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1C 


University  of  California  •  Berkeley 

From  the  book  collection  of 
BERTRAND  H.  BRONSON 

bequeathed  by  him 
or  donated  by  his  wife 

Mildred  S.  Bronson 


ENGLISH   AND  SCOTTISH 


BALLADS. 


EDITED  BY 

FKANCIS  JAMES   CHILD. 


Sum  bethe  of  wer,  and  sum  of  wo, 
Sum  of  joie  and  mirthe  also ; 
And  sum  of  trecherie  and  of  gile, 
Of  old  aventours  that  fel  while  ; 
And  sum  of  bourdes  and  ribaudy  ; 
And  many  ther  beth  of  fairy ; 
Of  all  thinges  that  men  seth ;  — 
Maist  o  love  forsothe  thai  beth. 

Lay  le  Freine. 


VOLUME   I. 


BOSTON: 
LITTLE,  BROWN    AND     COMPANY. 

M.DCCC.LX. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1857, 
by  LITTLE,  BROWN  AND  COMPANY,  in  the  Clerk's  Office  of 
the  District  Court  of  Massachusetts. 


RIVSRSIDE,  CAMBRIDGE: 

STEREOTYPED    AND    PRINTED    BY 

H.  0.  HOUQHTON  AND  COMPANY. 


CONTENTS   OF   VOLUME   FIRST. 

Page 

PREFACE vii 

List  of  Collections  of  Ballads  and  Songs xiii 

BOOK  I. 

1.  The  Boy  and  the  Mantle 3 

2.  The  Horn  of  King  Arthur 17 

3.  The  Marriage  of  Sir  Gawaine...: 28 

4.  King  Arthur's  Death 40 

5.  The  Legend  of  King  Arthur 50 

6.  Sir  Lancelot  du  Lake 55 

7.  The  Legend  of  Sir  Guy 61 

8.  St.  George  and  the  Dragon 69 

9.  The  Seven  Champions  of  Christendom 83 

10  a.   Thomas  of  Ersseldoune 95 

10  b.   Thomas  the  Khymer 109 

11.  The  Young  Tamlane 114 

12.  The  Wee  Wee  Man 126 

13.  The  Elfin  Knight 128 

14  a.   The  Broomfield  Hill 131 

14  b.   Lord  John 134 

15  a.   Kempion 137 

15  b.   Kemp  Owyne 143 

16.       King  Henry 147 

17  a.   Cospatrick 152 

17  b.   Both  well.. .                                                              .  158 


VI  CONTENTS. 

Page 

18.  Willie's  Ladye 162 

19.  Alison  Gross 168 

20.  The  Earl  of  Mar's  Daughter 171 

21  a.  Young  Akin 179 

21  b.   Young  Hastings  the  Groom 189 

22.       Clerk  Colvill,  or,  The  Mermaid 192 

23  a.    Lady  Isabel  and  the  Elf-Knight 195 

23  b.   The  Water  0' Wearie's  Well 198 

24  a.   The  Dasmon  Lover 201 

24  b.   James  Herries 205 

25.  The  Knight's  Ghost 210 

26.  The  Wife  of  Usher's  Well 213 

27.  The  Suffolk  Miracle. 217 

28.  Sir  Koland 223 

APPENDIX. 
Fragment  of  the  Ballad  of  King  Arthur  and  the  King  of 

Cornwall 231 

Fragment  of  Child  Rowland  and  Burd  Ellen 245 

Rosmer  Hafmand,  or,  The  Merman  Rosmer 253 

Tam-a-Line 258 

Tom  Linn 267 

Burd  Ellen  and  Young  Tamlane 271 

Als  Y  yod  on  ay  Mounday 273 

The  Elphin  Knight 277 

The  Laidley  Worm  of  Spindlestonheugh 281 

Lord  Dingwall 288 

Fragment  of  Hynde  Etin 294 

Sir  Oluf  and  the  Elf-King's  Daughter 298 

Fragment  of  the  Daemon  Lover 302 

Constantine  and  Arete 304 

Translation  of  the  Same 307 

The  Hawthorn  Tree 311 

St.  Stephen  and  Herod 315 

GLOSSARY . .  319 


PREFACE. 


THESE  volumes  have  been  compiled  from  the 
numerous  collections  of  Ballads  printed  since  the 
beginning  of  the  last  century.  They  contain  all 
but  two  or  three  of  the  ancient  ballads  of  Eng 
land  and  Scotland,  and  nearly  all  those  ballads 
which,  in  either  country,  have  been  gathered  from 
oral  tradition,  —  whether  ancient  or  not.  Widely 
different  from  the  true  popular  ballads,  the  spon 
taneous  products  of  nature,  are  the  works  of  the 
professional  ballad-maker,  which  make  up  the 
bulk  of  Garlands  and  Broadsides.  These,  though 
sometimes  not  without  grace,  more  frequently  not 
lacking  in  humor,  belong  to  artificial  literature, 
—  of  course  to  an  humble  department.1  As 

1  This  distinction  is  not  absolute,  for  several  of  the  ancient 
ballads  have  a  sort  of  literary  character,  and  many  broad 
sides  were  printed  from  oral  tradition.  The  only  popular 
ballads  excluded  from  this  selection  that  require  mention, 
are  The  Bonny  Hynd,  The  Jolly  Beggar,  The  Baffled  Knight, 
The  Keach  in  the  Creel,  and  The  Earl  of  Errol  These  bal 
lads,  in  all  their  varieties,  may  be  found  by  referring  to  the 
general  Index  at  the  end  of  the  eighth  volume.  To  extend 


Vlll  PREFACE. 

many  ballads  of  this  second  class  have  been  ad 
mitted  as  it  was  thought  might  be  wished  for, 
perhaps  I  should  say  tolerated,  by  the  "  benevo 
lent  reader."  No  words  could  express  the  dul- 
ness  and  inutility  of  a  collection  which  should 
embrace  all  the  Roxburghe  and  Pepys  broadsides 
—  a  scope  with  which  this  publication  was  most 
undeservedly  credited  by  an  English  journal. 
But  while  the  broadside  ballads  have  been  and 
must  have  been  gleaned,  the  popular  ballads 
demand  much  more  liberal  treatment.  Many  of 
the  older  ones  are  mutilated,  many  more  are  mis 
erably  corrupted,  but  as  long  as  any  traces  of  their 
originals  are  left,  they  are  worthy  of  attention  and 
have  received  it.  When  a  ballad  is  extant  in  a 
variety  of  forms,  all  the  most  important  versions 
are  given.  —  Less  than  this  would  have  seemed 
insufficient  for  a  collection  intended  as  a  comple 
ment  to  an  extensive  series  of  the  British  Poets. 
To  meet  the  objections  of  readers  for  pleasure, 
all  those  pieces  which  are  wanting  in  general 
interest  are  in  each  volume  inserted  in  an  ap 
pendix. 

The  ballads  are  grouped  in  eight  Books,  nearly 
corresponding  to  the  division  of  volumes.  The 
arrangement  in  the  several  Books  may  be  called 
chronological,  by  which  is  meant,  an  arrangement 

the  utility  of  this  index,  references  are  also  given  to  many 
other  ballads  which,  though  not  worth  reprinting,  may  occa 
sionally  be  inquired  for. 


PREFACE.  IX 

according  to  the  probable  antiquity  of  the  story, 
not  the  age  of  the  actual  form  or  language.  Ex 
ceptions  to  this  rule  will  be  observed,  partly  the 
result  of  oversight,  partly  of  fluctuating  views ; 
the  most  noticeable  case  is  in  the  First  Book, 
where  the  ballads  that  stand  at  the  beginning  are 
certainly  not  so  old  as  some  that  follow.  Again, 
it  is  very  possible  that  some  pieces  might  with 
advantage  be  transferred  to  different  Books,  but 
it  is  believed  that  the  general  disposition  will  be 
found  practically  convenient.  It  is  as  follows  :  — 

BOOK  I.  contains  Ballads  involving  Supersti 
tions  of  various  kinds,  —  as  of  Fairies,  Elves, 
Water-spirits,  Enchantment,  and  Ghostly  Appa 
ritions  ;  and  also  some  Legends  of  Popular 
Heroes. 

BOOK  II.  Tragic  Love-ballads. 

BOOK  III.  other  Tragic  Ballads. 

BOOK  IV.  Love-ballads  not  Tragic. 

BOOK  V.  Ballads  of  Robin  Hood,  his  followers, 
and  compeers. 

BOOK  VI.  Ballads  of  other  Outlaws,  especially 
Border  Outlaws,  of  Border  Forays,  Feuds,  &c. 

BOOK  VII.  Historical  Ballads,  or  those  relating 
to  public  characters  or  events. 

BOOK  VIII.  Miscellaneous  Ballads,  especially 
Humorous,  Satirical,  Burlesque ;  also  some  speci 
mens  of  the  Moral  and  Scriptural,  and  all  such 
pieces  as  had  been  overlooked  in  arranging  the 
earlier  volumes. 


X  PREFACE. 

For  the  Texts,  the  rule  has  been  to  select  the 
most  authentic  copies,  and  to  reprint  them  as  they 
stand  in  the  collections,  restoring  readings  that 
had  been  changed  without  grounds,  and  noting  all 
deviations  from  the  originals,  whether  those  of 
previous  editors  or  of  this  edition,  in  the  margin. 
Interpolations  acknowledged  by  the  editors  have 
generally  been  dropped.  In  two  instances  only 
have  previously  printed  texts  been  superseded  or 
greatly  improved :  the  text  of  The  Horn  of  King 
Arthur,  in  the  first  volume,  was  furnished  from 
the  manuscript,  by  J.  O.  Halliwell,  Esq.,  and 
Adam  Bel,  in  the  fifth  volume,  has  been  amended 
by  a  recently  discovered  fragment  of  an  excellent 
edition,  kindly  communicated  by  J.  P.  Collier, 
Esq. 

The  Introductory  Notices  prefixed  to  the  seve 
ral  ballads  may  seem  dry  and  somewhat  meagre. 
They  will  be  found,  it  is  believed,  to  comprise 
what  is  most  essential  ^even  for  the  less  cursory 
reader  to  know.  These  prefaces  are  intended  to 
give  an  account  of  all  the  printed  forms  of  each 
ballad,  and  references  to  the  books  in  which  they 
were  first  published.  In  many  cases  also,  the 
corresponding  ballads  in  other  languages,  espe 
cially  in  Danish,  Swedish,  and  German,  are  briefly 
pointed  out.  But  these  last  notices  are  very  im 
perfect.  Fascinating  as  such  investigations  are, 
they  could  not  be  allowed  to  interfere  with  the 
progress  of  the  series  of  Poets  of  which  this  col- 


PREFACE.  XI 

lection  of  Ballads  forms  a  part,  nor  were  the 
necessary  books  immediately  at  hand.  At  a  more 
favorable  time  the  whole  subject  may  be  resumed, 
unless  some  person  better  qualified  shall  take  it 
up  in  the  interim. 

While  upon  this  point  let  me  make  the  warm 
est  acknowledgments  for  the  help  received  from 
Grundtvig's  Ancient  Popular  Ballads  of  Den 
mark  (Danmarks  Gamle  Folkeviser),  a  work 
which  has  no  equal  in  its  line,  and  which  may 
in  every  way  serve  as  a  model  for  collections  of 
National  Ballads.  Such  a  work  as  Grundtvig's 
can  only  be  imitated  by  an  English  editor,  never 
equalled,  for  the  material  is  not  at  hand.  All 
Denmark  seems  to  have  combined  to  help  on  his 
labors ;  schoolmasters  and  clergymen,  in  those 
retired  nooks  where  tradition  longest  lingers,  have 
been  very  active  in  taking  down  ballads  from 
the  mouths  of  the  people,  and  a  large  number 
of  old  manuscripts  have  been  placed  at  his  dis 
posal. —  We  have  not  even  the  Percy  Manu 
script  at  our  command,  and  must  be  content  to 
take  the  ballads  as  they  are  printed  in  the  Re- 
ligues,  with  all  the  editor's  changes.  This  manu 
script  is  understood  to  be  in  the  hands  of  a  dealer 
who  is  keeping  it  from  the  public  in  order  to  en 
hance  its  value.  The  greatest  service  that  can 
now  be  done  to  English  Ballad-literature  is  to 
publish  this  precious  document.  Civilization  has 
made  too  great  strides  in  the  island  of  Great 


X.11  PREFACE. 

Britain  for  us  to  expect  much  more  from  tradi 
tion. 

Certain  short  romances  which  formerly  stood 
in  the  First  Book,  have  been  dropped  from  this 
second  Edition,  in  order  to  give  the  collection  a 
homogeneous  character.  One  or  two  ballads  have 
been  added,  and  some  of  the  prefaces  considera 
bly  enlarged.  F.  J.  C. 

May,  1860. 


LIST   OF    THE    PRINCIPAL    COLLECTIONS 

OF  ENGLISH  AND  SCOTTISH  BALLADS  AND  SONGS. 

[This  list  does  not  include  (excepting  a  few  reprints)  the 
collections  of  Songs,  Madrigals,  "  Ballets,"  &c.,  published  in 
the  sixteenth  and  seventeenth  centuries,  —  the  titles  of  most 
of  which  are  to  be  seen  in  Rimbault's  Bibliolheca  Madrigal- 
iana.  On  the  other  hand,  it  does  include  a  few  useful  books 
connected  with  ballad-poetry  which  would  not  properly  come 
into  a  list  of  collections.  The  relative  importance  of  the 
works  in  this  list  is  partially  indicated  by  difference  of  type. 
When  two  or  more  editions  are  mentioned,  those  used  in  this 
collection  are  distinguished  by  brackets.  A  few  books 
which  we  have  not  succeeded  in  finding  —  all  of  slight  or  no 
importance  —  are  marked  with  a  star.] 

