â Â Who knew full well in time of neede<br> +Â Â Â Â To ayme their shafts arright.</p> + +<p>Â Â The galland greyhounds swiftly ran,<br> +Â Â Â Â To chase the fallow deere:<br> +Â Â On munday they began to hunt,<br> +Â Â Â Â Ere day-light did appeare;</p> + +<p>Â Â And long before high noone they had<br> +Â Â Â Â An hundred fat buckes slaine;<br> +Â Â Then having dined, the drovyers went<br> +Â Â Â Â To rouze the deare againe.</p> + +<p>Â Â The bow-men mustered on the hills,<br> +Â Â Â Â Well able to endure;<br> +Â Â Theire backsides all, with speciall care,<br> +Â Â Â Â That day were guarded sure.</p> + +<p>Â Â The hounds ran swiftly through the woods,<br> +Â Â Â Â The nimble deere to take,<br> +Â Â That with their cryes the hills and dales<br> +Â Â Â Â An eccho shrill did make.</p> + +<p>Â Â Lord Percy to the quarry went,<br> +Â Â Â Â To view the slaughter'd deere;<br> +Â Â Quoth he, Erle Douglas promised<br> +Â Â Â Â This day to meet me heere:</p> + +<p>Â Â But if I thought he wold not come,<br> +Â Â Â Â Noe longer wold I stay.<br> +Â Â With that, a brave younge gentleman<br> +Â Â Â Â Thus to the Erle did say:</p> + +<p>Â Â Loe, yonder doth Erle Douglas come,<br> +Â Â Â Â His men in armour bright;<br> +Â Â Full twenty hundred Scottish speres<br> +Â Â Â Â All marching in our sight;</p> + +<p>Â Â All men of pleasant Tivydale,<br> +Â Â Â Â Fast by the river Tweede:<br> +Â Â O cease your sports, Erle Percy said,<br> +Â Â Â Â And take your bowes with speede:</p> + +<p>Â Â And now with me, my countrymen,<br> +Â Â Â Â Your courage forth advance;<br> +Â Â For there was never champion yett,<br> +Â Â Â Â In Scotland nor in France,</p> + +<p>Â Â That ever did on horsebacke come,<br> +Â Â Â Â But if my hap it were,<br> +Â Â I durst encounter man for man,<br> +Â Â Â Â With him to break a spere.</p> + +<p>Â Â Erle Douglas on his milke-white steede,<br> +Â Â Â Â Most like a baron bolde,<br> +Â Â Rode foremost of his company,<br> +Â Â Â Â Whose armour shone like gold.</p> + +<p>Â Â Show me, sayd hee, whose men you bee,<br> +Â Â Â Â That hunt soe boldly heere,<br> +Â Â That, without my consent, doe chase<br> +Â Â Â Â And kill my fallow-deere.</p> + +<p>Â Â The first man that did answer make<br> +Â Â Â Â Was noble Percy hee;<br> +Â Â Who sayd, Wee list not to declare,<br> +Â Â Â Â Nor shew whose men wee bee:<br></p> + +<p>Â Â Yet wee will spend our deerest blood,<br> +Â Â Â Â Thy cheefest harts to slay.<br> +Â Â Then Douglas swore a solempne oathe,<br> +Â Â Â Â And thus in rage did say,</p> + +<p>Â Â Ere thus I will out-braved bee,<br> +Â Â Â Â One of us two shall dye:<br> +Â Â I know thee well, an erle thou art;<br> +Â Â Â Â Lord Percy, soe am I.</p> + +<p>Â Â But trust me, Percy, pittye it were,<br> +Â Â Â Â And great offence to kill<br> +Â Â Any of these our guiltlesse men,<br> +Â Â Â Â For they have done no ill.</p> + +<p>Â Â Let thou and I the battell trye,<br> +Â Â Â Â And set our men aside.<br> +Â Â Accurst bee he, Erle Percy sayd,<br> +Â Â Â Â By whome this is denyed.</p> + +<p>Â Â Then stept a gallant squier forth,<br> +Â Â Â Â Witherington was his name,<br> +Â Â Who said, I wold not have it told<br> +Â Â Â Â To Henry our king for shame,</p> + +<p>Â Â That ere my captaine fought on foote,<br> +Â Â Â Â And I stood looking on.<br> +Â Â You be two erles, sayd Witherington,<br> +Â Â Â Â And I a squier alone:</p> + +<p>Â Â He doe the best that doe I may,<br> +Â Â Â Â While I have power to stand:<br> +Â Â While I have power to weeld my sword<br> +Â Â Â Â He fight with hart and hand.</p> + +<p>Â Â Our English archers bent their bowes,<br> +Â Â Â Â Their harts were good and trew;<br> +Â Â Att the first flight of arrowes sent,<br> +Â Â Â Â Full four-score Scots they slew.</p> + +<p>Â Â Yet bides Earl Douglas on the bent,<br> +Â Â Â Â As Chieftain stout and good.<br> +Â Â As valiant Captain, all unmov'd<br> +Â Â Â Â The shock he firmly stood.</p> + +<p>Â Â His host he parted had in three,<br> +Â Â Â Â As Leader ware and try'd,<br> +Â Â And soon his spearmen on their foes<br> +Â Â Â Â Bare down on every side.</p> + +<p>Â Â To drive the deere with hound and horne,<br> +Â Â Â Â Douglas bade on the bent<br> +Â Â Two captaines moved with mickle might<br> +Â Â Â Â Their speres to shivers went.</p> + +<p>Â Â Throughout the English archery<br> +Â Â Â Â They dealt full many a wound:<br> +Â Â But still our valiant Englishmen<br> +Â Â Â Â All firmly kept their ground:</p> + +<p>Â Â And throwing strait their bows away,<br> +Â Â Â Â They grasp'd their swords so bright:<br> +Â Â And now sharp blows, a heavy shower,<br> +Â Â Â Â On shields and helmets light.</p> + +<p>Â Â They closed full fast on every side,<br> +Â Â Â Â Noe slackness there was found:<br> +Â Â And many a gallant gentleman<br> +Â Â Â Â Lay gasping on the ground.</p> + +<p>Â Â O Christ! it was a griefe to see;<br> +Â Â Â Â And likewise for to heare,<br> +Â Â The cries of men lying in their gore,<br> +Â Â Â Â And scattered here and there.</p> + +<p>Â Â At last these two stout erles did meet,<br> +Â Â Â Â Like captaines of great might:<br> +Â Â Like lyons wood, they layd on lode,<br> +Â Â Â Â And made a cruell fight:</p> + +<p>Â Â They fought untill they both did sweat,<br> +Â Â Â Â With swords of tempered steele;<br> +Â Â Untill the blood, like drops of rain,<br> +Â Â Â Â They tricklin downe did feele.</p> + +<p>Â Â Yeeld thee, Lord Percy, Douglas sayd<br> +Â Â Â Â In faith I will thee bringe,<br> +Â Â Where thou shalt high advanced bee<br> +Â Â Â Â By James our Scottish king:</p> + +<p>Â Â Thy ransome I will freely give,<br> +Â Â Â Â And this report of thee,<br> +Â Â Thou art the most couragious knight,<br> +Â Â Â Â That ever I did see.</p> + +<p>Â Â Noe, Douglas, quoth Erle Percy then,<br> +Â Â Â Â Thy proffer I doe scorne;<br> +Â Â I will not yeelde to any Scott,<br> +Â Â Â Â That ever yett was borne.</p> + +<p>Â Â With that, there came an arrow keene<br> +Â Â Â Â Out of an English bow,<br> +Â Â Which struck Erle Douglas to the heart,<br> +Â Â Â Â A deepe and deadlye blow:</p> + +<p>Â Â Who never spake more words than these,<br> +Â Â Â Â Fight on, my merry men all;<br> +Â Â For why, my life is at an end;<br> +Â Â Â Â Lord Percy sees my fall.</p> + +<p>Â Â Then leaving liffe, Erie Percy tooke<br> +Â Â Â Â The dead man by the hand;<br> +Â Â And said, Erle Douglas, for thy life<br> +Â Â Â Â Wold I had lost my land.</p> + +<p>Â Â O Christ! my verry hart doth bleed<br> +Â Â Â Â With sorrow for thy sake;<br> +Â Â For sure, a more redoubted knight<br> +Â Â Â Â Mischance cold never take.</p> + +<p>Â Â A knight amongst the Scotts there was<br> +Â Â Â Â Which saw Erle Douglas dye,<br> +Â Â Who streight in wrath did vow revenge<br> +Â Â Â Â Upon the Lord Percye:</p> + +<p>Â Â Sir Hugh Mountgomery was he call'd,<br> +Â Â Â Â Who, with a spere most bright,<br> +Â Â Well-mounted on a gallant steed,<br> +Â Â Â Â Ran fiercely through the fight;</p> + +<p>Â Â And past the English archers all,<br> +Â Â Â Â Without all dread or feare;<br> +Â Â And through Earl Percyes body then<br> +Â Â Â Â He thrust his hatefull spere;</p> + +<p>Â Â With such a vehement force and might<br> +Â Â Â Â He did his body gore,<br> +Â Â The staff ran through the other side<br> +Â Â Â Â A large cloth-yard and more.</p> + +<p>Â Â So thus did both these nobles dye,<br> +Â Â Â Â Whose courage none could staine:<br> +Â Â An English archer then perceiv'd<br> +Â Â Â Â The noble erle was slaine;</p> + +<p>Â Â He had a bow bent in his hand,<br> +Â Â Â Â Made of a trusty tree;<br> +Â Â An arrow of a cloth-yard long<br> +Â Â Â Â Up to the head drew hee:</p> + +<p>Â Â Against Sir Hugh Mountgomerye,<br> +Â Â Â Â So right the shaft he sett,<br> +Â Â The grey goose-winge that was thereon,<br> +Â Â Â Â In his harts bloode was wette.</p> + +<p>Â Â This fight did last from breake of day,<br> +Â Â Â Â Till setting of the sun;<br> +Â Â For when they rang the evening-bell,<br> +Â Â Â Â The battel scarce was done.