"A  Choise  Collection  of  Comic  and  Serious  Scots  Poems. 
Both  Ancient  and  Modern.  By  several  Hands.  Edinburgh. 
Printed  by  James  Watson."  Three  Parts,  1706,  1709,  1710. 
[1713,  1709, 1711.] 

"Miscellany  Poems,  containing  a  variety  of  new  Translations 
of  the  Ancient  Poets,  together  with  several  original  poems. 
By  the  most  eminent  hands."  Ed.  by  Dryden.  6  vols. 
1st  ed.  1684-1708.  Ed.  of  1716*  contains  ballads  not  in  the 
earlier  ones. 

"  Wit  and  Mirth :  or  Pills  to  Purge  Melancholy ;  being 
a  Collection  of  the  best  Merry  Ballads  and  Songs,  Old 
and  New.  Fitted  to  all  Humours,  having  each  their 
proper  Tune  for  either  Voice  or  Instrument :  most 
of  the  Songs  being  new  set."  By  Thomas  D'Urfey. 
6  vols.  London.  1719-20. 

"A  COLLECTION  OF  OLD  BALLADS.  Corrected 
from  the  best  and  most  ancient  Copies  extant. 
With  Introductions  Historical,  Critical,  or  Humor- 


XIV  LIST    OF    COLLECTIONS    OF 

ous."     3  vols.     London.     1st  and  2d  vol.  1723,  3d  vol. 
1725. 

"  The  Evergreen.  Being  a  Collection  of  Scots  Poems, 
Wrote  by  the  Ingenious  before  1600.  Published 
by  Allan  Ramsay."  2  vols.  Edinburgh,  1724. 
[Edinburgh.  Printed  for  Alex.  Donaldson,  1761.] 

"  The  Tea-Table  MisceUany:  A  Collection  of  Choice 
Songs,  Scots  and  English."  Edinburgh.  1724. 
4  vols.  [Glasgow,  R  &  A.  Foulis.  1768.  2  vols.] 

"  Orpheus  Caledonius,  or  a  Collection  of  Scots  Songs,  Set  to 
Musick  by  W.  Thomson."  London,  1725,  fol.  [1733, 2  vols. 
8vo.] 

"  The  Hive.  A  Collection  of  the  most  celebrated  Songs." 
In  Four  Volumes.  4th  ed.  London.  1732. 

"  The  British  Musical  Miscellany,  or  The  Delightful  Grove, 
being  a  collection  of  celebrated  English  and  Scottish 
Songs."  London.  1733-36. 

"  RELIQUES  OF  ANCIENT  ENGLISH  POETRY  :  Con 
sisting  of  Old  Heroic  Ballads,  Songs,  and  other 
Pieces  of  our  Earlier  Poets ;  together  with  some 
few  of  later  date.  By  THOMAS  PERCY,  Lord 
Bishop  of  Dromore."  3  vols.  1st  ed.  London, 
1765.  [4th  ed.  (improved)  1794.  — London,  L.  A. 
Lewis,  1839.] 

"  ANCIENT  AND  MODERN  SCOTTISH  SONGS,  Heroic 
Ballads,  &c."  By  DAVID  HERD.  2  vols.  Edin 
burgh,  1769.  2d  ed.  1776.  [3d  ed.  Printed  for 
Lawrie  and  Symington,  1791.] 

"  Ancient  Scottish  Poems.  Published  from  the  MS.  of  George 
Bannatyne,  MDLXVIII."  By  Sir  David  Dalrymple,  Lord 
Hailes.  Edinburgh,  1770. 


BALLADS    AND    SONGS.  XV 

"The  Choice  Spirit's  Chaplet:  or  a  Poesy  from  Parnassus, 
being  a  Select  Collection  of  Songs  from  the  most  approved 
authors :  many  of  them  written  and  the  whole  compiled  by 
George  Alexander  Stevens,  Esq."  Whitehaven,  1771. 

"  A  Collection  of  English  Songs  in  score  for  three  or  four 
Voices.  Composed  about  the  year  1500.  Taken  from 
MSS.  of  the  same  age.  Kevised  and  digested  by  John 
Stafford  Smith."  London,  1779. 

"  Scottish  Tragic  Ballads."  John  Pinkerton.  Lon 
don,  1781. 

"  Two  Ancient  Scottish  Poems ;  The  Gaberlunzie-Man  and 
Christ's  Kirk  on  the  Green.  With  Notes  and  Observations. 
By  John  Callender,  Esq.  of  Craigforth."  Edinburgh,  1782. 

"The  Charmer:  A  Collection  of  Songs,  chiefly  such  as  are 
eminent  for  poetical  merit ;  among  which  are  many  orig 
inals,  and  others  that  were  never  before  printed  in  a  song- 
book."  2  vols.  4th  ed.  Edinburgh,  1782. 

"  Select  Scottish  Ballads."  2  vols.  John  Pinkerton. 
London,  1783.  Vol.  I.  Tragic  Ballads,  Vol.  H. 
Comic  Ballads. 

"A  Select  Collection  of  English  Songs,  with  their 
Original  Airs,  and  an  Historical  Essay  on  the  Origin 
and  Progress  of  National  Song."  By  J.  Ritson. 
1783.  2d  ed.  with  Additional  Songs  and  Occasional 
Notes,  by  Thomas  Park.  London,  1813.  3  vols. 

"  The  Poetical  Museum.  Containing  Songs  and 
Poems  on  almost  every  subject.  Mostly  from 
Periodical  Publications."  George  Caw.  Hawick, 
1784. 

M  The  Bishopric  Garland  or  Durham  Minstrel."  Edited  by 
Ritson.  Stockton,  1784.  Newcastle,  1792.  [London, 
1809.]  See  "  Northern  Garlands,"  p.  xix. 

*  "The  New  British  Songster.    A  Collection  of  Songs,  Scots 


XVI  LIST    OF    COLLECTIONS    OF 

and  English,  with  Toasts  and  Sentiments  for  the  Bottle." 
Falkirk,  1785. 

"Ancient  Scottish  Poems,  never  before  in  print,  but  now 
published  from  the  MS.  collections  of  Sir  Richard  Mait- 
land,"  &c.  John  Pinkerton.  2  vols.  London,  1786. 

"  The  Works  of  James  L,  King  of  Scotland."  To  which  are 
added  "  Two  Ancient  Scotish  Poems,  commonly  ascribed 
to  King  James  V."  (The  Gaberlunzie-Man  and  the  Jollie 
Beggar.)  Morrison's  Scotish  Poets.  Poets.  Perth,  1786. 

"  THE  SCOTS  MUSICAL  MUSEUM.  In  six  volumes. 
Consisting  of  Six  Hundred  Scots  Songs,  with 
proper  Basses  for  the  Piano  Forte,"  &c.  By  James 
Johnson.  Edinburgh,  1787-1803.  [3d  ed.  "with 
copious  Notes  and  Illustrations  of  the  Lyric  Poetry 
and  Music  of  Scotland,  by  the  late  Wiliam  Sten- 
house,"  and  "with  additional  Notes  and  Illustra 
tions,"  by  David  Laing.  -4  vols.  Edinburgh  and 
London,  1853.] 

"  The  Yorkshire  Garland."  Edited  by  Ritson.  York,  1788. 
See  "  Northern  Garlands,"  p.  xix. 

*  "A  Select  Collection  of  Favourite  Scottish  Ballads."  6  vols. 
B.  Morison  &  Son.  Perth,  1790. 

"  Pieces  of  Ancient  Popular  Poetry :  From  Authentic 
Manuscripts  and  Old  Printed  Copies.  By  Joseph 
Ritson,  Esq."  London,  1791.  [Second  Edition, 
London,  1833.] 

"  Ancient  Songs  and  Ballads,  from  the  Reign  of  King 
Henry  the  Second  to  the  Revolution.  Collected 
by  Joseph  Ritson,  Esq."  2  vols.  Printed  1787, 
dated  1790,  published  1792.  [London,  1829.] 

"  Scottish  Poems,  reprinted  from  scarce  editions,  with  three 


BALLADS    AND    SONGS.  XVU 

pieces  before  unpublished."    Collected  by  John  Pinkerton. 
3  vols.     London,  1792. 

*  "  The  Melodies  of  Scotland,  &c.    The  Poetry  chiefly  by 
Burns.    The  whole  collected  by  George  Thomson."    Lond. 
&  Edin.  6  vols.  1793-1841.    See  p.  xx.,  last  title  but  one. 

"  The  Northumberland  Garland."  Edited  by  Ritson.  New 
castle,  1793.  [London,  1809.]  See  "  Northern  Garlands," 
p.  xix. 

"  SCOTISH  SONG.  In  two  volumes."  JOSEPH  RIT 
SON.  London,  1794. 

"  ROBIN  HOOD  :  A  Collection  of  all  the  Ancient 
Poems,  Songs  and  Ballads,  now  extant,  relative  to 
that  celebrated  English  Outlaw.  To  which  are 
prefixed  Historical  Anecdotes  of  his  Life.  By 
JOSEPH  RITSON,  Esq."  2  vols.  1795.  [Second 
Edition,  London,  1832.] 

"  A  Collection  of  English  Songs,  with  an  Appendix  of  Orig 
inal  Pieces."  London,  1796.  Lord  Hailes. 

*  "  An  Introduction  to  the  History  of  Poetry  in  Scotland,  &c., 
by  Alexander  Campbell,  to  which  are  subjoined  Songs  of 
the  Lowlands  of  Scotland,  carefully  compared  with  the 
original  editions."    Edinburgh,  1798.    4to. 

"  Tales  of  Wonder  ;  Written  and  collected  by  M.  G. 
Lewis,  Esq.,  M.  P."  2  vols.  London,  1800.  [New- 
York,  1801.] 

"  Scottish  Poems  of  the  Sixteenth  Century."  Ed.  by  J.  G. 
Dalzell.  Edinburgh,  1801.  2  vols.  (Contains  "Ane  Com 
pendious  Booke  of  Godly  and  Spirituall  Songs,  collectit 
out  of  sundrie  Partes  of  the  Scripture,  with  sundrie  of 
other  Ballates,  changed  out  of  Prophaine  Sanges  for  avoyd- 
ing  of  Sinne  and  Harlotrie,  with  Augmentatioun  of  sundrie 
Gude  and  Godly  Ballates,  not  contained  in  the  first  Edition. 
VOL.  I.  b 


Xviii  LIST    OF    COLLECTIONS    OF 

Newlie  corrected  and  amended  by  the  first  Originall  Copie. 
Edinburgh,  printed  by  Andro  Hart.") 

"The  Complaynt  of  Scotland.  Written  in  1548.  With  a 
Preliminary  Dissertation  and  Glossary."  By  John  Leyden. 
Edinburgh,  1801. 

"Chronicle  of  Scottish  Poetry ;  from  the  Thirteenth  Century 
to  the  Union  of  the  Crowns."  By  J.  Sibbald.  4  vols. 
Edinburgh,  1802. 

"  The  North-Country  Chorister."  Edited  by  J.  Kitson. 
Durham,  1802.  [London,  1809.]  See  "  Northern  Gar 
lands,"  p.  xix. 

"  MINSTRELSY  OF  THE  SCOTTISH  BORDER  :  Con 
sisting  of  Historical  and  Romantic  Ballads,  collected 
in  the  Southern  Counties  of  Scotland ;  with  a  few 
of  modern  date  founded  upon  local  tradition."  1st 
and  2d  vols.  1802,  3d  1803.  [Poetical  Works  of 
SIR  WALTER  SCOTT,  vols.  1-4.  Cadell,  Edin 
burgh,  1851.] 

"  The  Wife  of  Auchtermuchty.  An  ancient  Scottish  Poem, 
with  a  translation  into  Latin  Rhyme."  Edinburgh,  1803. 

"  A  Collection  of  Songs,  Moral,  Sentimental,  Instructive,  and 
Amusing."  By  James  Plumtre.  4to.  Cambridge,  1805. 
London,  1824.  3  vols. 

"POPULAR  BALLADS  AND  SONGS,  from  Tradition, 
Manuscripts,  and  scarce  Editions  ;  with  translations 
of  similar  pieces  from  the  ancient  Danish  language, 
and  a  few  originals  by  the  Editor.  By  ROBERT 
JAMIESON."  2  vols.  Edinburgh,  1806. 

"  Ancient  ( ! )  Historic  Ballads."     Newcastle,  1807. 

"  Scottish  Historical  and  Romantic  Ballads,  chiefly 
ancient."  By  John  Finlay.  2  vols.  Edinburhg, 
1808. 


BALLADS    AND    SONGS.  XIX 

"  Remains  of  Nithsdale  and  Galloway  Song,"  &c.  By  K.  H. 
Cromek.  London,  1810. 

"  Old  Ballads,  Historical  and  Narrative,  with  some  of 
modern  date :  collected  from  Rare  Copies  and  MSS." 
By  Thomas  Evans.  2  vols.  1777.  4  vols.  1784. 
[New  edition,  revised  and  enlarged  by  R.  H.  Evans. 
4  vols.  London,  1810.] 

u  Select  Scottish  Songs,  Ancient  and  Modern,  with  Critical 
and  Biographical  Notices,  by  Robert  Burns.  Edited  by 
R.  H.  Cromek."  London.  1810.  2  vols. 