</p> + +<p>Â Â With stout Erle Percy there was slaine<br> +Â Â Â Â Sir John of Egerton,<br> +Â Â Sir Robert Ratcliff, and Sir John,<br> +Â Â Â Â Sir James that bold barròn:</p> + +<p>Â Â And with Sir George and stout Sir James,<br> +Â Â Â Â Both knights of good account,<br> +Â Â Good Sir Ralph Raby there was slaine,<br> +Â Â Â Â Whose prowesse did surmount.</p> + +<p>Â Â For Witherington needs must I wayle,<br> +Â Â Â Â As one in doleful dumpes;<br> +Â Â For when his leggs were smitten off,<br> +Â Â Â Â He fought upon his stumpes.</p> + +<p>Â Â And with Erle Douglas, there was slaine<br> +Â Â Â Â Sir Hugh Montgomerye,<br> +Â Â Sir Charles Murray, that from the feeld<br> +Â Â Â Â One foote wold never flee.</p> + +<p>Â Â Sir Charles Murray, of Ratcliff, too,<br> +Â Â Â Â His sisters sonne was hee;<br> +Â Â Sir David Lamb, so well esteem'd,<br> +Â Â Â Â Yet saved cold not bee.</p> + +<p>Â Â And the Lord Maxwell in like case<br> +Â Â Â Â Did with Erle Douglas dye:<br> +Â Â Of twenty hundred Scottish speres,<br> +Â Â Â Â Scarce fifty-five did flye.</p> + +<p>Â Â Of fifteen hundred Englishmen,<br> +Â Â Â Â Went home but fifty-three;<br> +Â Â The rest were slaine in Chevy-Chace,<br> +Â Â Â Â Under the greene woode tree.</p> + +<p>Â Â Next day did many widowes come,<br> +Â Â Â Â Their husbands to bewayle;<br> +Â Â They washt their wounds in brinish teares,<br> +Â Â Â Â But all wold not prevayle.</p> + +<p>Â Â Theyr bodyes, bathed in purple gore,<br> +Â Â Â Â They bare with them away:<br> +Â Â They kist them dead a thousand times,<br> +Â Â Â Â Ere they were cladd in clay.</p> + +<p>Â Â The news was brought to Eddenborrow,<br> +Â Â Â Â Where Scottlands king did raigne,<br> +Â Â That brave Erle Douglas suddenlye<br> +Â Â Â Â Was with an arrow slaine:</p> + +<p>Â Â O heavy newes, King James did say,<br> +Â Â Â Â Scotland may witnesse bee,<br> +Â Â I have not any captaine more<br> +Â Â Â Â Of such account as hee.</p> + +<p>Â Â Like tydings to King Henry came,<br> +Â Â Â Â Within as short a space,<br> +Â Â That Percy of Northumberland<br> +Â Â Â Â Was slaine in Chevy-Chace:</p> + +<p>Â Â Now God be with him, said our king,<br> +Â Â Â Â Sith it will noe better bee;<br> +Â Â I trust I have, within my realme,<br> +Â Â Â Â Five hundred as good as hee:</p> + +<p>Â Â Yett shall not Scotts nor Scotland say,<br> +Â Â Â Â But I will vengeance take:<br> +Â Â I'll be revenged on them all,<br> +Â Â Â Â For brave Erle Percyes sake.</p> + +<p>Â Â This vow full well the king perform'd<br> +Â Â Â Â After, at Humbledowne;<br> +Â Â In one day, fifty knights were slayne,<br> +Â Â Â Â With lords of great renowne:</p> + +<p>Â Â And of the rest, of small acount,<br> +Â Â Â Â Did many thousands dye:<br> +Â Â Thus endeth the hunting of Chevy-Chase,<br> +Â Â Â Â Made by the Erle Percy.</p> + +<p>Â Â God save our king, and bless this land<br> +Â Â Â Â With plenty, joy, and peace;<br> +Â Â And grant henceforth, that foule debate<br> +Â Â Â Â '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>Â Â When Arthur first in court began,<br> +Â Â Â Â And was approved king,<br> +Â Â Â By force of armes great victorys wanne,<br> +Â Â And conquest home did bring,</p> + +<p>Â Â Then into England straight he came<br> +Â Â Â Â With fifty good and able<br> +Â Â Knights, that resorted unto him,<br> +Â Â Â Â And were of his round table:</p> + +<p>Â Â And he had justs and turnaments,<br> +Â Â Â Â Whereto were many prest,<br> +Â Â Wherein some knights did far excell<br> +Â Â Â Â And eke surmount the rest.</p> + +<p>Â Â But one Sir Lancelot du Lake,<br> +Â Â Â Â Who was approved well,<br> +Â Â He for his deeds and feats of armes<br> +Â Â Â Â All others did excell.</p> + +<p>Â Â When he had rested him a while,<br> +Â Â Â Â In play, and game, and sportt,<br> +Â Â He said he wold goe prove himselfe<br> +Â Â Â Â In some adventurous sort.</p> + +<p>Â Â He armed rode in a forrest wide,<br> +Â Â Â Â And met a damsell faire,<br> +Â Â Who told him of adventures great,<br> +Â Â Â Â Whereto he gave great eare.</p> + +<p>Â Â Such wold I find, quoth Lancelott:<br> +Â Â Â Â For that cause came I hither.<br> +Â Â Thou seemest, quoth shee, a knight full good,<br> +Â Â Â Â And I will bring thee thither.</p> + +<p>Â Â Wheras a mighty knight doth dwell,<br> +Â Â Â Â That now is of great fame:<br> +Â Â Therefore tell me what wight thou art,<br> +Â Â Â Â And what may be thy name.</p> + +<p>Â Â "My name is Lancelot du Lake."<br> +Â Â Â Â Quoth she, it likes me than:<br> +Â Â Here dwelles a knight who never was<br> +Â Â Â Â Yet matcht with any man:</p> + +<p>Â Â Who has in prison threescore knights<br> +Â Â Â Â And four, that he did wound;<br> +Â Â Knights of King Arthurs court they be,<br> +Â Â Â Â And of his table round.</p> + +<p>Â Â She brought him to a river side,<br> +Â Â Â Â And also to a tree,<br> +Â Â Whereon a copper bason hung,<br> +Â Â Â Â And many shields to see.</p> + +<p>Â Â He struck soe hard, the bason broke;<br> +Â Â Â Â And Tarquin soon he spyed:<br> +Â Â Who drove a horse before him fast,<br> +Â Â Â Â Whereon a knight lay tyed.</p> + +<p>Â Â Sir knight, then sayd Sir Lancelett,<br> +Â Â Â Â Bring me that horse-load hither,<br> +Â Â And lay him downe, and let him rest;<br> +Â Â Â Â Weel try our force together:</p> + +<p>Â Â For, as I understand, thou hast,<br> +Â Â Â Â So far as thou art able,<br> +Â Â Done great despite and shame unto<br> +Â Â Â Â The knights of the Round Table.</p> + +<p>Â Â If thou be of the Table Round,<br> +Â Â Â Â Quoth Tarquin speedilye,<br> +Â Â Both thee and all thy fellowship<br> +Â Â Â Â I utterly defye.</p> + +<p>Â Â That's over much, quoth Lancelott tho,<br> +Â Â Â Â Defend thee by and by.<br> +Â Â They sett their speares unto their steeds,<br> +Â Â Â Â And eache att other flie.</p> + +<p>Â Â They coucht theire speares (their horses ran,<br> +Â Â Â Â As though there had beene thunder),<br> +Â Â And strucke them each immidst their shields,<br> +Â Â Â Â Wherewith they broke in sunder.</p> + +<p>Â Â Their horsses backes brake under them,<br> +Â Â Â Â The knights were both astound:<br> +Â Â To avoyd their horsses they made haste<br> +Â Â Â Â And light upon the ground.</p> + +<p>Â Â They tooke them to their shields full fast,<br> +Â Â Â Â Their swords they drewe out than,<br> +Â Â With mighty strokes most eagerlye<br> +Â Â Â Â Each at the other ran.</p> + +<p>Â Â They wounded were, and bled full sore,<br> +Â Â Â Â They both for breath did stand,<br> +Â Â And leaning on their swords awhile,<br> +Â Â Â Â Quoth Tarquine, Hold thy hand,</p> + +<p>Â Â And tell to me what I shall aske.<br> +Â Â Â Â Say on, quoth Lancelot tho.<br> +Â Â Thou art, quoth Tarquine, the best knight<br> +Â Â Â Â That ever I did know:</p> + +<p>Â Â And like a knight, that I did hate:<br> +Â Â Â Â Soe that thou be not hee,<br> +Â Â I will deliver all the rest,<br> +Â Â Â Â And eke accord with thee.</p> + +<p>Â Â That is well said, quoth Lancelott;<br> +Â Â Â Â But sith it must be soe,<br> +Â Â What knight is that thou hatest thus<br> +Â Â Â Â I pray thee to me show.</p> + +<p>Â Â His name is Lancelot du Lake,<br> +Â Â Â Â He slew my brother deere;<br> +Â Â Him I suspect of all the rest:<br> +Â Â Â Â I would I had him here.</p> + +<p>Â Â Thy wish thou hast, but yet unknowne,<br> +Â Â Â Â I am Lancelot du Lake,<br> +Â Â Now knight of Arthurs Table Round;<br> +Â Â Â Â King Hauds son of Schuwake;</p> + +<p>Â Â And I desire thee to do thy worst.<br> +Â Â Â Â Ho, ho, quoth Tarquin tho'<br> +Â Â One of us two shall ende our lives<br> +Â Â Â Â Before that we do go.</p> + +<p>Â Â If thou be Lancelot du Lake,<br> +Â Â Â Â Then welcome shalt thou bee:<br> +Â Â Wherfore see thou thyself defend,<br> +Â Â Â Â For now defye I thee.</p> + +<p>Â Â They buckled them together so,<br> +Â Â Â Â Like unto wild boares rashing;<br> +Â Â And with their swords and shields they ran<br> +Â Â Â Â At one another slashing:</p> + +<p>Â Â The ground besprinkled was with blood:<br> +Â Â Â Â Tarquin began to yield;<br> +Â Â For he gave backe for wearinesse,<br> +Â Â Â Â And lowe did beare his shield.</p> + +<p>Â Â This soone Sir Lancelot espyde,<br> +Â Â Â Â He leapt upon him then,<br> +Â Â He pull'd him downe upon his knee,<br> +Â Â Â Â And rushing off his helm,</p> + +<p>Â Â Forthwith he strucke his necke in two,<br> +Â Â Â Â And, when he had soe done,<br> +Â Â From prison threescore knights and four<br> +Â Â Â Â 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>Â Â Gil Morrice was an erles son,<br> +Â Â Â Â Â His name it waxed wide;<br> +Â Â Â Â It was nae for his great riches,<br> +Â Â Nor zet his mickle pride;<br> +Â Â Bot it was for a lady gay,<br> +Â Â Â Â That livd on Carron side.</p> + +<p>Â Â Quhair sail I get a bonny boy,<br> +Â Â Â Â That will win hose and shoen;<br> +Â Â That will gae to Lord Barnards ha',<br> +Â Â Â Â And bid his lady cum?<br> +Â Â And ze maun rin my errand, Willie;<br> +Â Â Â Â And ze may rin wi' pride;<br> +Â Â Quhen other boys gae on their foot<br> +Â Â Â Â On horse-back ze sail ride.</p> + +<p>Â Â O no! Oh no! my master dear!<br> +Â Â Â Â I dare nae for my life;<br> +Â Â I'll no gae to the bauld baròns,<br> +Â Â Â Â For to triest furth his wife.<br> +Â Â My bird Willie, my boy Willie;<br> +Â Â Â Â My dear Willie, he sayd:<br> +Â Â How can ze strive against the stream?<br> +Â Â Â Â For I sall be obeyd.</p> + +<p>Â Â Bot, O my master dear! he cryd,<br> +Â Â Â Â In grene wod ze're zour lain;<br> +Â Â Gi owre sic thochts, I walde ze rede,<br> +Â Â Â Â For fear ze should be tain.<br> +Â Â Haste, haste, I say, gae to the ha',<br> +Â Â Â Â Bid hir cum here wi speid:<br> +Â Â If ze refuse my heigh command,<br> +Â Â Â Â Ill gar zour body bleid.</p> + +<p>Â Â Gae bid hir take this gay mantel,<br> +Â Â Â Â 'Tis a' gowd hot the hem;<br> +Â Â Bid hir cum to the gude grene wode,<br> +Â Â Â Â And bring nane bot hir lain:<br> +Â Â And there it is a silken sarke,<br> +Â Â Â Â Hir ain hand sewd the sleive;<br> +Â Â And bid hir cum to Gill Morice,<br> +Â Â Â Â Speir nae bauld barons leave.</p> + +<p>Â Â Yes, I will gae zour black errand,<br> +Â Â Â Â Though it be to zour cost;<br> +Â Â Sen ze by me will nae be warn'd,<br> +Â Â Â Â In it ze sail find frost.<br> +Â Â The baron he is a man of might,<br> +Â Â Â Â He neir could bide to taunt,<br> +Â Â As ze will see before its nicht,<br> +Â Â Â Â How sma' ze hae to vaunt.</p> + +<p>Â Â And sen I maun zour errand rin<br> +Â Â Â Â Sae sair against my will,<br> +Â Â I'se mak a vow and keip it trow,<br> +Â Â Â Â It sall be done for ill.<br> +Â Â And quhen he came to broken brigue,<br> +Â Â Â Â He bent his bow and swam;<br> +Â Â And quhen he came to grass growing,<br> +Â Â Â Â Set down his feet and ran.</p> + +<p>Â Â And quhen he came to Barnards ha',<br> +Â Â Â Â Would neither chap nor ca':<br> +Â Â Bot set his bent bow to his breist,<br> +Â Â Â Â And lichtly lap the wa'.<br> +Â Â He wauld nae tell the man his errand,<br> +Â Â Â Â Though he stude at the gait;<br> +Â Â Bot straiht into the ha' he cam,<br> +Â Â Â Â Quhair they were set at meit.</p> + +<p>Â Â Hail! hail! my gentle sire and dame!<br> +Â Â Â Â My message winna waite;<br> +Â Â Dame, ze maun to the gude grene wod<br> +Â Â Â Â Before that it be late.<br> +Â Â Ze're bidden tak this gay mantèl,<br> +Â Â Â Â Tis a' gowd bot the hem:<br> +Â Â Zou maun gae to the gude grene wode,<br> +Â Â Â Â Ev'n by your sel alane.</p> + +<p>Â Â And there it is, a silken sarke,<br> +Â Â Â Â Your ain hand sewd the sleive;<br> +Â Â Ze maun gae speik to Gill Morice:<br> +Â Â Â Â Speir nae bauld barons leave.<br> +Â Â The lady stamped wi' hir foot,<br> +Â Â Â Â And winked wi' hir ee;<br> +Â Â Bot a' that she coud say or do,<br> +Â Â Â Â Forbidden he wad nae bee.</p> + +<p>Â Â Its surely to my bow'r-womàn;<br> +Â Â Â Â It neir could be to me.<br> +Â Â I brocht it to Lord Barnards lady;<br> +Â Â Â Â I trow that ze be she.<br> +Â Â Then up and spack the wylie nurse,<br> +Â Â Â Â (The bairn upon hir knee)<br> +Â Â If it be cum frae Gill Morice,<br> +Â Â Â Â It's deir welcum to mee.</p> + +<p>Â Â Ze leid, ze leid, ze filthy nurse,<br> +Â Â Â Â Sae loud I heird zee lee;<br> +Â Â I brocht it to Lord Barnards lady;<br> +Â Â Â Â I trow ze be nae shee.<br> +Â Â Then up and spack the bauld baròn,<br> +Â Â Â Â An angry man was hee;<br> +Â Â He's tain the table wi' his foot,<br> +Â Â Â Â Sae has he wi' his knee;<br> +Â Â Till siller cup and 'mazer' dish<br> +Â Â Â Â In flinders he gard flee.</p> + +<p>Â Â Gae bring a robe of zour clidìng,<br> +Â Â Â Â That hings upon the pin;<br> +Â Â And I'll gae to the gude grene wode,<br> +Â Â Â Â And speik wi' zour lemmàn.<br> +Â Â O bide at hame, now Lord Barnàrd,<br> +Â Â Â Â I warde ze bide at hame;<br> +Â Â Neir wyte a man for violence,<br> +Â Â Â Â That neir wate ze wi' nane.</p> + +<p>Â Â Gil Morice sate in gude grene wode,<br> +Â Â Â Â He whistled and he sang:<br> +Â Â O what mean a' the folk comìng,<br> +Â Â Â Â My mother tarries lang.<br> +Â Â His hair was like the threeds of gold,<br> +Â Â Â Â Drawne frae Minerva's loome:<br> +Â Â His lipps like roses drapping dew,<br> +Â Â Â Â His breath was a' perfume.</p> + +<p>Â Â His brow was like the mountain snae<br> +Â Â Â Â Gilt by the morning beam:<br> +Â Â His cheeks like living roses glow:<br> +Â Â Â Â His een like azure stream.<br> + Â The boy was clad in robes of grene,<br> +Â Â Â Â Sweete as the infant spring:<br> +Â Â And like the mavis on the bush,<br> +Â Â Â Â He gart the vallies ring.</p> + +<p>Â Â The baron came to the grene wode,<br> +Â Â Â Â Wi' mickle dule and care,<br> +Â Â And there he first spied Gill Morice<br> +Â Â Â Â Kameing his zellow hair:<br> +Â Â That sweetly wavd around his face,<br> +Â Â Â Â That face beyond compare:<br> +Â Â He sang sae sweet it might dispel<br> +Â Â Â Â A' rage but fell despair.</p> + +<p>Â Â Nae wonder, nae wonder, Gill Morìce,<br> +Â Â Â Â My lady loed thee weel,<br> +Â Â The fairest part of my bodie<br> +Â Â Â Â Is blacker than thy heel.<br> +Â Â Zet neir the less now, Gill Morìce,<br> +Â Â Â Â For a' thy great beautiè,<br> +Â Â Ze's rew the day ze eir was born;<br> +Â Â Â Â That head sall gae wi' me.</p> + +<p>Â Â Now he has drawn his trusty brand,<br> +Â Â Â Â And slaited on the strae;<br> +Â Â And thro' Gill Morice' fair body<br> +Â Â Â Â He's gar cauld iron gae.<br> +Â Â And he has tain Gill Morice's head<br> +Â Â Â Â And set it on a speir;<br> +Â Â The meanest man in a' his train<br> +Â Â Â Â Has gotten that head to bear.</p> + +<p>Â Â And he has tain Gill Morice up,<br> +Â Â Â Â Laid him across his steid,<br> +Â Â And brocht him to his painted bowr,<br> +Â Â Â Â And laid him on a bed.<br> +Â Â The lady sat on castil wa',<br> +Â Â Â Â Beheld baith dale and doun;<br> +Â Â And there she saw Gill Morice' head<br> +Â Â Â Â Cum trailing to the toun.</p> + +<p>Â Â Far better I loe that bluidy head,<br> +Â Â Â Â Both and that zellow hair,<br> +Â Â Than Lord Barnard, and a' his lands,<br> +Â Â Â Â As they lig here and thair.<br> +Â Â And she has tain her Gill Morice,<br> +Â Â Â Â And kissd baith mouth and chin:<br> +Â Â I was once as fow of Gill Morice,<br> +Â Â Â Â As the hip is o' the stean.</p> + +<p>Â Â I got ze in my father's house,<br> +Â Â Â Â Wi' mickle sin and shame;<br> +Â Â I brocht thee up in gude grene wode,<br> +Â Â Â Â Under the heavy rain.<br> +Â Â Oft have I by thy cradle sitten,<br> +Â Â Â Â And fondly seen thee sleip;<br> +Â Â But now I gae about thy grave,<br> +Â Â Â Â The saut tears for to weip.</p> + +<p>Â Â And syne she kissd his bluidy cheik,<br> +Â Â Â Â And syne his bluidy chin:<br> +Â Â O better I loe my Gill Morice<br> +Â Â Â Â Than a' my kith and kin!