"  Essay  on  Song- Writing  ;  with  a  Selection  of  such  English 
Songs  as  are  most  eminent  for  poetical  merit.  By  John 
Aiken.  A  new  edition,  with  Additions  and  Corrections, 
and  a  Supplement  by  R.  H.  Evans."  London,  1810. 

"Northern  Garlands."  London,  1810.  (Contains  The  Bishop 
ric,  Yorkshire,  and  Northumberland  Garlands,  and  The 
North-Country  Chorister,  before  mentioned.) 

"  Bibliographical  Miscellanies,  being  a  Collection  of  Curious 
Pieces  in  Verse  and  Prose."  By  Dr.  Bliss.  Oxford,  1813. 

"  Illustrations  of  Northern  Antiquities,  from  the  earlier 
Teutonic  and  Scandinavian  Romances,  &c.,  with 
translations  of  Metrical  Tales  from  the  Old  German, 
Danish,  Swedish,  and  Icelandic  Languages."  4to. 
By  Weber,  Scott,  and  Jamieson.  Edinburgh,  1814. 

"  Pieces  of  ancient  Poetry,  from  unpublished  Manuscripts  and 
scarce  Books."  Fry.  Bristol,  1814. 

"  A  Collection  of  Ancient  and  Modern  Scottish  Ballads,  Tales, 
and  Songs:  with  explanatory  Notes  and  Observations." 
By  John  Gilchrist.  2  vols.  Edinburgh,  1815. 

"  Heliconia.  Comprising  a  Selection  of  the  Poetry  of  the 
Elizabethan  age,  written  or  published  between  1576  and 
1604."  Edited  by  T.  Park.  3  vols.  London,  1815. 


XX  LIST    OF    COLLECTIONS    OF 

*  "  Albyn's  Anthology."     By  Alexander  Campbell.     Edin 
burgh,  1816. 

"  The  Pocket  Encyclopedia  of  Song."  2  vols.  Glasgow, 
1816. 

"  Calliope :  A  Selection  of  Ballads,  Legendary  and  Pathetic." 
London,  1816. 

Facetiae.  Musarum  Delicise  (1656),  Wit  Restor'd 
(1658),  and  Wits  Recreations  (1640).  2  vols. 
London,  1817. 

"  The  Suffolk  Garland :  or  a  Collection  of  Poems,  Songs, 
Tales,  Ballads,  Sonnets,  and  Elegies,  relative  to  that  coun 
ty."  Ipswich,  1818. 

"  The  Jacobite  Relics  of  Scotland :  being  the  Songs, 
Airs,  and  Legends  of  the  adherents  to  the  House 
of  Stuart.  Collected  and  illustrated  by  James 
Hogg."  2  vols.  Edinburgh,  1819  and  1821. 

"  The  Harp  of  Caledonia  :  A  Collection  of  Songs,  Ancient 
and  Modern,  chiefly  Scottish,"  &c.  ByJohnStrathers.  3  vols. 
Glasgow,  1819. 

"  The  New  Notborune  Mayd."  Roxburghe  Club.  London, 
1820. 

"  The  Scottish  Minstrel,  a  Selection  from  the  Vocal  Melodies 
of  Scotland,  Ancient  and  Modern,  arranged  for  the  Piano- 
Forte  by  R.  A.  Smith."  6  vols.  1820-24. 

*  "  The  British  Minstrel,  a  Selection  of  Ballads,  Ancient  and 
Modern ;  with  Notes,  Biographical  and  Critical.     By  John 
Struthers."     Glasgow,  1821. 

"  Scarce  Ancient  Ballads,  many  never  before  published." 
Aberdeen.  Alex.  Laing,  1822. 

"  The  Select  Melodies  of  Scotland,  interspersed  with  those 
of  Ireland  and  Wales,"  &c.  By  George  Thomson.  Lon 
don.  6  vols.  1822-25. 

"  Select  Remains  of  the  Ancient  Popular  Poetry  of 

Scotland."     By  David  Laing.     Edinburgh,  1822. 
"  The  Beauties  of  English  Poetry."     London,  1823. 


BALLADS    AND    SONGS.  xxi 

"The  Thistle  of  Scotland;  a  Selection  of  Ancient  Ballads, 
with  Notes.  By  Alexander  Laing."  Aberdeen,  1823. 

"  Some  ancient  Christmas  Carols,  with  the  tunes  to  which 
they  were  formerly  sung  in  the  West  of  England ;  together 
with  two  ancient  Ballads,  a  Dialogue,  &c.  Collected  by 
Davies  Gilbert."  The  Second  Edition.  London,  1823. 

"  A  Collection  of  Curious  Old  Ballads  and  Miscellaneous 
Poetry."  David  Webster.  Edinburgh,  1824. 

"  A  Ballad  Book."  By  Charles  Kirkpatrick  Sharpe. 
1824.  (30  copies  printed.) 

"  A  North  Countrie  Garland."  By  James  Maidment 
Edinburgh,  1824.  (30  copies  printed.) 

"  The  Common-Place  Book  of  Ancient  and  Modern  Ballad 
and  Metrical  Legendary  Tales.  An  Original  Selection, 
including  many  never  before  published."  Edinburgh,  1824. 

*  "  The  Scottish  Caledonian  Encyclopaedia;  or,  the  Original, 
Antiquated,  and  Natural  Curiosities  of  the  South  of  Scot 
land,  interspersed  with  Scottish  Poetry."  By  John  Mac- 
taggart.  London,  1824. 

"  Gleanings  of  Scotch,  English,  and  Irish  scarce  Old 
Ballads,  chiefly  Tragical  and  Historical."  By  Peter 
Buchan.  Peterhead,  1825. 

"  The  Songs  of  Scotland,  Ancient  and  Modern  ;  with 
an  Introduction  and  Notes,"  &c.  By  Allan  Cun 
ningham.  4  vols.  London,  1825. 

"Early  Metrical  Tales."  By  David  Laing.  Edinburgh, 
1826. 

"ANCIENT  SCOTTISH  BALLADS,  recovered  from 
Tradition,  and  never  before  published :  with  Notes, 
Historical  and  Explanatory,  and  an  Appendix,  con 
taining  the  Airs  of  several  of  the  Ballads."  By 
GEORGE  R.  KINLOCH.  Edinburgh,  1827. 


XX11  LIST    OF    COLLECTIONS    OF 

"MINSTRELSY,  ANCIENT  AND  MODERN,  with  an 
Historical  Introduction  and  Notes.  By 'WILLIAM 
MOTHERWELL."  Glasgow,  1827. 

"  The  Ballad-Book."  By  George  R.  Kinloch.  Edin 
burgh,  1827.  (30  copies  printed.) 

"  Ancient  Ballads  and  Songs,  chiefly  from  Tradition, 
Manuscripts,  and  Scarce  Works,"  &c.  By  Thomas 
Lyle.  London,  1827. 

"  The  Knightly  Tale  of  Golagrus  and  Gawane,  and  other  An 
cient  Poems.  Printed  at  Edinburgh,  by  W.  Chepman  and 
A.  Myllar  in  the  year  M.  D.  VIII.  Reprinted  MD.  CCC. 
XXVII." 

"  Ancient  Ballads  and  Songs  of  the  North  of  Scotland, 
hitherto  unpublished."  By  Peter  Buchan.  2  vols. 
Edinburgh,  1828. 

"Jacobite  Minstrelsy,  with  Notes  illustrative  of  the  Text, 
and  containing  Historical  Details  in  Relation  to  the  House 
of  Stuart  from  1640  to  1784."  Glasgow,  1829. 

"  The  Scottish  Ballads ;  Collected  and  Illustrated  by 
Robert  Chambers."  Edinburgh,  1829. 

"The  Scottish  Songs;  Collected  and  Illustrated  by 
Robert  Chambers."  2  vols.  Edinburgh,  1829. 

"Ancient  Metrical  Tales:  printed  chiefly  from  Original 
Sources."  By  C.  H.  Hartshorne.  London,  1829. 

"  Christmas  Carols,  Ancient  and  Modern,  including  the  most 
popular  in  the  West  of  England,  and  the  airs  to  which 
they  were  sung,"  &c.  By  W.  Sandys.  London,  1833. 

"  The  Bishoprick  Garland,  or  a  collection  of  Legends,  Songs, 
Ballads,  &c.,  belonging  to  the  County  of  Durham."  By 
Sir  Cuthbert  Sharp.  London,  1834. 

"  The  Universal  Songster,  or  Museum  of  Mirth,  forming  the 
most  complete,  extensive,  and  valuable  collection  of  An 
cient  and  Modern  Songs  in  the  English  language.  3  vols. 
London.  1834. 


BALLADS    AND    SONGS.  XX111 

"  Hugues  de  Lincoln.  Recueil  de  Ballades,  Anglo- 
Normande  et  Ecossoises,  relatives  an  meurtre  de 
cet  enfant,"  &c.  Francisque  Michel.  Paris,  1834. 

"  Ballads  and  other  Fugitive  Poetical  Pieces,  chiefly  Scot 
tish;  from  the  collections  of  Sir  James  Balfour."  Edin 
burgh,  1834.  Ed.  by  James  Maidment. 

"  Lays  and  Legends  of  Various  Nations."  By  W.  J.  Thorns. 
London,  1834.  5  parts. 

"  The  Songs  of  England  and  Scotland."  By  Peter 
Cunningham.  2  vols.  London,  1835. 

"  Songs  and  Carols.  Printed  from  a  Manuscript  in  the 
Sloane  Collection  in  the  British  Museum."  By  T.  Wright. 
London,  1836. 

"  The  Nutbrown  Maid.  From  the  earliest  edition  of 
Arnold's  Chronicle."  By  T.  Wright.  London, 
1836. 

"  The  Turnament  of  Totenham,  and  The.  Feest.  Two  early 
Ballads,  printed  from  a  Manuscript  preserved  in  the  Public 
Library  of  the  University  of  Cambridge."  By  T.  Wright. 
London,  1836. 

"  A  Little  Book  of  Ballads."  Newport,  1836.  Printed  by 
E.  V.  Utterson  for  the  Koxburghe  Club. 

"  Ancient  Scotish  Melodies,  from  a  Manuscript  of  the 
Reign  of  King  James  VI.,  with  an  Introductory  En 
quiry  illustrative  of  the  History  of  Music  in  Scot 
land."  By  William  Dauney.  Edinburgh,  1838. 

"  Syr  Gawayne;  a  collection  of  Ancient  Romance- 
Poems,  by  Scotish  and  English  authors,  relating  to 
riiat  celebrated  Knight  of  the  Round  Table,  with  an 
Introduction,  Notes,  and  a  Glossary."  By  Sir  Fred. 
Madden.  Bannatyne  Club.  London,  1839. 


XXIV  LIST    OF    COLLECTIONS    OF 

*  "  Fruhlingsgabe  fur  Freunde  alterer  Literatur."  By  Th. 
G.  v.  Karajan.  Vienna,  1839.  (Contains  English  ballads.) 

'  The  Political  Songs  of  England,  from  the  Reign  of  John 
to  that  of  Edward  II.  Edited  and  translated  by  Thomas 
Wright."  London,  1839.  Camden  Society. 

"  A  Collection  of  National  English  Airs,  consisting  of 
Ancient  Song,  Ballad,  and  Dance  Tunes,  inter 
spersed  with  Remarks  and  Anecdote,  and  preceded 
by  an  Essay  on  English  Minstrelsy."  By  W.  Chap- 
pell.  2  vols.  London,  1838-1840.  (see  post.) 

"  The  Latin  Poems  commonly  attributed  to  Walter  Mapes, 
collected  and  edited  by  Thomas  Wright."  London,  1841. 
Camden  Society. 

PUBLICATIONS  OF  THE  PERCY  SOCIETY, 

(1840-1852.) 

Vol.  I.  "  Old  Ballads,  from  Early  Printed  Copies  of 
the  Utmost  Rarity."   By  J.  Payne  Collier.    1 840. 

"  A  Collection  of  Songs  and  Ballads  relative  to  the  Lon 
don  Prentices  and  Trades,  and  to  the  Affairs  of  London 
generally,  during  the  14th,  15th,  and  16th  centuries." 
By  Charles  Mackay.  1841. 

"The  Historical  Songs  of  Ireland:  illustrative  of  the 
Revolutionary  Struggle  between  James  II.  and  William 
III.  By  T.  Crofton  Croker.  1841. 

"  The  King  and  a  Poor  Northern  Man.  From  the  edition 
of  1640."  1841. 

Vo    II.  "  The  Early  Naval  Ballads  of  England.     Collected 
and  edited  by  J.  0.  Halliwell."     1841. 

"  The  Mad  Pranks  and  Merry  Jests  of  Robin  Goodfellow. 
Reprinted  from  the  edition  of  1628."  By  J.  Payne 
Collier.  1841. 


BALLADS    AND    SONGS.  XXV 

Vol.  HI.  "  Political  Ballads  published  in  England 
during  the  Commonwealth."  By  Thomas  Wright. 
1841. 

"  Strange  Histories  :  consisting  of  Ballads  and  other 
Poems,  principally  by  Thomas  Deloney.  From 
the  edition  of  1607."  1841. 

"  The  History  of  Patient  Grisel.  Two  early  Trac  ts 
in  Black-letter."  1842. 