<br> +Â Â Away, away, ze ill womàn,<br> +Â Â Â Â And an il deith mait ze dee:<br> +Â Â Gin I had kend he'd bin zour son,<br> +Â Â Â Â He'd neir bin slain for mee.</p> + +<p>Â Â Obraid me not, my Lord Barnard!<br> +Â Â Â Â Obraid me not for shame!<br> +Â Â Wi' that saim speir O pierce my heart!<br> +Â Â Â Â And put me out o' pain.<br> +Â Â Since nothing bot Gill Morice head<br> +Â Â Â Â Thy jelous rage could quell,<br> +Â Â Let that saim hand now tak hir life,<br> +Â Â Â Â That neir to thee did ill.</p> + +<p>Â Â To me nae after days nor nichts<br> +Â Â Â Â Will eir be saft or kind;<br> +Â Â I'll fill the air with heavy sighs,<br> +Â Â Â Â And greet till I am blind.<br> +Â Â Enouch of blood by me's been spilt,<br> +Â Â Â Â Seek not zour death frae mee;<br> +Â Â I rather lourd it had been my sel<br> +Â Â Â Â Than eather him or thee.</p> + +<p>Â Â With waefo wae I hear zour plaint;<br> +Â Â Â Â Sair, sair I rew the deid,<br> +Â Â That eir this cursed hand of mine<br> +Â Â Â Â Had gard his body bleid.<br> +Â Â Dry up zour tears, my winsome dame,<br> +Â Â Â Â Ze neir can heal the wound;<br> +Â Â Ze see his head upon the speir,<br> +Â Â Â Â His heart's blude on the ground.</p> + +<p>Â Â I curse the hand that did the deid,<br> +Â Â Â Â The heart that thocht the ill;<br> +Â Â The feet that bore me wi' sik speid,<br> +Â Â Â Â The comely zouth to kill.<br> +Â Â I'll ay lament for Gill Morice,<br> +Â Â Â Â As gin he were mine ain;<br> +Â Â I'll neir forget the dreiry day<br> +Â Â Â Â 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>Â Â On yondre hill a castle standes<br> +Â Â Â Â With walles and towres bedight,<br> +Â Â Â And yonder lives the Child of Elle,<br> +Â Â A younge and comely knighte.</p> + +<p>Â Â The Child of Elle to his garden went,<br> +Â Â Â Â And stood at his garden pale,<br> +Â Â Whan, lo! he beheld fair Emmelines page<br> +Â Â Â Â Come trippinge downe the dale.</p> + +<p>Â Â The Child of Elle he hyed him thence,<br> +Â Â Â Â Y-wis he stoode not stille,<br> +Â Â And soone he mette faire Emmelines page<br> +Â Â Â Â Come climbinge up the hille.</p> + +<p>Â Â Nowe Christe thee save, thou little foot-page,<br> +Â Â Â Â Now Christe thee save and see!<br> +Â Â Oh telle me how does thy ladye gaye,<br> +Â Â Â Â And what may thy tydinges bee?</p> + +<p>Â Â My ladye shee is all woe-begone,<br> +Â Â Â Â And the teares they falle from her eyne;<br> +Â Â And aye she laments the deadlye feude<br> +Â Â Â Â Betweene her house and thine.</p> + +<p>Â Â And here shee sends thee a silken scarfe<br> +Â Â Â Â Bedewde with many a teare,<br> +Â Â And biddes thee sometimes thinke on her,<br> +Â Â Â Â Who loved thee so deare.</p> + +<p>Â Â And here shee sends thee a ring of golde<br> +Â Â Â Â The last boone thou mayst have,<br> +Â Â And biddes thee weare it for her sake,<br> +Â Â Â Â Whan she is layde in grave.</p> + +<p>Â Â For, ah! her gentle heart is broke,<br> +Â Â Â Â And in grave soone must shee bee,<br> +Â Â Sith her father hath chose her a new new love,<br> +Â Â Â Â And forbidde her to think of thee.</p> + +<p>Â Â Her father hath brought her a carlish knight,<br> +Â Â Â Â Sir John of the north countràye,<br> +Â Â And within three dayes she must him wedde,<br> +Â Â Â Â Or he vowes he will her slaye.</p> + +<p>Â Â Nowe hye thee backe, thou little foot-page,<br> +Â Â Â Â And greet thy ladye from mee,<br> +Â Â And telle her that I her owne true love<br> +Â Â Â Â Will dye, or sette her free.</p> + +<p>Â Â Nowe hye thee backe, thou little foot-page,<br> +Â Â Â Â And let thy fair ladye know<br> +Â Â This night will I bee at her bowre-windòwe,<br> +Â Â Â Â Betide me weale or woe.</p> + +<p>Â Â The boye he tripped, the boye he ranne,<br> +Â Â Â Â He neither stint ne stayd<br> +Â Â Untill he came to fair Emmelines bowre,<br> +Â Â Â Â Whan kneeling downe he sayd,</p> + +<p>Â Â O ladye, I've been with thine own true love,<br> +Â Â Â Â And he greets thee well by mee;<br> +Â Â This night will hee bee at thy bowre-windòwe,<br> +Â Â Â Â And dye or sett thee free.</p> + +<p>Â Â Nowe daye was gone, and night was come,<br> +Â Â Â Â And all were fast asleepe,<br> +Â Â All save the Ladye Emmeline,<br> +Â Â Â Â Who sate in her bowre to weepe:</p> + +<p>Â Â And soone shee heard her true loves voice<br> +Â Â Â Â Lowe whispering at the walle,<br> +Â Â Awake, awake, my deare ladyè,<br> +Â Â Â Â Tis I thy true love call.</p> + +<p>Â Â Awake, awake, my ladye deare,<br> +Â Â Â Â Come, mount this faire palfràye:<br> +Â Â This ladder of ropes will lette thee downe<br> +Â Â Â Â He carrye thee hence awaye.</p> + +<p>Â Â Nowe nay, nowe nay, thou gentle knight,<br> +Â Â Â Â Nowe nay, this may not bee;<br> +Â Â For aye shold I tint my maiden fame,<br> +Â Â Â Â If alone I should wend with thee.</p> + +<p>Â Â O ladye, thou with a knighte so true<br> +Â Â Â Â Mayst safelye wend alone,<br> +Â Â To my ladye mother I will thee bringe,<br> +Â Â Â Â Where marriage shall make us one.</p> + +<p>Â Â "My father he is a baron bolde,<br> +Â Â Â Â Of lynage proude and hye;<br> +Â Â And what would he saye if his daughtèr<br> +Â Â Â Â Awaye with a knight should fly</p> + +<p>Â Â "Ah! well I wot, he never would rest,<br> +Â Â Â Â Nor his meate should doe him no goode,<br> +Â Â Until he hath slayne thee, Child of Elle,<br> +Â Â Â Â And scene thy deare hearts bloode."</p> + +<p>Â Â O ladye, wert thou in thy saddle sette,<br> +Â Â Â Â And a little space him fro,<br> +Â Â I would not care for thy cruel fathèr,<br> +Â Â Â Â Nor the worst that he could doe.</p> + +<p>Â Â O ladye, wert thou in thy saddle sette,<br> +Â Â Â Â And once without this walle,<br> +Â Â I would not care for thy cruel fathèr<br> +Â Â Â Â Nor the worst that might befalle.</p> + +<p>Â Â Faire Emmeline sighed, fair Emmeline wept,<br> +Â Â Â Â And aye her heart was woe:<br> +Â Â At length he seized her lilly-white hand,<br> +Â Â Â Â And downe the ladder he drewe:</p> + +<p>Â Â And thrice he clasped her to his breste,<br> +Â Â Â Â And kist her tenderlìe:<br> +Â Â The teares that fell from her fair eyes<br> +Â Â Â Â Ranne like the fountayne free.</p> + +<p>Â Â Hee mounted himselfe on his steede so talle,<br> +Â Â Â Â And her on a fair palfràye,<br> +Â Â And slung his bugle about his necke,<br> +Â Â Â Â And roundlye they rode awaye.</p> + +<p>Â Â All this beheard her owne damsèlle,<br> +Â Â Â Â In her bed whereas shee ley,<br> +Â Â Quoth shee, My lord shall knowe of this,<br> +Â Â Â Â Soe I shall have golde and fee.</p> + +<p>Â Â Awake, awake, thou baron bolde!<br> +Â Â Â Â Awake, my noble dame!<br> +Â Â Your daughter is fledde with the Child of Elle<br> +Â Â Â Â To doe the deede of shame.</p> + +<p>Â Â The baron he woke, the baron he rose,<br> +Â Â Â Â And called his merrye men all:<br> +Â Â "And come thou forth, Sir John the knighte,<br> +Â Â Â Â Thy ladye is carried to thrall."</p> + +<p>Â Â Faire Emmeline scant had ridden a mile,<br> +Â Â Â Â A mile forth of the towne,<br> +Â Â When she was aware of her fathers men<br> +Â Â Â Â Come galloping over the downe:</p> + +<p>Â Â And foremost came the carlish knight,<br> +Â Â Â Â Sir John of the north countràye:<br> +Â Â "Nowe stop, nowe stop, thou false traitòure,<br> +Â Â Â Â Nor carry that ladye awaye.</p> + +<p>Â Â "For she is come of hye lineàge,<br> +Â Â Â Â And was of a ladye borne,<br> +Â Â And ill it beseems thee, a false churl's sonne,<br> +Â Â Â Â To carrye her hence to scorne."</p> + +<p>Â Â Nowe loud thou lyest, Sir John the knight,<br> +Â Â Â Â Nowe thou doest lye of mee;<br> +Â Â A knight mee gott, and a ladye me bore,<br> +Â Â Â Â Soe never did none by thee</p> + +<p>Â Â But light nowe downe, my ladye faire,<br> +Â Â Â Â Light downe, and hold my steed,<br> +Â Â While I and this discourteous knighte<br> +Â Â Â Â Doe trye this arduous deede.</p> + +<p>Â Â But light now downe, my deare ladyè,<br> +Â Â Â Â Light downe, and hold my horse;<br> +Â Â While I and this discourteous knight<br> +Â Â Â Â Doe trye our valour's force.</p> + +<p>Â Â Fair Emmeline sighed, fair Emmeline wept,<br> +Â Â Â Â And aye her heart was woe,<br> +Â Â While twixt her love and the carlish knight<br> +Â Â Â Â Past many a baleful blowe.</p> + +<p>Â Â The Child of Elle hee fought so well,<br> +Â Â Â Â As his weapon he waved amaine,<br> +Â Â That soone he had slaine the carlish knight,<br> +Â Â Â Â And layd him upon the plaine.</p> + +<p>Â Â And nowe the baron and all his men<br> +Â Â Â Â Full fast approached nye:<br> +Â Â Ah! what may ladye Emmeline doe<br> +Â Â Â Â Twere nowe no boote to flye.</p> + +<p>Â Â Her lover he put his horne to his mouth,<br> +Â Â Â Â And blew both loud and shrill,<br> +Â Â And soone he saw his owne merry men<br> +Â Â Â Â Come ryding over the hill.</p> + +<p>Â Â "Nowe hold thy hand, thou bold baròn,<br> +Â Â Â Â I pray thee hold thy hand,<br> +Â Â Nor ruthless rend two gentle hearts<br> +Â Â Â Â Fast knit in true love's band.</p> + +<p>Â Â Thy daughter I have dearly loved<br> +Â Â Â Â Full long and many a day;<br> +Â Â But with such love as holy kirke<br> +Â Â Â Â Hath freelye sayd wee may.</p> + +<p>Â Â O give consent, shee may be mine,<br> +Â Â Â Â And blesse a faithfull paire:<br> +Â Â My lands and livings are not small,<br> +Â Â Â Â My house and lineage faire:</p> + +<p>Â Â My mother she was an earl's daughtèr,<br> +Â Â Â Â And a noble knyght my sire--<br> +Â Â The baron he frowned, and turn'd away<br> +Â Â Â Â With mickle dole and ire.</p> + +<p>Â Â Fair Emmeline sighed, faire Emmeline wept,<br> +Â Â Â Â And did all tremblinge stand:<br> +Â Â At lengthe she sprang upon her knee,<br> +Â Â Â Â And held his lifted hand.</p> + +<p>Â Â Pardon, my lorde and father deare,<br> +Â Â Â Â This faire yong knyght and mee:<br> +Â Â Trust me, but for the carlish knyght,<br> +Â Â Â Â I never had fled from thee.</p> + +<p>Â Â Oft have you called your Emmeline<br> +Â Â Â Â Your darling and your joye;<br> +Â Â O let not then your harsh resolves<br> +Â Â Â Â Your Emmeline destroye.</p> + +<p>Â Â The baron he stroakt his dark-brown cheeke,<br> +Â Â Â Â And turned his heade asyde<br> +Â Â To whipe awaye the starting teare<br> +Â Â Â Â He proudly strave to hyde.</p> + +<p>Â Â In deepe revolving thought he stoode,<br> +Â Â Â Â And mused a little space;<br> +Â Â Then raised faire Emmeline from the grounde,<br> +Â Â Â Â With many a fond embrace.</p> + +<p>Â Â Here take her, Child of Elle, he sayd,<br> +Â Â Â Â And gave her lillye white hand;<br> +Â Â Here take my deare and only child,<br> +Â Â Â Â And with her half my land:</p> + +<p>Â Â Thy father once mine honour wrongde<br> +Â Â Â Â In dayes of youthful pride;<br> +Â Â Do thou the injurye repayre<br> +Â Â Â Â In fondnesse for thy bride.</p> + +<p>Â Â And as thou love her, and hold her deare,<br> +Â Â Â Â Heaven prosper thee and thine:<br> +Â Â And nowe my blessing wend wi' thee,<br> +Â Â Â Â 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>Â Â Childe Waters in his stable stoode<br> +Â Â Â Â And stroakt his milke white steede:<br> +Â Â To him a fayre yonge ladye came<br> +Â Â Â Â As ever ware womans weede.</p> + +<p>Â Â Sayes, Christ you save, good Childe Waters;<br> +Â Â Â Â Sayes, Christ you save, and see:<br> +Â Â My girdle of gold that was too longe,<br> +Â Â Â Â Is now too short for mee.</p> + +<p>Â Â And all is with one chyld of yours,<br> +Â Â Â Â I feel sturre att my side:<br> +Â Â My gowne of greene it is too straighte;<br> +Â Â Â Â Before, it was too wide.</p> + +<p>Â Â If the child be mine, faire Ellen, he sayd,<br> +Â Â Â Â Be mine, as you tell mee;<br> +Â Â Then take you Cheshire and Lancashire both,<br> +Â Â Â Â Take them your owne to bee.</p> + +<p>Â Â If the childe be mine, fair Ellen, he sayd,<br> +Â Â Â Â Be mine, as you doe sweare;<br> +Â Â Then take you Cheshire and Lancashire both,<br> +Â Â Â Â And make that child your heyre.</p> + +<p>Â Â Shee saies, I had rather have one kisse,<br> +Â Â Â Â Child Waters, of thy mouth;<br> +Â Â Than I wolde have Cheshire and Lancashire both,<br> +Â Â Â Â That laye by north and south.</p> + +<p>Â Â And I had rather have one twinkling,<br> +Â Â Â Â Childe Waters, of thine ee;<br> +Â Â Then I wolde have Cheshire and Lancashire both,<br> +Â Â Â Â To take them mine owne to bee.</p> + +<p>Â Â To morrow, Ellen, I must forth ryde<br> +Â Â Â Â Farr into the north countrie;<br> +Â Â The fairest lady that I can find,<br> +Â Â Â Â Ellen, must goe with mee.</p> + +<p>Â Â 'Thoughe I am not that lady fayre,<br> +Â Â Â Â 'Yet let me go with thee:'<br> +Â Â And ever I pray you, Child Watèrs,<br> +Â Â Â Â Your foot-page let me bee.</p> + +<p>Â Â If you will my foot-page be, Ellen,<br> +Â Â Â Â As you doe tell to mee;<br> +Â Â Then you must cut your gowne of greene,<br> +Â Â Â Â An inch above your knee:</p> + +<p>Â Â Soe must you doe your yellow lockes,<br> +Â Â Â Â An inch above your ee:<br> +Â Â You must tell no man what is my name;<br> +Â Â Â Â My foot-page then you shall bee.</p> + +<p>Â Â Shee, all the long day Child Waters rode,<br> +Â Â Â Â Ran barefoote by his side;<br> +Â Â Yett was he never soe courteous a knighte,<br> +Â Â Â Â To say, Ellen, will you ryde?</p> + +<p>Â Â Shee, all the long day Child Waters rode,<br> +Â Â Â Â Ran barefoote thorow the broome;<br> +Â Â Yett hee was never soe curteous a knighte,<br> +Â Â Â Â To say, put on your shoone.</p> + +<p>Â Â Ride softlye, shee sayd, O Childe Waters,<br> +Â Â Â Â Why doe you ryde soe fast?<br> +Â Â The childe, which is no mans but thine,<br> +Â Â Â Â My bodye itt will brast.</p> + +<p>Â Â Hee sayth, seeth thou yonder water, Ellen,<br> +Â Â Â Â That flows from bank to brimme?--<br> +Â Â I trust to God, O Child Waters,<br> +Â Â Â Â You never will see mee swimme.</p> + +<p>Â Â But when shee came to the waters side,<br> +Â Â Â Â Shee sayled to the chinne:<br> +Â Â Except the Lord of heaven be my speed,<br> +Â Â Â Â Now must I learne to swimme.</p> + +<p>Â Â The salt waters bare up her clothes;<br> +Â Â Â Â Our Ladye bare upp her chinne:<br> +Â Â Childe Waters was a woe man, good Lord,<br> +Â Â Â Â To see faire Ellen swimme.</p> + +<p>Â Â And when shee over the water was,<br> +Â Â Â Â Shee then came to his knee:<br> +Â Â He said, Come hither, thou fair Ellèn,<br> +Â Â Â Â Loe yonder what I see.</p> + +<p>Â Â Seest thou not yonder hall, Ellen?<br> +Â Â Â Â Of redd gold shines the yate;<br> +Â Â Of twenty foure faire ladyes there,<br> +Â Â Â Â The fairest is my mate.</p> + +<p>Â Â Seest thou not yonder hall, Ellen?<br> +Â Â Â Â Of redd gold shines the towre:<br> +Â Â There are twenty four fair ladyes there,<br> +Â Â Â Â The fairest is my paramoure.</p> + +<p>Â Â I see the hall now, Child Waters,<br> +Â Â Â Â Of redd golde shines the yate:<br> +Â Â God give you good now of yourselfe,<br> +Â Â Â Â And of your worthye mate.</p> + +<p>Â Â I see the hall now, Child Waters,<br> +Â Â Â Â Of redd gold shines the towre:<br> +Â Â God give you good now of yourselfe,<br> +Â Â Â Â And of your paramoure.</p> + +<p>Â Â There twenty four fayre ladyes were<br> +Â Â Â Â A playing att the ball:<br> +Â Â And Ellen the fairest ladye there,<br> +Â Â Â Â Must bring his steed to the stall.</p> + +<p>Â Â There twenty four fayre ladyes were<br> +Â Â Â Â A playinge at the chesse;<br> +Â Â And Ellen the fayrest ladye there,<br> +Â Â Â Â Must bring his horse to gresse.</p> + +<p>Â Â And then bespake Childe Waters sister,<br> +Â Â Â Â These were the wordes said shee:<br> +Â Â You have the prettyest foot-page, brother,<br> +Â Â Â Â That ever I saw with mine ee.</p> + +<p>Â Â But that his bellye it is soe bigg,<br> +Â Â Â Â His girdle goes wonderous hie:<br> +Â Â And let him, I pray you, Childe Watères,<br> +Â Â Â Â Goe into the chamber with mee.</p> + +<p>Â Â It is not fit for a little foot-page,<br> +Â Â Â Â That has run throughe mosse and myre,<br> +Â Â To go into the chamber with any ladye,<br> +Â Â Â Â That weares soe riche attyre.