Vol.  IV.  "  The  Nursery  Rhymes  of  England,  collected  princi 
pally  from  oral  Tradition."    By  J.  0.  Halliwell.    1842. 
Vol.  VI.    "  Ancient  Poetical  Tracts  of  the  Sixteenth  Cen 
tury."     Reprinted  from  unique  Copies.    By  E.  F.  Rim- 
bault.     1842. 

"  The  Crown  Garland  of  Golden  Roses :  Consisting 
of  Ballads  and  Songs.  By  Richard  Johnson."  Part 
I.  From  the  edition  of  1612.  1842.  [Part  H.,  from 
the  edition  of  1659,  in  vol.  xv.] 

Vol.  IX.  "  Old  Ballads  illustrating  the  great  Frost  of  1683-4, 
and  the  Fair  on  the  Thames."  Collected  and  edited  by 
E.  F.  Rimbault,  1844. 

Vol.  XIII.  "  Six  Ballads  with  Burdens."  By  James  Good 
win.  1844. 

"  Lyrical  Poems  selected  from  Musical  Publications  be 
tween  the  years   1589  and  1600."     By  J.  P.  Collier. 
1844. 
Vol.  XV.  "The   Crown  Garland   of  Golden  Roses. 

Part  II.     From  the  edition  of  1659."     1845. 
Vol.  XVII.  "  Scottish   Traditional  Versions   of  An 
cient   Ballads."      [From  a  MS.    of   Buchan's.] 
Edited  by  James  Henry  Dixon.     1845. 
"  Ancient  Poems,  Ballads,  and  Songs  of  the  Peas 
antry  of  England,  taken  down  from  oral  recita 
tion,  and  transcribed  from  private  manuscripts, 


XXVI  LIST    OF    COLLECTIONS    OF 

rare  broadsides,  and  scarce  publications.  Col 
lected  and  edited  by  James  Henry  Dixon." 
1846. 

Vol.  XIX.  "  The  Civic  Garland.  A  Collection  of  Songs  from 
London  Pageants."  By  F.  W.  Fairholt.  1845. 

Vol.  XXI.  "  Popular  Songs  illustrative  of  the  French  Invas 
ions  of  Ireland."  By  T.  Crofton  Croker.  1845. 

Vol.  XXIII.  "  Songs  and  Carols,  now  first  printed  from  a 
manuscript  of  the  Fifteenth  Century."  By  Thomas 
Wright,  1847. 

"  Festive  Songs,  principally  of  the  16th  and  17th  centuries : 
with  an  Introduction."  By  William  Sandys.  1848. 

VoL  XXVII.  "  Satirical  Songs  and  Poems  on  Costume:  from 
the  13th  to  the  19th  century."  By  F.  W.  Fairholt. 
1849. 

Vol.  XXIX.  "  The  Loyal  Garland:  a  Collection  of  Songs  of 
the  17th  century.  Reprinted  from  a  black-letter  copy 
supposed  to  be  unique."  By  J.  0.  Halliwell.  1850. 

"  Poems  and  Songs  relating  to  George  Villiers,  Duke  of 
Buckingham,  and  his  assassination  by  John  Felton." 
By  F.  W.  Fairholt. 

Vol.  XXX.  "  The  Garland  of  Goodwill,  by  Thomas 
Deloney."  From  the  edition  of  1678.  By  J.  H. 
Dixon.  1852. 


"  Popular  Rhymes,  Fireside  Stories,  and  Amusements  of 
Scotland."  By  Robert  Chambers,  Edinburgh.  1842. 
[Earlier  edition  in  1826.] 

"  Selections  from  the  Early  Ballad  Poetry  of  England  and 
Scotland.  Edited  by  Richard  John  King."  London,  1842. 

"The  Book  of  British  Ballads."  By  S.  C.  Hall. 
2  vols.  1842,  1844. 

"The  Book  of  Scottish    Song:   collected  and  illus- 


BALLADS    AND    SONGS.  XXV11 

trated  with  Historical  and  Critical  Notices,  and  an 
Essay  on  the  Song- Writers  of  Scotland."  By  Alex. 
Whitelaw.  1843.  [Glasgow,  Edinburgh  and  Lon 
don,  1855.] 

"  A  New  Book  of  Old  Ballads."  By  James  Maidment. 
Edinburgh,  1844.  [60  copies  printed.] 

*  Twelve  Romantic  Scottish  Ballads,  with  Music.  Cham 
bers,  1844. 

Publications  of  the  Shakespeare  Society  : 
"  The  Shakespeare  Society  Papers."     Vol.  I.  1844.     Vol.  IV. 
1849. 

"Illustrations  of  the  Fairy  Mythology  of  A  Midsummer 
Night's  Dream."  By  J.  0.  Halliwell.  1845. 

"  The  Moral  Play  of  Wit  and  Science,  and  Early  Poetical 
Miscellanies  from  an  Unpublished  Manuscript."  By  J.  0. 
Halliwell.  1848. 

"  Extracts  from  the  Registers  of  the  Stationers'  Com 
pany,  of  Works  entered  for  publication  between  the 
years  1557  and  1570.  With  Notes  and  Illustra 
tions  by  J.  Payne  Collier."  1848.  Vol.  IT.  [1570- 
1587.]  1849. 

"  The  Book  of  Scottish  Ballads  ;  collected  and  illus 
trated  with  Historical  and  Critical  Notices.  By 
Alex.  Whitelaw."  Glasgow,  Edinburgh  &  London. 
1845. 

"Reliquiae  Antiquae."  Wright  &  Halliwell.  2  vols.  Lon 
don,  1845. 

u  Essays  on  Subjects  connected  with  the  Literature,  Popular 
Superstitions,  and  History  of  England  in  the  Middle  Ages." 
By  Thomas  Wright.  2  vols.  London,  1846. 

"The  Borderer's  Table  Book:  or  Gatherings  of  the  Local 


XXV111  LIST    OF    COLLECTIONS    OF 

History  and  Romance  of  the  English  and  Scottish  Border. 
By  M.  A.  Richardson."  8  vols.  Newcastle-upon-Tyne 
1846. 

"The  Ballads  and  Songs  of  Ayrshire,"  &c.  By  James 
Paterson  and  Captain  Charles  Gray.  2  vols.  Ayr,  1846- 
1847. 

"The  Minstrelsy  of  the  English  Border.  Being  a  Collection 
of  Ballads,  Ancient,  Remodelled,  and  Original,  founded  on 
well-known  Border  Legends.  With  Illustrative  Notes." 
By  Frederick  Sheldon.  London,  1847. 

"  A  Book  of  Roxburghe  Ballads.  Edited  by  John 
Payne  Collier."  London,  1847. 

"  Bibliotheca  Madrigaliana.  A  Bibliographical  Account  of  the 
Musical  and  Poetical  Works  published  in  England  during 
the  16th  and  17th  centuries,  under  the  titles  of  Madrigals, 
Ballets,  Ayres,  Canzonets,"  &c.  By  E.  F.  Rimbault. 
1847. 

"  A  Lytell  Geste  of  Robin  Hode,  with  other  Ancient 
and  Modern  Ballads  and  Songs  relating  to  this  cel 
ebrated  Yeoman,"  &c.  By  John  Mathew  Gutch. 
2  vols.  London.  1847. 

"  Sir  Hugh  of  Lincoln :  or  an  Examination  of  a  curious 
tradition  respecting  the  Jews,  with  a  Notice  of  the 
Popular  Poetry  connected  with  it.  By  the  Rev. 
Abraham  Hume."  London,  1849. 

"  Ballads  and  Poems  respecting  Hugh  of  Lincoln."  J.  0. 
Halliwell.  Brixton  Hill,  1849. 

"  The  Ballad  of  Edwin  and  Emma.  By  David  Mallet."  With 
Notes  and  Illustrations  by  Frederick  T.  Dinsdale.  London, 
1849. 

"  Musical  Illustrations  of  Bishop  Percy's  Reliques  of 
Ancient  English  Poetry.  A  Collection  of  Old 
Ballad  Tunes,  etc.  chiefly  from  rare  MSS.  and 


BALLADS  AND  SONGS.         XXIX 

early  Printed  Books,"  &c.     By  Edward  F.  Rim- 
bault.     London,  1850. 

"  The  Fairy  Mythology.  Elusfcrative  of  the  Romance 
and  Superstition  of  various  Countries."  By  Thomas 
Keightley.  London,  1850. 

"  Palatine  Anthology.  A  Collection  of  ancient  Poems  and 
Ballads  relating  to  Lancashire  and  Cheshire.  The  Pala 
tine  Garland.  Being  a  Selection  of  Ballads  and  Frag 
ments  supplementary  to  the  Palatine  Anthology."  By  J. 
0.  Halliwell.  1850.  [Privately  printed.] 

"  A  New  Boke  about  Shakespeare  and  Stratford-on-Avon." 
By  J.  0.  Halliwell.  1850.  [Privately  printed.  ] 

"  A  Little  Book  of  Songs  and  Ballads,  gathered  from  Ancient 
Musick  Books,  MS.  and  Printed."  By  E.  F.  Rimbault. 
London,  1851. 

"The  Sussex  Garland.  A  collection  of  Ballads,  Sonnets, 
Tales,  Elegies,  Songs,  Epitaphs,  &c.  illustrative  of 
the  County  of  Sussex."  By  James  Taylor.  Newick, 
1851. 

"  The  Yorkshire  Anthology.  A  Collection  of  Ancient  and 
Modern  Ballads,  Poems  and  Songs,  relating  to  the  County 
of  Yorkshire.  Collected  by  J.  0.  Halliwell."  London, 
1851.  [Privately  printed.] 

"  The  Norfolk  Anthology.  A  Collection  of  Poems,  Ballads, 
and  Rare  Tracts,  relating  to  the  County  of  Norfolk."  Col 
lected  by  J.  0.  Halliwell.  1852.  [Privately  printed.] 

"  The  Illustrated  Book  of  English  Songs.  From  the 
Sixteenth  to  the  Nineteenth  Century.  Illustrated 
London  Library.  London,  (about)  1852. 

"  The  Illustrated  Book  of  Scottish  Songs.  From  the 
Sixteenth  to  the  Nineteenth  Century.  Illustrated 
London  Library.  London,  (about)  1852. 


XXX  LIST    OF    COLLECTIONS    OF 

"  The  Great  Hero  of  the  Ancient  Minstrelsy  of  England, 
Robin  Hood,"  &c.  By  Joseph  Hunter.  London,  1852. 

"  The  Literature  and  Romance  of  Northern  Europe, 
&c.;  with  copious  specimens  of  the  most  celebrated 
Histories,  Eomances,  Popular  Legends  and  Tales, 
old  Chivalrous  Ballads,"  &c.  By  William  &  Mary 
Howitt.  2  vols.  London,  1852. 

u  The  Pictorial  Book  of  Ancient  Ballad  Poetry  of  Great 
Britain,  Historical,  Traditional,  and  Romantic:  to  which 
are  added  a  Selection  of  Modern  Imitations,  and  some 
Translations."  By  J.  S.  Moore.  London,  1853. 

"  The  Songs  of  Scotland  adapted  to  their  appropriate 
Melodies,"  &c.  Illustrated  with  Historical,  Bio 
graphical,  and  Critical  Notices.  By  George  Far- 
quhar  Graham.  3  vols.  Edinburgh,  1854-6 

"  Songs  from  the  Dramatists."  Edited  by  Robert  Bell.  An 
notated  Edition  of  the  English  Poets.  London,  1854. 

"  Popular  Music  of  the  Olden  Time ;  a  Collection  of 
Ancient  Songs,  Ballads,  and  Dance  Tunes,  illustra 
tive  of  the  National  Music  of  England.  With  short 
introductions  to  the  different  reigns,  and  notices  of 
the  airs  from  writers  of  the  16th  and  17th  cen 
turies.  Also  a  short  account  of  the  Minstrels." 
By  W.  Chappell.  London.  Begun,  1855.  Com 
plete  in  2  vols. 

"  Reliques  of  Ancient  Poetry,  &c.  (Percy's.)  To  which  is 
now  added  a  Supplement  of  many  curious  Historical  and 
Narrative  Ballads,  reprinted  from  Rare  Copies."  Phila 
delphia,  1855. 

"Early  Ballads  illustrative  of  History,  Traditions  and 
Customs."  By  R.  Bell.  Annotated  Edition  of  the  English 
Poets.  London,  1856. 

u  Ballads   and  Songs.    By  David  Mallet.    A  new  Edition, 


BALLADS    AND    SONGS.  XXXI 

with  Notes  and  Illustrations  and  a  Memoir  of  the  Author." 
By  Frederick  Dinsdale.  London,  1857. 

"  Ancient  Poems,  Ballads,  and  Songs  of  the  Peasantry  of 
England.  Edited  by  Robert  Bell."  London,  1857. 

4  The  Ballads  of  Scotland.  Edited  by  William  Edmondstoune 
Aytoun."  2  vols.  Edinburgh  and  London,  1858.  2d  ed., 
1859. 

"  The  Romantic  Scottish  Ballads:  Their  Epoch  and  Author 
ship.  Edinburgh  Papers.  By  Robert  Chambers."  Lond. 
&  Ed.  1859. 

"The  Romantic  Scottish  Ballads  and  the  Lady  Wardlaw 
Heresy.  By  Norval  Clyne."  Aberdeen,  1859. 