</p> + +<p>Â Â It is more meete for a litle foot-page,<br> +Â Â Â Â That has run throughe mosse and myre,<br> +Â Â To take his supper upon his knee,<br> +Â Â Â Â And sitt downe by the kitchen fyer.</p> + +<p>Â Â But when they had supped every one,<br> +Â Â Â Â To bedd they tooke theyr waye:<br> +Â Â He sayd, come hither, my little foot-page,<br> +Â Â Â Â And hearken what I saye.</p> + +<p>Â Â Goe thee downe into yonder towne,<br> +Â Â Â Â And low into the street;<br> +Â Â The fayrest ladye that thou can finde,</p> + +<p>Â Â Â Â Hyer her in mine armes to sleepe,<br> +Â Â And take her up in thine armes twaine,<br> +Â Â Â Â For filinge of her feete.</p> + +<p>Â Â Ellen is gone into the towne,<br> +Â Â Â Â And low into the streete:<br> +Â Â The fairest ladye that she cold find,<br> +Â Â Â Â Shee hyred in his armes to sleepe;<br> +Â Â And tooke her up in her armes twayne,<br> +Â Â Â Â For filing of her feete.</p> + +<p>Â Â I pray you nowe, good Child Watèrs,<br> +Â Â Â Â Let mee lye at your bedds feete:<br> +Â Â For there is noe place about this house,<br> +Â Â Â Â Where I may 'saye a sleepe.</p> + +<p>Â Â 'He gave her leave, and faire Ellèn<br> +Â Â Â Â 'Down at his beds feet laye:'<br> +Â Â This done the nighte drove on apace,<br> +Â Â Â Â And when it was neare the daye,</p> + +<p>Â Â Hee sayd, Rise up, my litle foot-page,<br> +Â Â Â Â Give my steede corne and haye;<br> +Â Â And soe doe thou the good black oats,<br> +Â Â Â Â To carry mee better awaye.</p> + +<p>Â Â Up then rose the faire Ellèn,<br> +Â Â Â Â And gave his steede corne and hay:<br> +Â Â And soe shee did the good blacke oats,<br> +Â Â Â Â To carry him the better away.</p> + +<p>Â Â Shee leaned her backe to the manger side,<br> +Â Â Â Â And grievouslye did groane:<br> +Â Â Shee leaned her backe to the manger side,<br> +Â Â Â Â And there shee made her moane.</p> + +<p>Â Â And that beheard his mother deere,<br> +Â Â Â Â Shee heard her there monand.<br> +Â Â Shee sayd, Rise up, thou Childe Watèrs,<br> +Â Â Â Â I think thee a cursed man.</p> + +<p>Â Â For in thy stable is a ghost,<br> +Â Â Â Â That grievouslye doth grone:<br> +Â Â Or else some woman laboures of childe,<br> +Â Â Â Â She is soe woe-begone.</p> + +<p>Â Â Up then rose Childe Waters soon,<br> +Â Â Â Â And did on his shirte of silke;<br> +Â Â And then he put on his other clothes,<br> +Â Â Â Â On his body as white as milke.</p> + +<p>Â Â And when he came to the stable dore,<br> +Â Â Â Â Full still there he did stand,<br> +Â Â That hee mighte heare his fayre Ellèn<br> +Â Â Â Â Howe shee made her monànd.</p> + +<p>Â Â Shee sayd, Lullabye, mine owne deere child,<br> +Â Â Â Â Lullabye, dere child, dere;<br> +Â Â I wold thy father were a king,<br> +Â Â Â Â Thy mother layd on a biere.</p> + +<p>Â Â Peace now, he said, good faire Ellèn,<br> +Â Â Â Â Be of good cheere, I praye;<br> +Â Â And the bridal and the churching both<br> +Â Â Â Â Shall bee upon one day.</p> + + +<br><br><br><br><br><br> +<h2><a name="chap09"></a>KING EDWARD IV & THE TANNER OF TAMWORTH</h2> +<img alt="230.jpg (137K)" src="images/230.jpg" height="601" width="782"> +<br><br> + +<p>Â Â In summer time, when leaves grow greene,<br> +Â Â Â Â Â And blossoms bedecke the tree,<br> +Â Â King Edward wolde a hunting ryde,<br> +Â Â Â Â Some pastime for to see.</p> + +<p>Â Â With hawke and hounde he made him bowne,<br> +Â Â Â Â With horne, and eke with bowe;<br> +Â Â To Drayton Basset he tooke his waye,<br> +Â Â Â Â With all his lordes a rowe.</p> + +<p>Â Â And he had ridden ore dale and downe<br> +Â Â Â Â By eight of clocke in the day,<br> +Â Â When he was ware of a bold tannèr,<br> +Â Â Â Â Come ryding along the waye.</p> + +<p>Â Â A fayre russet coat the tanner had on<br> +Â Â Â Â Fast buttoned under his chin,<br> +Â Â And under him a good cow-hide,<br> +Â Â Â Â And a marc of four shilling.</p> + +<p>Â Â Nowe stand you still, my good lordes all,<br> +Â Â Â Â Under the grene wood spraye;<br> +Â Â And I will wend to yonder fellowe,<br> +Â Â Â Â To weet what he will saye.</p> + +<p>Â Â God speede, God speede thee, said our king.<br> +Â Â Â Â Thou art welcome, Sir, sayd hee.<br> +Â Â "The readyest waye to Drayton Basset<br> +Â Â Â Â I praye thee to shew to mee."</p> + +<p>Â Â "To Drayton Basset woldst thou goe,<br> +Â Â Â Â Fro the place where thou dost stand?<br> +Â Â The next payre of gallowes thou comest unto,<br> +Â Â Â Â Turne in upon thy right hand."</p> + +<p>Â Â That is an unreadye waye, sayd our king,<br> +Â Â Â Â Thou doest but jest, I see;<br> +Â Â Nowe shewe me out the nearest waye,<br> +Â Â Â Â And I pray thee wend with mee.</p> + +<p>Â Â Away with a vengeance! quoth the tanner:<br> +Â Â Â Â I hold thee out of thy witt:<br> +Â Â All daye have I rydden on Brocke my mare,<br> +Â Â Â Â And I am fasting yett.</p> + +<p>Â Â "Go with me downe to Drayton Basset,<br> +Â Â Â Â No daynties we will spare;<br> +Â Â All daye shalt thou eate and drinke of the best,<br> +Â Â Â Â And I will paye thy fare."</p> + +<p>Â Â Gramercye for nothing, the tanner replyde,<br> +Â Â Â Â Thou payest no fare of mine:<br> +Â Â I trowe I've more nobles in my purse,<br> +Â Â Â Â Than thou hast pence in thine.</p> + +<p>Â Â God give thee joy of them, sayd the king,<br> +Â Â Â Â And send them well to priefe.<br> +Â Â The tanner wolde faine have beene away,<br> +Â Â Â Â For he weende he had beene a thiefe.</p> + +<p>Â Â What art thou, hee sayde, thou fine fellowe,<br> +Â Â Â Â Of thee I am in great feare,<br> +Â Â For the clothes, thou wearest upon thy back,<br> +Â Â Â Â Might beseeme a lord to weare.</p> + +<p>Â Â I never stole them, quoth our king,<br> +Â Â Â Â I tell you, Sir, by the roode.<br> +Â Â "Then thou playest, as many an unthrift doth,<br> +Â Â Â Â And standest in midds of thy goode."</p> + +<p>Â Â What tydinges heare you, sayd the kynge,<br> +Â Â Â Â As you ryde farre and neare?<br> +Â Â "I heare no tydinges, Sir, by the masse,<br> +Â Â Â Â But that cowe-hides are deare."</p> + +<p>Â Â "Cow-hides! cow-hides! what things are those?<br> +Â Â Â Â Â I marvell what they bee?"<br> +Â Â What, art thou a foole? the tanner reply'd;<br> +Â Â Â Â I carry one under mee.</p> + +<p>Â Â What craftsman art thou, said the king,<br> +Â Â Â Â I pray thee tell me trowe.<br> +Â Â "I am a barker, Sir, by my trade;<br> +Â Â Â Â Nowe tell me what art thou?"</p> + +<p>Â Â I am a poor courtier, Sir, quoth he,<br> +Â Â Â Â That am forth of service worne;<br> +Â Â And faine I wolde thy prentise bee,<br> +Â Â Â Â Thy cunninge for to learne.</p> + +<p>Â Â Marrye heaven forfend, the tanner replyde,<br> +Â Â Â Â That thou my prentise were:<br> +Â Â Thou woldst spend more good than I shold winne<br> +Â Â Â Â By fortye shilling a yere.</p> + +<p>Â Â Yet one thinge wolde I, sayd our king,<br> +Â Â Â Â If thou wilt not seeme strange:<br> +Â Â Thoughe my horse be better than thy mare,<br> +Â Â Â Â Yet with thee I fain wold change.</p> + +<p>Â Â "Why if with me thou faine wilt change,<br> +Â Â Â Â As change full well maye wee,<br> +Â Â By the faith of my bodye, thou proude fellowe<br> +Â Â Â Â I will have some boot of thee."</p> + +<p>Â Â That were against reason, sayd the king,<br> +Â Â Â Â I sweare, so mote I thee:<br> +Â Â My horse is better than thy mare,<br> +Â Â Â Â And that thou well mayst see.</p> + +<p>Â Â "Yea, Sir, but Brocke is gentle and mild,<br> +Â Â Â Â And softly she will fare:<br> +Â Â Thy horse is unrulye and wild, I wiss;<br> +Â Â Â Â Aye skipping here and theare."</p> + +<p>Â Â What boote wilt thou have? our king reply'd;<br> +Â Â Â Â Now tell me in this stound.<br> +Â Â "Noe pence, nor halfpence, by my faye,<br> +Â Â Â Â But a noble in gold so round.</p> + +<p>Â Â "Here's twentye groates of white moneye,<br> +Â Â Â Â Sith thou will have it of mee."<br> +Â Â I would have sworne now, quoth the tanner,<br> +Â Â Â Â Thou hadst not had one pennie.</p> + +<p>Â Â But since we two have made a change,<br> +Â Â Â Â A change we must abide,<br> +Â Â Although thou hast gotten Brocke my mare,<br> +Â Â Â Â Thou gettest not my cowe-hide.</p> + +<p>Â Â I will not have it, sayd the kynge,<br> +Â Â Â Â I sweare, so mought I thee;<br> +Â Â Thy foule cowe-hide I wolde not beare,<br> +Â Â Â Â If thou woldst give it to mee.</p> + +<p>Â Â The tanner hee tooke his good cowe-hide,<br> +Â Â Â Â That of the cow was bilt;<br> +Â Â And threwe it upon the king's sadelle,<br> +Â Â Â Â That was soe fayrelye gilte.<br> +Â Â "Now help me up, thou fine fellowe,<br> +Â Â Â Â 'Tis time that I were gone:<br> +Â Â When I come home to Gyllian my wife,<br> +Â Â Â Â Sheel say I am a gentilmon."</p> + +<p>Â Â The king he tooke him up by the legge;<br> +Â Â Â Â The tanner a f----- lett fall.<br> +Â Â Nowe marrye, good fellowe, sayd the king,<br> +Â Â Â Â Thy courtesye is but small.</p> + +<p>Â Â When the tanner he was in the kinges sadèlle,<br> +Â Â Â Â And his foote in the stirrup was;<br> +Â Â He marvelled greatlye in his minde,<br> +Â Â Â Â Whether it were golde or brass.</p> + +<p>Â Â But when the steede saw the cows taile wagge,<br> +Â Â Â Â And eke the blacke cowe-horne;<br> +Â Â He stamped, and stared, and awaye he ranne,<br> +Â Â Â Â As the devill had him borne.</p> + +<p>Â Â The tanner he pulld, the tanner he sweat,<br> +Â Â Â Â And held by the pummil fast:<br> +Â Â At length the tanner came tumbling downe;<br> +Â Â Â Â His necke he had well-nye brast.</p> + +<p>Â Â Take thy horse again with a vengeance, he sayd,<br> +Â Â Â Â With mee he shall not byde.<br> +Â Â "My horse wolde have borne thee well enoughe,<br> +Â Â Â Â But he knewe not of thy cowe-hide.</p> + +<p>Â Â Yet if againe thou faine woldst change,<br> +Â Â Â Â As change full well may wee,<br> +Â Â By the faith of my bodye, thou jolly tannèr,<br> +Â Â Â Â I will have some boote of thee."</p> + +<p>Â Â What boote wilt thou have? the tanner replyd,<br> +Â Â Â Â Nowe tell me in this stounde.<br> +Â Â "Noe pence nor halfpence, Sir, by my faye,<br> +Â Â Â Â But I will have twentye pound."</p> + +<p>Â Â "Here's twentye groates out of my purse;<br> +Â Â Â Â And twentye I have of thine:<br> +Â Â And I have one more, which we will spend<br> +Â Â Â Â Together at the wine."</p> + +<p>Â Â The king set a bugle home to his mouthe,<br> +Â Â Â Â And blewe both loude and shrille:<br> +Â Â And soone came lords, and soone came knights,<br> +Â Â Â Â Fast ryding over the hille.</p> + +<p>Â Â Nowe, out alas! the tanner he cryde,<br> +Â Â Â Â That ever I sawe this daye!<br> +Â Â Thou art a strong thiefe, yon come thy fellowes<br> +Â Â Â Â Will beare my cowe-hide away.</p> + +<p>Â Â They are no thieves, the king replyde,<br> +Â Â Â Â I sweare, soe mote I thee:<br> +Â Â But they are the lords of the north countrèy,<br> +Â Â Â Â Here come to hunt with mee.</p> + +<p>Â Â And soone before our king they came,<br> +Â Â Â Â And knelt downe on the grounde:<br> +Â Â Then might the tanner have beene awaye,<br> +Â Â Â Â He had lever than twentye pounde.</p> + +<p>Â Â A coller, a coller, here: sayd the king,<br> +Â Â Â Â A coller he loud gan crye:<br> +Â Â Then woulde he lever than twentye pound,<br> +Â Â Â Â He had not beene so nighe.</p> + +<p>Â Â A coller, a coller, the tanner he sayd,<br> +Â Â Â Â I trowe it will breed sorrowe:<br> +Â Â After a coller cometh a halter,<br> +Â Â Â Â I trow I shall be hang'd to-morrowe.</p> + +<p>Â Â Be not afraid, tanner, said our king;<br> +Â Â Â Â I tell thee, so mought I thee,<br> +Â Â Lo here I make thee the best esquire<br> +Â Â Â Â That is in the North countrie.</p> + +<p>Â Â For Plumpton-parke I will give thee,<br> +Â Â Â Â With tenements faire beside:<br> +Â Â 'Tis worth three hundred markes by the yeare,<br> +Â Â Â Â To maintaine thy good cowe-hide.</p> + +<p>Â Â Gramercye, my liege, the tanner replyde,<br> +Â Â Â Â For the favour thou hast me showne;<br> +Â Â If ever thou comest to merry Tamwòrth,<br> +Â Â Â Â 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>Â Â The king sits in Dumferling toune,<br> +Â Â Â Â Drinking the blude-reid wine:<br> +Â Â O quhar will I get guid sailòr,<br> +Â Â Â Â To sail this schip of mine.</p> + +<p>Â Â Up and spak an eldern knicht,<br> +Â Â Â Â Sat at the kings richt kne:<br> +Â Â Sir Patrick Spens is the best sailòr,<br> +Â Â Â Â That sails upon the se.</p> + +<p>Â Â The king has written a braid letter,<br> +Â Â Â Â And signd it wi' his hand;<br> +Â Â And sent it to Sir Patrick Spens,<br> +Â Â Â Â Was walking on the sand.</p> + +<p>Â Â The first line that Sir Patrick red,<br> +Â Â Â Â A loud lauch lauched he:<br> +Â Â The next line that Sir Patrick red,<br> +Â Â Â Â The teir blinded his ee.</p> + +<p>Â Â O quha is this has don this deid,<br> +Â Â Â Â This ill deid don to me;<br> +Â Â To send me out this time o' the zeir,<br> +Â Â Â Â To sail upon the se.</p> + +<p>Â Â Mak hast, mak haste, my mirry men all,<br> +Â Â Â Â Our guid schip sails the morne,<br> +Â Â O say na sae, my master deir,<br> +Â Â Â Â For I feir a deadlie storme.</p> + +<p>Â Â Late late yestreen I saw the new moone<br> +Â Â Â Â Wi' the auld moone in hir arme;<br> +Â Â And I feir, I feir, my deir master,<br> +Â Â Â Â That we will com to harme.</p> + +<p>Â Â O our Scots nobles wer richt laith<br> +Â Â Â Â To weet their cork-heild schoone;<br> +Â Â Bot lang owre a' the play wer playd,<br> +Â Â Â Â Thair hats they swam aboone.</p> + +<p>Â Â O lang, lang, may thair ladies sit<br> +Â Â Â Â Wi' thair fans into their hand,<br> +Â Â Or eir they se Sir Patrick Spens<br> +Â Â Â Â Cum sailing to the land.</p> + +<p>Â Â O lang, lang, may the ladies stand<br> +Â Â Â Â Wi' thair gold kems in their hair,<br> +Â Â Waiting for thair ain deir lords,<br> +Â Â Â Â For they'll se thame na mair.</p> + +<p>Â Â Have owre, have owre to Aberdour,<br> +Â Â Â Â It's fiftie fadom deip:<br> +Â Â And thair lies guid Sir Patrick Spens,<br> +Â Â Â Â 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>Â Â It was intill a pleasant time,<br> +Â Â Â Â Upon a simmer's day,<br> +Â Â The noble Earl of Mar's daughter<br> +Â Â Went forth to sport and play.</p> + +<p>Â Â As thus she did amuse hersell,<br> +Â Â Â Â Below a green aik tree,<br> +Â Â There she saw a sprightly doo<br> +Â Â Â Â Set on a tower sae hie.</p> + +<p>Â Â "O cow-me-doo, my love sae true,<br> +Â Â Â Â If ye'll come down to me,<br> +Â Â Ye 'se hae a cage o guid red gowd<br> +Â Â Â Â Instead o simple tree:</p> + +<p>Â Â "I'll put growd hingers roun your cage,<br> +Â Â Â Â And siller roun your wa;<br> +Â Â I'll gar ye shine as fair a bird<br> +Â Â Â Â As ony o them a'."</p> + +<p>Â Â But she hadnae these words well spoke,<br> +Â Â Â Â Nor yet these words well said,<br> +Â Â Till Cow-me-doo flew frae the tower<br> +Â Â Â Â And lighted on her head.</p> + +<p>Â Â Then she has brought this pretty bird<br> +Â Â Â Â Hame to her bowers and ba,<br> +Â Â And made him shine as fair a bird<br> +Â Â Â Â As ony o them a'.</p> + +<p>Â Â When day was gane, and night was come,<br> +Â Â Â Â About the evening tide,<br> +Â Â This lady spied a sprightly youth<br> +Â Â Â Â Stand straight up by her side.</p> + +<p>Â Â "From whence came ye, young man?" she said;<br> +Â Â Â Â "That does surprise me sair;<br> +Â Â My door was bolted right secure,<br> +Â Â Â Â What way hae ye come here?"</p> + +<p>Â Â "O had your tongue, ye lady fair,<br> +Â Â Â Â Lat a' your folly be;<br> +Â Â Mind ye not on your turtle-doo<br> +Â Â Â Â Last day ye brought wi thee?"</p> + +<p>Â Â "O tell me mair, young man," she said,<br> +Â Â Â Â "This does surprise me now;<br> +Â Â What country hae ye come frae?<br> +Â Â Â Â What pedigree are you?"</p> + +<p>Â Â "My mither lives on foreign isles,<br> +Â Â Â Â She has nae mair but me;<br> +Â Â She is a queen o wealth and state,<br> +Â Â Â Â And birth and high degree.