"Political  Poems  and  Songs  relating  to  English  History, 
composed  during  the  Period  from  the  Accession  of  Edward 
III.  to  that  of  Richard  III."  By  Thomas  Wright.  Vol.  I. 
London,  1859.  (Published  by  the  British  Government.) 

The  Ballads  and  Songs  of  Yorkshire.  By  C.  J.  D.  Ingle- 
dew.  (Announced.) 

The  Jacobite  Minstrelsy  of  Scotland.  By  Charles  Mackay 
(Announced.) 

The  Gentleman's  Magazine,  *  The  Scots  Magazine,  The 
Retrospective  Review,  The  British  Bibliographer,  Censura 
Literaria,  Restituta,  Notes  and  Queries,  &c. 


The  full  titles  of  the  principal  collections  of  ballad -poetry 
in  other  languages,  referred  to  in  these  volumes,  are  as  fol 
lows  :  — 
"  Udvalgte   Danske  Viser  fra  Middelalderen ;    efter 

A.  S.  Vedels  og  P.  Syvs  trykte  Udgaver  og  efter 

haandskrevne  Samlinger  udgivne  paa  ny  af  Abra- 

hamson,  Nyerup,  og  Rahbek."     Copenhagen,  1812- 

1814.     5  vols. 
DANMARKS    GAMLE    FOLKEVISER,    UDGIVNE    AF 

SVEND  GRUNDTVIG.     2  vols.,  and  the  first  part  of 

the  third.     Copenhagen,  1853-58. 


XXX11   COLLECTIONS  OF  BALLADS  AND  SONGS. 

"  Svenska  Folk- Visor  fran    Forntiden,  samlade  och 

utgifne  af  Er.  Gust.  Geijer  och  Arv.  Aug.  Afzelius." 

Stockholm,  1814-1816.     3  vols. 
"  Svenska  Fornsanger.     En  Samling  af  Kampavisor, 

Folk- Visor,  Lekar    och  Dansar,  samt    Barn-    och 

Vall-Sanger.     Utgifne  af  Adolf  Iwar  Arwidsson." 

Stockholm,  1834-1842.     3  vols. 
"  Altdanische  Heldenlieder,  Balladen,  und  Mahrchen, 

iibersetzt  von  Wilhelm  Carl  Grimm."     Heidelberg, 

1811. 
"  Des  Knaben  Wunderhorn.     Alte  deutsche  Lieder." 

Arnim  &  Brentano.     3  vols.     Heidelberg,  1806-8. 

2ded.  of  first  part  in  1819. 
"Die  Volkslieder  der  Deutschen,  etc.      Herausgege- 

ben  durch  Friedrich  Karl  Freiherrn  von  Erlach." 

Mannheim,  1834-36.     5  vols. 
"  Versuch   einer   geschichtlichen    Charakteristik    der 

Volkslieder    Gerinanischer    Nationen,    mit    einer 

tJebersicht  der  Lieder   aussereuropaischer  Volker- 

schaften."     Von  Talvj.     Leipzig,  1840. 
"  Schlesische  Volkslieder   mit  Melodien.      Aus   dem 

Munde  des  Volks  gesammelt  und  herausgegeben  von 

Hoffmann   von   Fallersleben   und   Ernst  Richter." 

Leipzig,  1842. 
"  Alte  hoch-  und  niederdeutsche  Volkslieder,  in  Fiinf 

Biichern,    herausgegeben    von    Ludwig    Uhland." 

2  vols.     Stuttgart,  1844-5. 
"  Deutscher  Liederhort.     Auswahl  der  vorziiglichern 

deutschen    Volkslieder  aus   der   Vorzeit  und   der 

Gegenwart  mit  ihren  eigenthumlichen  Melodien." 

Von  Ludwig  Erk.     Berlin,  1856. 
"  Niederlandische  Volkslieder.      Gesammelt  und  er- 

lautert  von  Hoffmann  von  Fallersleben."     2d  ed. 

Hannover,  1856. 


BOOK   I 


THE  BOY  AND  THE  MANTLE. 


No  incident  is  more  common  in  romantic  fiction, 
than  the  employment  of  some  magical  contrivance  as  a 
test  of  conjugal  fidelity,  or  of  constancy  in  love.  In 
some  romances  of  the  Round  Table,  and  tales  founded 
upon  them,  this  experiment  is  performed  by  means 
either  of  an  enchanted  horn,  of  such  properties  that 
no  dishonoured  husband  or  unfaithful  wife  can  drink 
from  it  without  spilling,  or  of  a  mantle  which  will  fit 
none  but  chaste  women.  The  earliest  known  instances 
of  the  use  of  these  ordeals  are  afforded  by  the  Lai 
du  Corn,  by  Robert  Bikez,  a  French  minstrel  of  the 
twelfth  or  thirteenth  century,  and  the  Fabliau  du 
Mantel  MautaiM,  which,  in  the  opinion  of  a  competent 
critic,  dates  from  the  second  half  of  the  thirteenth  cen 
tury,  and  is  only  the  older  lay  worked  up  into  a  new 
shape.  (Wolf,  Ueber  die  Lais,  327,  sq.,  342,  sq.)  We 
are  not  to  suppose,  however,  that  either  of  these  pieces 
presents  us  with  the  primitive  form  of  this  humorous 
invention.  Robert  Bikez  tells  us  that  he  learned  his 
story  from  an  abbot,  and  that  "  noble  ecclesiast"  stood 


4  THE   BOY    AND    THE   MANTLE. 

but  one  further  back  in  a  line  of  tradition  which 
curiosity  will  never  follow  to  its  source.  We  shall 
content  ourselves  with  noticing  the  most  remarkable 
cases  of  the  use  of  these  and  similar  talismans  in  imagi 
native  literature. 

In  the  Roman  de  Tristan,  a  composition  of  unknown 
antiquity,  the  frailty  of  nearly  all  the  ladies  at  the  court 
of  King  Marc  is  exposed  by  their  essaying  a  draught 
from  the  marvellous  horn,  (see  the  English  Morte  Ar 
thur,  Southey's  ed.  i.  297.)  In  the  Roman  de  Perce 
val,  the  knights,  as  well  as  the  ladies,  undergo  this  pro 
bation.  From  some  one  of  the  chivalrous  romances 
Ariosto  adopted  the  wonderful  vessel  into  his  Orlando, 
(xlii.  102,  sq.,  xliii.  31,  sq.,)  and  upon  his  narrative 
La  Fontaine  founded  the  tale  and  the  comedy  of  La 
Coupe  Enchantee.  In  German,  we  have  two  versions 
of  the  same  story, — one,  an  episode  in  the  Krone  of 
Heinrich  vom  Tiirlein,  thought  to  have  been  borrowed 
from  the  Perceval  of  Chretien  de  Troyes,  (Die  Sage 
vom  Zaubcrbecher,  in  Wolf,  Ueber  die  Lais,  378,)  and 
another,  which  we  have  not  seen,  in  Bruns,  Beitrage 
zur  kritischen  Bearbeitung  alter  Handschriften,  ii.  139  ; 
while  in  English,  it  is  represented  by  the  highly  amus 
ing  "  bowrd, "  which  we  are  about  to  print,  and  which 
we  have  called  The  Horn  of  King  Arthur.  The  forms 
of  the  tale  of  the  Mantle  are  not  so  numerous.  The 
fabliau  already  mentioned  was  reduced  to  prose  in 
the  sixteenth  century,  and  published  at  Lyons,  (in 
1577,)  as  Le  Manteau  mal  tailli,  (Legrand's  Fabliaux, 
3d  ed.,i.  126,)  and  under  this  title,  or  that  of  Le  Court 
Mantel,  is  very  well  known.  An  old  fragment  (Der 
Mantel)  is  given  in  Haupt  and  Hoffmann's  Altdeutsche 
Blatter,  ii.  217,  and  the  story  is  also  in  Bruns  Beitrage. 


THE    BOY  AND    THE   MANTLE.  5 

Lastly,  we  find  the  legends  of  the  horn  and  the  mantle 
united,  as  in  the  German  ballad  Die  Ausgleichung, 
(Des  Knaben  Wunderhorn,  i.  389,)  and  in  the  English 
ballad  of  The  Boy  and  The  Mantle,  where  a  magical 
knife  is  added  to  the  other  curiosities.  All  three  of 
these,  by  the  way,  are  claimed  by  the  Welsh  as  a  part 
of  the  insignia  of  Ancient  Britain,  and  the  special 
property  of  Tegau  Eurvron,  the  wife  of  Caradog  with 
the  strong  arm.  (Jones,  Bardic  Museum,  p.  49.) 

In  other  departments  of  romance,  many  other  ob 
jects  are  endowed  with  the  same  or  an  analogous  vir 
tue.  In  Indian  and  Persian  story,  the  test  of  inno 
cence  is  a  red  lotus-flower;  in  Amadis,  a  garland, 
which  fades  on  the  brow  of  the  unfaithful ;  in  Perce- 
forest,  a  rose.  The  Lay  of  the  Rose  in  Perceforest, 
is  the  original  (according  to  Schmidt)  of  the  much- 
praised  tale  of  Senece,  Camille,  ou  la  Maniere  de  filer 
le  parfait  Amour,  (1695,) — in  which  a  magician  pre 
sents  a  jealous  husband  with  a  portrait  in  wax,  that 
will  indicate  by  change  of  color  the  infidelity  of  his 
wife, — and  suggested  the  same  device  in  the  twenty- 
first  novel  of  Bandello,  (Part  First,)  on  the  translation 
of  which  in  Painter's  Palace  of  Pleasure,  (vol.  ii.  No. 
28,)  Massinger  founded  his  play  of  The  Picture. 
Again,  in  the  tale  of  Zeyn  Alasman  and  the  King  of 
the  Genii,  in  the  Arabian  Nights,  the  means  of  proof 
is  a  mirror,  that  reflects  only  the  image  of  a  spotless 
maiden ;  in  that  of  the  carpenter  and  the  king's  daugh 
ter,  in  the  Gesta  Romanorum,  (c.  69,)  a  shirt,  which 
remains  clean  and  whole  as  long  as  both  parties  are 
true  ;  in  Palmerin  of  England,  a  cup  of  tears,  which 
becomes  dark  in  the  hands  of  an  inconstant  lover ;  in 
the  Fairy  Queen,  the  famous  girdle  of  Florimel ;  in 


6  THE    BOY   AND    THE    MANTLE. 

Horn  andRimnild  (Ritson,  Metrical  Romances,  iii.  301,) 
as  well  as  in  one  or  two  ballads  in  this  collection,  the 
stone  of  a  ring ;  in  a  German  ballad,  Die  Krone  der 
Kbnigin  von  A/ion,  (Erlach,  Volkslieder  der  Deutschen, 
i.  132,)  a  golden  crown,  that  will  fit  the  head  of  no  in 
continent  husband.  Without  pretending  to  exhaust 
the  subject,  we  may  add  three  instances  of  a  different 
kind :  the  Valley  in  the  romance  of  Lancelot,  which 
being  entered  by  a  faithless  lover  would  hold  him  im 
prisoned  forever ;  the  Cave  in  Amadis  of  Gaul,  from 
which  the  disloyal  were  driven  by  torrents  of  flame  ; 
and  the  Well  in  Horn  and  Rimnild,  (ibid.)  which  was 
to  show  the  shadow  of  Horn,  if  he  proved  false. 

In  conclusion,  we  will  barely  allude  to  the  singular 
anecdote  related  by  Herodotus,  (ii.  Ill,)  of  Phero,  the 
son  of  Sesostris,  in  which  the  experience  of  King  Maro 
and  King  Arthur  is  so  curiously  anticipated.  In  the 
early  ages,  as  Dunlop  has  remarked,  some  experiment 
for  ascertaining  the  fidelity  of  women,  in  defect  of  evi 
dence,  seems  really  to  have  been  resorted  to.  "  By 
the  Levitical  law,"  (Numbers  v.  11-31,)  continues  that 
accurate  writer,  "  there  was  prescribed  a  mode  of  trial, 
which  consisted  in  the  suspected  person  drinking  wa 
ter  in  the  tabernacle.  The  mythological  fable  of  the 
trial  by  the  Stygian  fountain,  which  disgraced  the 
guilty  by  the  waters  rising  so  as  to  cover  the  laurel 
wreath  of  the  unchaste  female  who  dared  the  exami 
nation,  probably  had  its  origin  in  some  of  the  early  in 
stitutions  of  Greece  or  Egypt.  Hence  the  notion  was 
adopted  in  the  Greek  romances,  the  heroines  of  which 
were  invariably  subjected  to  a  magical  test  of  this  na 
ture,  which  is  one  of  the  few  particulars  in  which  any 
similarity  of  incident  can  be  traced  between  the  Greek 


THE    BOY   AND    THE   MANTLE.  7 

novels  and  the  romances  of  chivalry.'*  See  DUNLOP, 
History  of  Fiction,  London,  1814,  i.  239,  sq.  ;  LE- 
GRAND,  Fabliaux,  3d  ed.,  i.  149,  sq.,  161 ;  SCHMIDT, 
Jahrbiicher  der  Literatur,  xxix.  121  ;  WOLF,  Ueber 
die  Lais,  174-177 ;  and,  above  all,  GRAESSE'S 
Sagenkreise  des  Mittelalters,  185,  sq. 

The  Boy  and  the  Mantle  was  "  printed  verbatim" 
from  the  Percy  MS.,  in  the  Reliques  of  Ancient  Eng 
lish  Poetry,  iii.  38. 


THE    BOY   AND    THE    MANTLE. 


IN  the  third  day  of  May, 
To  Carleile  did  come 
A  kind  curteous  child, 
That  cold  much  of  wisdome. 

A  kirtle  and  a  mantle 
This  child  had  uppon, 
With  brouches  and  ringes 
Full  richelye  bedone. 

He  had  a  sute  of  silke 
About  his  middle  drawne  ; 
Without  he  cold  of  curtesye, 
He  thought  itt  much  shame. 

"  God  speed  thee,  King  Arthur, 
Sitting  at  thy  meate  : 
And  the  goodly  Queene  Gue"never 
I  cannott  her  forgett. 

"  I  tell  you,  lords,  in  this  hall, 
I  hett  you  all  to  heede, 
Except  you  be  the  more  surer, 
Is  you  for  to  dread." 

He  plucked  out  of  his  poterner, 
And  longer  wold  not  dwell ; 

MS.  Ver.  7,  branches.     V.  18,  heate.    V.  21,  poterver. 


THE    BOY   AND    THE    MANTLE. 

He  pulled  forth  a  pretty  mantle. 
Betweene  two  nut-shells. 

"  Have  thou  here,  King  Arthur, 
Have  thou  heere  of  mee  ; 
Give  itt  to  thy  comely  queene, 
Shapen  as  itt  is  alreadye. 

Itt  shall  never  become  that  wiffe, 
That  hath  once  done  amisse  :  "  — 
Then  every  knight  in  the  kings  court 
Began  to  care  for  his. 

Forth  came  dame  Guenever; 
To  the  mantle  shee  her  hied ; 
The  ladye  shee  was  newfangle, 
But  yett  shee  was  affrayd. 

When  shee  had  taken  the  mantle, 
She  stoode  as  shee  had  beene  madd : 
It  was  from  the  top  to  the  toe, 
As  sheeres  had  itt  shread. 

One  while  was  it  gule, 
Another  while  was  itt  greene ; 
Another  while  was  it  wadded ; 
111  itt  did  her  beseeme. 


MS.  V.  32,  his  wiffe.    V.  34,  bided.     V.  41,  gaule. 


10  THE   BOY   AND    THE    MANTLE. 

Another  while  was  it  blacke, 

And  bore  the  worst  hue  : 
"  By  my  troth,"  quoth  King  Arthur, 
"  I  think  thou  be  not  true." 

She  threw  down  the  mantle, 
That  bright  was  of  blee ; 
Fast,  with  a  rudd  redd, 
To  her  chamber  can  shee  flee. 

She  curst  the  weaver  and  the  walker 
That  clothe  that  had  wrought, 
And  bade  a  vengeance  on  his  crowne 
That  hither  hath  itt  brought. 

"  I  had  rather  be  in  a  wood, 
Under  a  greene  tree, 
Then  in  King  Arthurs  court 
Shamed  for  to  bee." 

Kay  called  forth  his  ladye, 

And  bade  her  come  neere ; 

Saies,  "  Madam,  and  thou  be  guiltye, 

I  pray  thee  hold  thee  there." 

Forth  came  his  ladye, 
Shortlye  and  anon ; 
Boldlye  to  the  mantle 
Then  is  shee  gone. 

When  she  had  tane  the  mantle, 
And  cast  it  her  about, 


THE   BOY    AND    THE    MANTLE.  11 

Then  was  shee  bare 
:  Before  all  the  rout/ 

Then  every  knight, 

That  was  in  the  kings  court, 

Talked,  laughed,  and  showted  "& 

Full  oft  att  that  sport. 

Shee  threw  downe  the  mantle, 

That  bright  was  of  blee  ; 

Fast,  with  a  red  rudd, 

To  her  chamber  can  shee  flee.  * 

Forth  came  an  old  knight, 
Pattering  ore  a  creede, 
And  he  preferred  to  this  litle  boy 
Twenty  markes  to  his  meede, 

And  all  the  time  of  the  Christmasse, 
Willinglye  to  ffeede  ;  & 

For  why,  this  mantle  might 
Doe  his  wiffe  some  need. 

When  she  had  tane  the  mantle, 

Of  cloth  that  was  made,  w 

Shee  had  no  more  left  on  her, 

But  a  tassell  and  a  threed  : 

Then  every  knight  in  the  kings  court 

Bade  evill  might  shee  speed. 

MS.  Ver.  75,  langed. 


12  THE    BOY    AND    THE    MANTLE. 

Shee  threw  downe  the  mantle,  ^ 

That  bright  was  of  blee  ; 
And  fast,  with  a  redd  rudd, 
To  her  chamber  can  shee  flee. 

Craddocke  called  forth  his  ladye,         100 
And  bade  her  come  in ; 
Saith,  "  Winne  this  mantle,  ladye, 
With  a  little  dinne. 

Winne  this  mantle,  ladye, 

And  it  shal  be  thine, 

If  thou  never  did  amisse  ios 

Since  thou  wast  mine." 

Forth  came  Craddockes  ladye, 

Shortlye  and  anon ; 

But  boldlye  to  the  mantle 

Then  is  shee  gone.  no 

When  she  had  tane  the  mantle, 

And  cast  it  her  about, 

Upp  at  her  great  toe 

It  began  to  crinkle  and  crowt : 

Shee  said,  "  Bowe  downe,  mantle,       us 

And  shame  me  not  for  nought. 

Once  I  did  amisse, 

I  tell  you  certainlye, 

When  I  kist  Craddockes  mouth 

Under  a  greene  tree  ;  uo 


THE   BOY   AND    THE    MANTLE.  13 

When  I  kist  Craddockes  mouth 
Before  he  manyed  mee." 

When  shee  had  her  shreeven, 

And  her  sines  shee  had  tolde, 

The  mantle  stoode  about  her  125 

Right  as  shee  wold, 

Seemelye  of  coulour, 

Glittering  like  gold : 

Then  every  knight  in  Arthurs  court 

Did  her  behold.  iso 

Then  spake  dame  Guenever 
To  Arthur  our  king ; 
"  She  hath  tane  yonder  mantle 
Not  with  right,  but  with  wronge. 

See  you  not  yonder  woman,  135 

That  maketh  her  self  soe  l  cleane '  ? 
I  have  seene  tane  out  of  her  bedd 
Of  men  fiveteene ; 

Priests,  clarkes,  and  wedded  men 
From  her,  bydeene :  140 

Yett  shee  taketh  the  mantle, 
And  maketh  her  self  cleane." 

MS.  Ver.  134,  wright.    V.  136,  cleare. 


14  THE    BOY   AND    THE    MANTLE. 

Then  spake  the  little  boy, 
That  kept  the  mantle  in  hold ; 
Sayes,  "  King,  chasten  thy  wiffe,          us 
Of  her  words  shee  is  to  bold : 

Shee  is  a  bitch  and  a  witch, 

And  a  whore  bold : 

King,  in  thine  owne  hall 

Thou  art  a  cuckold."  150 

The  little  boy  stoode 
Looking  out  a  dore  ; 
1  And  there  as  he  was  lookinge 
He  was  ware  of  a  wyld  bore.' 

He  was  ware  of  a  wyld  bore,  iss 

Wold  have  werryed  a  man  : 

He  pulld  forth  a  wood  kniffe, 

Fast  thither  that  he  ran  : 

He  brought  in  the  bores  head, 

And  quitted  him  like  a  man.  iso 

He  brought  in  the  bores  head, 

And  was  wonderous  bold : 

He  said  there  was  never  a  cuckolds  kniffe 

Carve  itt  that  cold. 

Some  rubbed  their  knives  iss 

Uppon  a  whetstone : 


THE    BOY   AND    THE    MANTLE.  15 

Some  threw  them  under  the  table, 
And  said  they  had  none. 

King  Arthur  and  the  child 

Stood  looking  them  upon ;  170 

All  their  knives  edges 

Turned  backe  againe. 

Craddocke  had  a  little  knive 

Of  iron  and  of  steele  ; 

He  britled  the  bores  head  175 

Wonderous  weele, 

That  every  knight  in  the  kings  court 

Had  a  morssell. 

The  little  boy  had  a  home, 

Of  red  gold  that  ronge  :  i*> 

He  said  there  was  "  noe  cuckolde 

Shall  drinke  of  my  home, 

But  he  shold  it  sheede, 

Either  behind  or  beforne." 

Some  shedd  on  their  shoulder,  iss 

And  some  on  their  knee ; 

He  that  cold  not  hitt  his  mouthe, 

Put  it  in  his  eye : 

And  he  that  was  a  cuckold 

Every  man  might  him  see.  i*- 

MS.  V.  I75,0rbirtled. 


16  THE    BOY   AND    THE   MANTLE. 

Craddocke  wan  the  home, 

And  the  bores  head  : 

His  ladie  wan  the  mantle 

Unto  her  meede. 

Everye  such  a  lovely  ladye 

God  send  her  well  to  speede. 


THE  HORN  OF  KING  ARTHUR. 

MS.  Ashmole,  61,  fol.  59  to  62. 


THIS  amusing  piece  was  first  published  entire  in 
Hartshorne's  Ancient  Metrical  Tales,  p.  209,  but  with 
great  inaccuracies.  It  is  there  called  The  Cokwolds 
Daunce.  A  few  extracts  had  previously  been  given 
from  the  MS.,  in  the  Notes  to  Orfeo  and  Heurodis, 
in  Laing's.  Early  Popular  Poetry  of  Scotland.  Mr. 
Wright  contributed  a  corrected  edition  to  Karajan's 
FmUingsgabe  fur  Freunde  alterer  Literatur.  That 
work  not  being  at  the  moment  obtainable,  the  Editor 
was  saved  from  the  necessity  of  reprinting  or  amend 
ing  a  faulty  text,  by  the  kindness  of  J.  O.  Halliwell, 
Esq.,  who  sent  him  a  collation  of  Hartshorne's  copy 
with  the  Oxford  manuscript. 

ALL  that  wyll  of  solas  lere, 
Herkyns  now,  and  $e  schall  here, 

And  }e  kane  vnderstond  ; 
Off  a  bowrd  I  wyll  3011  schew, 
That  ys  full  gode  and  trew,  5 

That  fell  some  tyme  in  Ynglond. 

VOL.  I.  2 


18  THE    HORN    OF   KING   ARTHUR. 

Kynge  Arthour  was  off  grete  honour, 
Off  castellis  and  of  many  a  toure, 

And  full  wyde  iknow  ; 
A  gode  ensample  I  wyll  }ou  sey, 
What  chanse  befell  hym  one  a  dey  ; 

Herkyn  to  my  saw  ! 


Cokwoldes  he  louyd,  as  I  $ou 

He  honouryd  them,  both  dey  and  nyght, 

In  all  maner  of  thyng  ; 
And  as  I  rede  in  story, 
He  was  kokwold  sykerly  ; 

Ffor  sothe  it  is  no  lesyng. 

Herkyne,  seres,  what  I  sey  ; 
Her  may  }e  here  solas  and  pley, 

Iff  }e  wyll  take  gode  hede  ; 
Kyng  Arthour  had  a  bugyll  horn, 
That  ever  mour  stod  hym  be  forn, 

Were  so  that  ever  he  ^ede. 

Ffor  when  he  was  at  the  bord  sete, 
Anon  the  home  schuld  be  fette, 

Ther  off  that  he  myght  drynk  ; 
Ffor  myche  crafte  he  couth  thereby, 
And  ofte  tymes  the  treuth  he  sey  ; 

Non  other  couth  he  thynke. 

Iff  any  cokwold  drynke  of  it, 
Spyll  he  schuld,  withouten  lette  ; 

26,  sette.     See  59,  211. 


THE    HORN    OF   KING   ARTHUK.  19 

Therfor  thei  wer  not  glade  ; 
Gret  dispyte  thei  had  therby, 
Because  it  dyde  them  vilony,  35 

And  made  them  oft  tymes  sade. 

When  the  kyng  wold  hafe  solas, 
The  bugyll  was  fett  into  the  plas, 

To  make  solas  and  game  ; 
And  then  changyd  the  cokwoldes  chere  ;     40 
The  kyng  them  callyd  ferre  and  nere, 

Lordynges,  by  ther  name. 

Than  men  myght  se  game  inow^e, 
When  every  cokwold  on  other  leu^e, 

And  }it  thei  schamyd  sore  :  « 

Where  euer  the  cokwoldes  wer  sought, 
Befor  the  kyng  thei  were  brought, 

Both  lesse  and  more. 

Kyng  Arthour  than,  verament, 

Ordeynd,  throw  hys  awne  assent,  BO 

Ssoth  as  I  $ow  sey, 

The  tabull  dormounte  withouten  lette  ; 
Ther  at  the  cokwoldes  wer  sette, 

To  have  solas  and  pley. 

Ffor  at  the  bord  schuld  be  non  other  x 

Bot  euery  cokwold  and  hys  brother  ; 
To  tell  treuth  I  must  nedes  ; 

38,  sett.    56,  brothers. 


20  THE    HORN    OF   KING   ARTHUR. 

And  when  the  cokwoldes  wer  sette, 
Garlandes  of  wylos  sculd  be  fette, 
And  sett  vpon  ther  hedes. 

Off  the  best  mete,  withoute  lesyng, 
That  stode  on  bord  befor  the  kyng, 

Both  ferr  and  nere, 
To  the  cokwoldes  he  sente  anon, 
And  bad  them  be  glad  euerychon, 

Ffor  his  sake  make  gode  chere. 