</p> + +<p>Â Â "Likewise well skilld in magic spells,<br> +Â Â Â Â As ye may plainly see,<br> +Â Â And she transformd me to yon shape,<br> +Â Â Â Â To charm such maids as thee.</p> + +<p>Â Â "I am a doo the live-lang day,<br> +Â Â Â Â A sprightly youth at night;<br> +Â Â This aye gars me appear mair fair<br> +Â Â Â Â In a fair maiden's sight.</p> + +<p>Â Â "And it was but this verra day<br> +Â Â Â Â That I came ower the sea;<br> +Â Â Your lovely face did me enchant;<br> +Â Â Â Â I'll live and dee wi thee."</p> + +<p>Â Â "O Cow-me-doo, my luve sae true,<br> +Â Â Â Â Nae mair frae me ye 'se gae;<br> +Â Â That's never my intent, my luve,<br> +Â Â Â Â As ye said, it shall be sae."</p> + +<p>Â Â "O Cow-me-doo, my luve sae true,<br> +Â Â Â Â It's time to gae to bed;"<br> +Â Â "Wi a' my heart, my dear marrow,<br> +Â Â Â Â It's be as ye hae said."</p> + +<p>Â Â Then he has staid in bower wi her<br> +Â Â Â Â For sax lang years and ane,<br> +Â Â Till sax young sons to him she bare,<br> +Â Â Â Â And the seventh she's brought hame.</p> + +<p>Â Â But aye as ever a child was born<br> +Â Â Â Â He carried them away,<br> +Â Â And brought them to his mither's care,<br> +Â Â Â Â As fast as he coud fly.</p> + +<p>Â Â Thus he has staid in bower wi her<br> +Â Â Â Â For twenty years and three;<br> +Â Â There came a lord o high renown<br> +Â Â Â Â To court this fair ladie.</p> + +<p>Â Â But still his proffer she refused,<br> +Â Â Â Â And a' his presents too;<br> +Â Â Says, I'm content to live alane<br> +Â Â Â Â Wi my bird, Cow-me-doo.</p> + +<p>Â Â Her father sware a solemn oath<br> +Â Â Â Â Amang the nobles all,<br> +Â Â "The morn, or ere I eat or drink,<br> +Â Â Â Â This bird I will gar kill."</p> + +<p>Â Â The bird was sitting in his cage,<br> +Â Â Â Â And heard what they did say;<br> +Â Â And when he found they were dismist,<br> +Â Â Â Â Says, Wae's me for this day!</p> + +<p>Â Â "Before that I do langer stay,<br> +Â Â Â Â And thus to be forlorn,<br> +Â Â I'll gang unto my mither's bower,<br> +Â Â Â Â Where I was bred and born."</p> + +<p>Â Â Then Cow-me-doo took flight and flew<br> +Â Â Â Â Beyond the raging sea,<br> +Â Â And lighted near his mither's castle,<br> +Â Â Â Â On a tower o gowd sae hie.</p> + +<p>Â Â As his mither was wauking out,<br> +Â Â Â Â To see what she coud see,<br> +Â Â And there she saw her little son,<br> +Â Â Â Â Set on the tower sae hie.</p> + +<p>Â Â "Get dancers here to dance," she said,<br> +Â Â Â Â "And minstrells for to play;<br> +Â Â For here's my young son, Florentine,<br> +Â Â Â Â Come here wi me to stay."</p> + +<p>Â Â "Get nae dancers to dance, mither,<br> +Â Â Â Â Nor minstrells for to play,<br> +Â Â For the mither o my seven sons,<br> +Â Â Â Â The morn's her wedding-day."</p> + +<p>Â Â "O tell me, tell me, Florentine,<br> +Â Â Â Â Tell me, and tell me true,<br> +Â Â Tell me this day without a flaw,<br> +Â Â Â Â What I will do for you."</p> + +<p>Â Â "Instead of dancers to dance, mither,<br> +Â Â Â Â Or minstrells for to play,<br> +Â Â Turn four-and-twenty wall-wight men<br> +Â Â Â Â Like storks in feathers gray;</p> + +<p>Â Â "My seven sons in seven swans,<br> +Â Â Â Â Aboon their heads to flee;<br> +Â Â And I mysell a gay gos-hawk,<br> +Â Â Â Â A bird o high degree."</p> + +<p>Â Â Then sichin said the queen hersell,<br> +Â Â Â Â "That thing's too high for me;"<br> +Â Â But she applied to an auld woman,<br> +Â Â Â Â Who had mair skill than she.</p> + +<p>Â Â Instead o dancers to dance a dance,<br> +Â Â Â Â Or minstrells for to play,<br> +Â Â Four-and-twenty wall-wight men<br> +Â Â Â Â Turnd birds o feathers gray;</p> + +<p>Â Â Her seven sons in seven swans,<br> +Â Â Â Â Aboon their heads to flee;<br> +Â Â And he himsell a gay gos-hawk,<br> +Â Â Â Â A bird o high degree.</p> + +<p>Â Â This flock o birds took flight and flew<br> +Â Â Â Â Beyond the raging sea,<br> +Â Â And landed near the Earl Mar's castle,<br> +Â Â Â Â Took shelter in every tree.</p> + +<p>Â Â They were a flock o pretty birds,<br> +Â Â Â Â Right comely to be seen;<br> +Â Â The people viewed them wi surprise,<br> +Â Â Â Â As they dancd on the green.</p> + +<p>Â Â These birds ascended frae the tree<br> +Â Â Â Â And lighted on the ha,<br> +Â Â And at the last wi force did flee<br> +Â Â Â Â Amang the nobles a'.</p> + +<p>Â Â The storks there seized some o the men,<br> +Â Â Â Â They coud neither fight nor flee;<br> +Â Â The swans they bound the bride's best man<br> +Â Â Â Â Below a green aik tree.</p> + +<p>Â Â They lighted next on maidens fair,<br> +Â Â Â Â Then on the bride's own head,<br> +Â Â And wi the twinkling o an ee<br> +Â Â Â Â The bride and them were fled.</p> + +<p>Â Â There's ancient men at weddings been<br> +Â Â Â Â For sixty years or more,<br> +Â Â But sic a curious wedding-day<br> +Â Â Â Â They never saw before.</p> + +<p>Â Â For naething coud the companie do.<br> +Â Â Â Â Nor naething coud they say<br> +Â Â But they saw a flock o pretty birds<br> +Â Â Â Â That took their bride away.</p> + +<p>Â Â When that Earl Mar he came to know<br> +Â Â Â Â Where his dochter did stay,<br> +Â Â He signd a bond o unity,<br> +Â Â Â Â 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 + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A BOOK OF BALLADS, VOLUME 3 *** + +***** This file should be named 7533-h.htm or 7533-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/7/5/3/7533/ + +Produced by David Widger, Juliet Sutherland, Phil McLaury, +Charles Franks and the Online Distributed Proofreading 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diff --git a/7533-h/images/colvill.jpg b/7533-h/images/colvill.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..4c3c945 --- /dev/null +++ b/7533-h/images/colvill.jpg diff --git a/7533-h/images/mars.jpg b/7533-h/images/mars.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..202940e --- /dev/null +++ b/7533-h/images/mars.jpg diff --git a/7533-h/images/morrice.jpg b/7533-h/images/morrice.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..fbaf3d2 --- /dev/null +++ b/7533-h/images/morrice.jpg diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +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 +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..55dadf0 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #7533 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/7533) diff --git a/old/7533-8.txt b/old/7533-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..dcde66c --- /dev/null +++ b/old/7533-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,2750 @@ +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 + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A BOOK OF BALLADS, VOLUME 3 *** + +***** This file should be named 7533-8.txt or 7533-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/7/5/3/7533/ + +Produced by David Widger, Juliet Sutherland, Phil McLaury, +Charles Franks and the Online Distributed Proofreading +Team. 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Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For forty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. diff --git a/old/7533-8.zip b/old/7533-8.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..0d757c2 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/7533-8.zip diff --git a/old/7533.txt b/old/7533.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..ff5f402 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/7533.txt @@ -0,0 +1,2750 @@ +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 + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A BOOK OF BALLADS, VOLUME 3 *** + +***** This file should be named 7533.txt or 7533.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/7/5/3/7533/ + +Produced by David Widger, Juliet Sutherland, Phil McLaury, +Charles Franks and the Online Distributed Proofreading +Team. 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