And  seyd,  "  Lordyngs,  for  ^our  lyues, 
Be  neuer  the  wrother  with  $our  wyues, 

Ffor  no  manner  of  nede : 
Off  women  com  duke  and  kyng  ; 
I  jow  tell  without  lesyng, 

Of  them  com  owre  manned. 

So  it  befell  sertenly, 

The  duke  off  Glosseter  com  in  hy$e, 

To  the  courte  with  full  gret  my^ht ; 
He  was  reseyued  at  the  kyngs  palys, 
With  mych  honour  and  grete  solas, 

With  lords  that  were  well  dyg^ht. 

With  the  kyng  ther  dyde  he  dwell, 
Bot  how  long  I  can  not  tell, 

Therof  knaw  I  non  name  ; 
Off  kyng  Arthour  a  wonder  case, 
Frendes,  herkyns  how  it  was, 

Ffor  now  begynes  game. 


THE    HORN    OF   KING    ARTHUR.  21 

Vppon  a  dey,  withouten  lette,  86 

The  duke  with  the  kyng  was  sette, 

At  mete  with  mykill  pride ; 
He  lukyd  abowte  wonder  faste, 
Hys  syght  on  euery  syde  he  caste 

To  them  that  sate  besyde.  90 

The  kyng  aspyed  the  erle  anon, 
And  fast  he  low^he  the  erle  vpon, 

And  bad  he  schuld  be  glad  ; 
And  yet,  for  all  hys  grete  honour, 
Cokwold  was  Kyng  Arthour,  95 

Ne  galle  non  he  had. 

So  at  the  last,  the  duke  he  brayd, 
And  to  the  kyng  thes  wordes  sayd  ; 

He  myght  no  lenger  forbere  ; 
"  Syr,  what  hath  thes  men  don,  100 

That  syche  garlondes  thei  were  vpon  ? 

That  skyll  wold  I  lere." 

The  kyng  seyd  the  erle  to, 
"  Syr,  non  hurte  they  haue  do, 

Ffor  this  was  thrush  a  chans.  105 

Sertes  thei  be  fre  men  all, 
Ffor  non  of  them  hath  no  gall ; 

Therfor  this  is  ther  penans. 

"  Ther  wyves  hath  ben  merchandabull, 
And  of  ther  ware  compenabull ;  110 

98,  MS.  spake. 


22  THE    HORN    OF    KING    ARTHUR. 

Methinke  it  is  non  herme ; 
A  man  of  lufe  that  wold  them  craue, 
Hastely  he  schuld  it  haue, 

Ffor  thei  couth  not  hym  wern. 

"  All  theyr  wyves,  sykerlyke,  i« 

Hath  vsyd  the  backefysyke, 

Whyll  thes  men  were  oute  ; 
And  ofte  they  haue  draw  that  draught, 
To  vse  well  the  lechers  craft, 

With  rubyng  of  ther  toute.  120 

"  Syr,"  he  seyd,  "  now  haue  I  redd ; 
Ete  we  now,  and  make  vs  glad, 

And  euery  man  fle  care ; " 
The  duke  seyd  to  hym  anon, 
"  Than  be  thei  cokwoldes,  everychon  ;  "  125 

The  kyng  seyd,  "  hold  the  there." 

The  kyng  than,  after  the  erlys  word, 
Send  to  the  cokwolds  bord, 

To  make  them  mery  among, 
All  manner  of  mynstralsy,  iso 

To  glad  the  cokwolds  by  and  by 

With  herpe,  fydell,  and  song  : 

And  bad  them  take  no  greffe, 
Bot  all  with  loue  and  with  leffe, 

Euery  man  .  .  with  other ;  135 

115,  MS.  baskefysyke.     135,  word  wanting. 


THE    HORN    OF    KING    ARTHUR.  23 

Ffor  after  mete,  without  distans, 
The  cockwolds  schuld  together  danse, 
Euery  man  with  hys  brother. 

Than  began  a  nobull  game  : 

The  cockwolds  together  came  no 

Befor  the  erle  and  the  kyng ; 
In  skerlet  kyrtells  over  one, 
The  cokwoldes  stodyn  euerychon, 

Redy  vnto  the  dansyng. 

Than  seyd  the  kyng  in  hye,  us 

"  Go  fyll  my  bugyll  hastely, 

And  bryng  it  to  my  hond. 
I  wyll  asey  with  a  gyne 
All  the  cokwolds  that  her  is  in  ; 

To  know  them  wyll  I  fond."  wo 

Than  seyd  the  erle,  "  for  charyte, 
In  what  skyll,  tell  me, 

A  cokwold  may  I  know  ?  " 
To  the  erle  the  kyng  ansuerd, 
"  Syr,  be  myn  hore  berd,  155 

Thou  schall  se  within  a  throw." 

The  bugyll  was  brought  the  kyng  to  hond. 
Then  seyd  the  kyng,  "  I  vnderstond, 

Thys  home  that  }e  here  se, 
Ther  is  no  cockwold,  fer  lie  nere,  ieo 

Here  of  to  drynke  hath  no  power, 

As  wyde  as  Crystiante, 


24  THE   HORN    OF   KING   ARTHUR. 

"  Bot  he  schall  spyll  on  euery  syde  ; 
Ffor  any  cas  that  may  betyde, 

Schall  non  therof  avanse."  is* 

And  }it,  for  all  hys  grete  honour, 
Hymselfe,  noble  kyng  Arthour, 

Hath  forteynd  syche  a  chans. 

"  Syr  erle,"  he  seyd,  "  take  and  begyn." 
He  seyd,  "  nay,  be  seynt  Austyn,  iro 

That  wer  to  me  vylony ; 
Not  for  all  a  reme  to  wyn, 
Befor  you  I  schuld  begyn, 

Ffor  honour  off  my  curtassy." 

Kyng  Arthour  ther  he  toke  the  horn,          175 
And  dyde  as  he  was  wont  beforn, 

Bot  ther  was  }it  gon  a  gyle  : 
He  wend  to  haue  dronke  of  the  best, 
Bot  sone  he  spyllyd  on  hys  brest, 

Within  a  lytell  whyle.  MO 

The  cokwoldes  lokyd  iche  on  other, 

And  thought  the  kyng  was  then*  own  brother, 

And  glad  thei  wer  of  that : 
"  He  hath  vs  scornyd  many  a  tyme, 
And  now  he  is  a  cokwold  fyne,  iss 

To  were  a  cokwoldes  hate." 

The  quene  was  therof  schamyd  sore  ; 
Sche  changyd  hyr  colour  lesse  and  more, 

178,  Bot  he. 


THE   HORN    OF    KING   ARTHUR.  25 

And  wold  haue  ben  a  wey. 
Therwith  the  kyng  gan  hyr  behold,  ia> 

And  seyd  he  schuld  neuer  be  so  bold, 

The  soth  agene  to  sey. 

"  Cokwoldes  no  mour  I  wyll  repreue, 
Ffor  I  ame  ane,  and  aske  no  leue, 

Ffor  all  my  rentes  and  londys.  isw 

Lordyngs,  all  now  may  ^e  know 
That  I  may  dance  in  the  cokwold  row, 

And  take  3011  by  the  handes." 

Than  seyd  thei  all  at  a  word, 

That  cokwoldes  schuld  begynne  the  bord,  200 

And  sytt  hyest  in  the  halle. 
"  Go  we,  lordyngs,  all  [and]  same, 
And  dance  to  make  vs  gle  and  game, 

Ffor  cokwolds  haue  no  galle." 

And  after  that  sone  anon,  209 

The  kyng  causyd  the  cokwolds  ychon 

To  wesch  withouten  les  ; 
Ffor  ought  that  euer  may  betyde, 
He  sett  them  by  hys  awne  syde, 

Vp  at  the  hy^e  dese.  210 

The  kyng  hymselff  a  gurlond  fette  ; 
Uppon  hys  hede  he  it  sette, 

Ffor  it  myght  be  non  other, 
And  seyd,  "  Lordyngs,  sykerly, 


26  THE    HORN    OF   KING   ARTHUR. 

We  be  all  off  a  freyr j  ;  215 

I  ame  ^our  awne  brother. 

"  Be  Jhesu  Cryst  that  is  aboffe, 
That  man  aught  me  gode  loffe 

That  ley  by  my  quene  : 
I  wer  worthy  hym  to  honour,  220 

Both  in  castell  and  in  towre, 

With  rede,  skerlet  and  grene. 

"  Ffor  him  he  helpyd,  when  I  was  forth, 
To  cher  my  wyfe  and  make  her  myrth ; 

Ffor  women  louys  wele  pley  ;  225 

And  therfor,  serys,  haue  ^e  no  dowte 
Bot  many  schall  dance  in  the  cokwoldes  rowte, 

Both  by  nyght  and  dey. 

"  And  therefor,  lordyngs,  take  no  care ; 
Make  we  mery  ;  for  nothing  spare  ;  230 

All  brether  in  one  rowte." 
Than  the  cokwoldes  wer  full  blythe, 
And  thankyd  God  a  hundred  syth, 

Ffor  soth  withouten  dowte. 

Euery  cokwold  seyd  to  other,  235 

"  Kyng  Arthour  is  our  awne  brother, 

Therfor  we  may  be  blyth  : " 
The  erle  off  Glowsytur  verament, 
Toke  hys  leue,  and  home  he  wente, 

And  thankyd  the  kyng  fele  sythe.  240 


THE    HORN    OF    KING    ARTHUR.  27 

Kyng  Arthour  lived  at  Karlyon, 
With  hys  cokwolds  euerychon, 

And  made  both  gam  and  gle  : 

***** 

***** 
***** 

A  knyght  ther  was  withouten  les, 

That  seruyd  at  the  kyngs  des,  2*5 

Syr  Corneus  hyght  he  ; 
He  made  this  gest  in  hys  gam, 
And  named  it  after  hys  awne  name, 

In  herpyng  or  other  gle. 

And  after,  nobull  kyng  Arthour  a» 

Lyued  and  dyed  with  honour, 

As  many  hath  don  senne, 
Both  cokwoldes  and  other  mo  : 
God  gyff  vs  grace  that  we  may  go 

To  heuyn  !     Amen,  Amen. 

241,  left  at  Skarlyon.    243,  Three  lines  omitted  in  MS. 


FRAGMENT   OF  THE    MARRIAGE   OF    SIR 
GAWAINE. 

From  Percy's  Reliques,  iii.  403. 

This  is  one  of  the  few  ballads  contained  in  the 
Percy  MS.,  which  we  have  the  pleasure  of  possess 
ing  as  it  is  there  written.  Having  first  submitted 
an  improved  copy,  "  with  large  conjectural  supple 
ments  and  corrections,"  Percy  added  this  old  frag 
ment  at  the  end  of  the  volume :  "  literally  and  exact 
ly  printed,  with  all  its  defects,  inaccuracies,  and  er 
rata,"  in  order,  as  he  triumphantly  remarks,  "  that 
such  austere  antiquaries  as  complain  that  the  ancient 
copies  have  not  been  always  rigidly  adhered  to,  may 
see  how  unfit  for  publication  many  of  the  pieces 
would  have  been,  if  all  the  blunders,  corruptions,  and 
nonsense  of  illiterate  reciters  and  transcribers  had 
been  superstitiously  retained,  without  some  attempt  to 
correct  and  amend  them." 

"  This  ballad,"  the  Editor  of  the  Reliques  goes  on 
to  say,  "  has  most  unfortunately  suffered  by  having 
half  of  every  leaf  in  this  part  of  the  MS.  torn  away ; 
and,  as  about  nine  stanzas  generally  occur  in  the 
tialf-page  now  remaining,  it  is  concluded  that  the 


MARRIAGE    OF    SIR    GAWAINE.  29 

other  half  contained  nearly  the  same  number  of  stan 
zas."  The  story  may  be  seen,  unmutilated  and  in  an 
older  form,  in  Madden's  Syr  Gawayne,  p.  298,  The 
Weddynge  of  Syr  Gawen  and  Dame  Ragnell. 

The  transformation  on  which  the  story  turns  is 
found  also  in  Chaucer's  Wife  of  Bath's  Tale,  in  Gow- 
er's  tale  of  Florent  and  the  King  of  Sicily's  Daugh 
ter  ;  (Confessio  Amantis,  Book  I.)  in  the  ballad  of 
King  Henry  (page  147  of  this  volume)  ;  and  in  an 
Icelandic  saga  of  the  Danish  king  Helgius,  quoted  by 
Scott  in  his  illustrations  to  King  Henry,  Minstrelsy,  iii. 
274. 

Voltaire  has  employed  the  same  idea  in  his  Ce  qui 
plait  aux  Dames,  but  whence  he  borrowed  it  we  are 
unable  to  say. 

Worked  over  by  some  ballad-monger  of  the  six 
teenth  century,  and  of  course  reduced  to  dish-water, 
this  tale  has  found  its  way  into  The  Crown  Garland  of 
Golden  Roses,  Part  I.  p.  68  (Percy  Society,  vol.  vi.), 
Of  a  Knight  and  a  Faire  Virgin. 


KINGE  Arthur  Hues  in  merry  Carleile, 
And  seemely  is  to  see  ; 

And  there  he  hath  with  him  Queene  Genever, 
That  bride  so  bright  of  blee. 

And  there  he  hath  with  him  Queene  Genever, 
That  bride  soe  bright  in  bower  ;  6 

And  all  his  barons  about  him  stoode, 
That  were  both  stiffe  and  stowre. 


30  THE    MARRIAGE    OF    SIR    GAWAINE. 

The  King  kept  a  royall  Christmasse, 

Of  mirth  &  great  honor  ;  10 

.  .  when  .  . 

\About  nine  stanzas  wanting.'] 

"  And  bring  me  word  what  thing  it  is 

That  women  most  desire  ; 

This  shalbe  thy  ransome,  Arthur,"  he  sayes, 
"  For  He  haue  no  other  hier."  15 

King  Arthur  then  held  vp  his  hand, 
According  thene  as  was  the  law  ; 
He  tooke  his  leaue  of  the  baron  there, 
And  homword  can  he  draw. 

And  when  he  came  to  merry  Carlile,  20 

To  his  chamber  he  is  gone ; 
And  ther  came  to  him  his  cozen,  Sir  Gawaine, 
As  he  did  make  his  mone. 

And  there  came  to  him  his  cozen,  Sir  Gawaine, 
That  was  a  curteous  knight ;  '& 

"  Why  sigh  you  soe  sore,  vnckle  Arthur,"  he  said, 

"  Or  who  hath  done  thee  vnright  ?  " 

"  0  peace !  o  peace  !  thou  gentle  Gawaine, 
That  faire  may  thee  beffall ; 
For  if  thou  knew  my  sighing  soe  deepe,          s° 
Thou  wold  not  meruaile  att  all. 

MS.  13,  Ye  a  woman.     24,  Cawaine. 


THE    MARRIAGE    OF    SIR    GAWAINE.          31 

"  Ffor  when  I  came  to  Tearne-wadling, 
A  bold  barren  there  I  fand  ; 
With  a  great  club  vpon  his  backe, 
Standing  stiffe  &  strong.  33 

"  And  he  asked  me  wether  I  wold  fight 
Or  from  him  I  shold  be  gone  ; 
Or  else  I  must  him  a  ransome  pay, 
And  soe  depart  him  from. 

"  To  fight  with  him  I  saw  noe  cause,  •» 

Me  thought  it  was  not  meet ; 
For  he  was  stiffe  and  strong  with  all ; 
His  strokes  were  nothing  sweete. 

"  Therefor  this  is  my  ransome,  Gawaine, 
I  ought  to  him  to  pay  ;  45 

I  must  come  againe,  as  I  am  sworne, 
Vpon  the  Newyeers  day. 

"  And  I  must  bring  him  word  what  thing  it  is 
\_About  nine  stanzas  wanting r.  J 

Then  King  Arthur  drest  him  for  to  ryde, 
In  one  soe  riche  array,  so 

Towards  the  foresaid  Tearne-wadling, 
That  he  might  keepe  his  day. 

And  as  he  rode  over  a  more, 
Hee  see  a  lady,  where  shee  sate, 

MS.  38,  0  else. 


32  THE   MARRIAGE    OF    SIR    GAWAINE. 

Betwixt  an  oke  and  a  greene  hollen ; 
She  was  clad  in  red  scarlett. 

Then  there  as  shold  have  stood  her  mouth, 
Then  there  was  sett  her  eye ; 
The  other  was  in  her  forhead  fast, 
The  way  that  she  might  see. 

Her  nose  was  crooked,  &  turnd  outward, 
Her  mouth  stood  foule  a-wry  ; 
A  worse  formed  lady  then  shee  was, 
Neuer  man  saw  with  his  eye. 

To  halch  vpon  him,  King  Arthur, 
This  lady  was  full  faine  ; 
But  King  Arthur  had  forgott  his  lesson, 
What  he  shold  say  againe. 

"  What  knight  art  thou,"  the  lady  sayd, 
"  That  wilt  not  speake  to  me  ? 
Of  me  [be]  thou  nothing  dismayd, 
Tho  I  be  vgly  to  see. 

"  For  I  haue  halched  you  curteouslye, 
And  you  will  not  me  againe  ; 
Yett  I  may  happen,  Sir  knight,"  shee  said, 
"  To  ease  thee  of  thy  paine." 

"  Giue  thou  ease  me,  lady,"  he  said, 
"  Or  helpe  me  any  thing, 


THE    MARRIAGE    OF    SIR    GAWAINE.  33 

Thou  shalt  haue  gentle  Gawaine,  my  cozen, 
And  marry  him  with  a  ring."  so 

«  Why  if  I  helpe  thee  not,  thou  noble  King  Ar 
thur, 
Of  thy  owne  hearts  desiringe, 

Of  gentle  Gawaine 

\_About  nine  stanzas  wanting.^ 

And  when  he  came  to  the  Tearne-wadling, 
The  baion  there  cold  he  finde  ;  35 

With  a  great  weapon  on  his  backe, 
Standinge  stiffe  and  stronge. 

And  then  he  tooke  King  Arthurs  letters  in  his 

hands, 

And  away  he  cold  them  fling  ; 
And  then  he  puld  out  a  good  browne  sword,  a> 
And  cryd  himselfe  a  king. 

And  he  sayd,  "  I  haue  thee,  &  thy  land,  Ar 
thur, 

To  doe  as  it  pleaseth  me  ; 
For  this  is  not  thy  ransome  sure, 
Therfore  yeeld  thee  to  me."  M 

And  then  bespoke  him  noble  Arthur, 
And  bade  him  hold  his  hand  ; 

MS.  85,  srinde.    97,  hands. 


34  THE    MARRIAGE    OF    SIR    GAWAINE. 

"  And  give  me  leave  to  speake  my  mind, 
In  defence  of  all  my  land." 

He  said,  "  as  I  came  over  a  more,  100 

I  see  a  lady,  where  shee  sate, 
Betweene  an  oke  &  a  green  hollen  ; 
Shee  was  clad  in  red  scarlette. 

"  And  she  says  a  woman  will  haue  her  will, 
And  this  is  all  her  cheef  desire  ;  105 

Doe  me  right,  as  thou  art  a  baron  of  sckill, 
This  is  thy  ransome,  &  all  thy  hyer." 

He  sayes,  "  an  early  vengeance  light  on  her  ! 
She  walkes  on  yonder  more  ; 
It  was  my  sister,  that  told  thee  this,  no 

She  is  a  misshapen  hore. 

"  But  heer  He  make  mine  avow  to  God, 
To  do  her  an  euill  turne  ; 
For  an  euer  I  may  thate  fowle  theefe  get, 
In  a  fyer  I  will  her  burne."  us 

[About  nine  stanzas  wanting."] 

THE    SECOND    PART. 

SIR  Lancelott,  &  Sir  Steven,  bold, 
They  rode  with  them  that  day ; 

MS.  100,  The. 


THE    MARRIAGE    OF    SIR    GAWAINE.  35 

And  the  formost  of  the  company, 
There  rode  the  steward  Kay. 

Soe  did  Sir  Banier,  &  Sir  Bore,  i* 

Sir  Garrett  with  them,  soe  gay  ; 
Soe  did  Sir  Tristeram,  that  gentle  knight, 
To  the  forrest,  fresh  &  gay. 

And  when  he  came  to  the  greene  forrest, 
Vnderneath  a  greene  holly  tree,  ias 

Their  sate  that  lady  in  red  scarlet. 
That  vnseemly  was  to  see. 

Sir  Kay  beheld  this  ladys  face, 

And  looked  vppon  her  suire,  — 
"  Whosoeuer  kisses  this  lady,"  he  sayes,  iso 

"  Of  his  kisse  he  stands  in  feare !  " 

Sir  Kay  beheld  the  lady  againe, 

And  looked  vpon  her  snout ; 
"  Whosoeuer  kisses  this  lady,"  he  saies, 
"  Of  his  kisse  he  stands  in  doubt ! "  135 

"  Peace,  cozen  Kay,"  then  said  Sir  Gawaine, 
"  Amend  thee  of  thy  life  ; 

For  there  is  a  knight  amongst  us  all, 

That  must  marry  her  to  his  wife." 

"  What !  wedd  her  to  wiffe,"  then  said  Sir  Kay, 
"  In  the  diuells  name  anon,  m 


36  THE   MARRIAGE    OF   SIR   GAWAINE. 

Gett  me  a  wiffe  whereere  I  may, 
For  I  had  rather  be  slaine  !  " 

Then  some  tooke  vp  their  hawkes  in  hast, 
And  some  tooke  vp  their  hounds ;  us 

And  some  sware  they  wold  not  marry  her, 
For  citty  nor  for  towne. 

And  then  bespake  him  noble  King  Arthur, 
And  sware  there,  "  by  this  day, 
For  a  litle  foule  sight  &  misliking,  iso 

{About  nine  stanzas  wanting.'} 

Then  shee  said,  "  choose  thee,  gentle  Gawaine, 
Truth  as  I  doe  say  ; 

Wether  thou  wilt  haue  me  in  this  liknesse, 
In  the  night,  or  else  in  the  day." 

And  then  bespake  him  gentle  Gawaine,          ^ 

With  one  soe  mild  of  moode  ; 

Sayes,  "  well  I  know  what  I  wold  say, 

God  grant  it  may  be  good  ! 

"  To  haue  thee  fowle  in  the  night, 
When  I  with  thee  shold  play  —  ^ 

Yet  I  had  rather,  if  I  might, 
Haue  thee  fowle  in  the  day." 

ft  What,  when  lords  goe  with  ther  feires,"  shee 
said, 

MS.  144,  soome.     163,  seires. 


THE    MARRIAGE    OF    SIR    GAWAINE.  37 

"  Both  to  the  ale  and  wine  ; 
Alas  !  then  I  must  hyde  my  selfe,  ^ 

I  must  not  goe  withinne." 

And  then  bespake  him  gentle  Gawaine, 

Said,  "  Lady,  thats  but  a  skill ; 

And  because  thou  art  my  ovvne  lady, 

Thou  shalt  haue  all  thy  will."  no 

Then  she  said,  "  blessed  be  thou,  gentle  Ga 
waine, 

This  day  that  I  thee  see ; 
For  as  thou  see  me  att  this  time, 
From  hencforth  I  wil  be. 

"  My  father  was  an  old  knight,  175 

And  yett  it  chanced  soe, 
That  he  married  a  younge  lady, 
That  brought  me  to  this  woe. 

"  Shee  witched  me,  being  a  faire  young  kdy, 
To  the  greene  forrest  to  dwell ;  iso 

And  there  I  must  walke  in  womans  liknesse, 
Most  like  a  feeind  of  hell. 

"  She  witched  my  brother  to  a  carlist  b  .  .  .  . 
[About  nine  stanzas  wanting.'] 

That  looked  soe  foule,  and  that  was  wont 

On  the  wild  more  to  goe.  135 


38          THE    MARRIAGE    OF    SIR    GAWAINE. 

"  Come  kisse  her,  brother  Kay,"  then  said  Sir 

Gawaine, 
"  And  amend  the  of  thy  liffe  ; 

I  sweare  this  is  the  same  lady 

That  I  marryed  to  my  wiffe." 

Sir  Kay  kissed  that  lady  bright,  i» 

Standing  vpon  his  ffeete  ; 

He  swore,  as  he  was  trew  knight, 

The  spice  was  neuer  soe  sweete. 

"  Well,  cozen  Gawaine,"  sayes  Sir  Kay, 

"  Thy  chance  is  fallen  arright ;  195 

For  thou  hast  gotten  one  of  the  fairest  maids, 

I  euer  saw  with  my  sight." 

"  It  is  my  fortune,"  said  Sir  Gawaine  ; 
"  For  my  vnckle  Arthurs  sake, 

I  am  glad  as  grasse  wold  be  of  raine,  200 

Great  joy  that  I  may  take." 

Sir  Gawaine  tooke  the  lady  by  the  one  arme1, 

Sir  Kay  tooke  her  by  the  tother  ; 

They  led  her  straight  to  King  Arthur, 

As  they  were  brother  and  brother.  205 

King  Arthur  welcomed  them  there  all, 
And  soe  did  lady  Geneuer,  his  queene ; 
With  all  the  knights  of  the  Round  Table, 
Most  seemly  to  be  scene. 


THE    MARRIAGE    OF    SIR    GAWAINE.          39 

King  Arthur  beheld  that  lady  faire,  210 

That  was  soe  faire  &  bright ; 

He  thanked  Christ  in  Trinity 

For  Sir  Gawaine,  that  gentle  knight. 

Soe  did  the  knights,  both  more  and  lesse,       220 

Rejoyced  all  that  day, 

For  the  good  chance  that  hapened  was 

To  Sir  Gawaine  and  his  lady  gay. 


KING  ARTHUR'S  DEATH. 

A   FRAGMENT. 

Reliques  of  English  Poetry,  iii,  67. 

"  THE  subject  of  this  ballad  is  evidently  taken  from 
the  old  romance  Morte  Arthur,  but  with  some  vari 
ations,  especially  in  the  concluding  stanzas ;  in  which 
the  author  seems  rather  to  follow  the  traditions  of  the 
old  Welsh  Bards,  who  '  believed  that  King  Arthur 
was  not  dead,  but  conveied  awaie  by  the  Fairies  into 
some  pleasant  place,  where  he  should  remaine  for  a 
time,  and  then  returne  againe  and  reign  in  as  great 
authority  as  ever.'  (Holinshed,  B.  5,  c.  14.)  Or,  as  it  is 
expressed  in  an  old  chronicle  printed  at  Antwerp, 
1493,  by  Ger.  de  Leew:  '  The  Bretons  supposen,  that 
he  [King  Arthur]  shall  come  yet  and  conquere  all 
Bretaigne,  for  certes  this  is  the  prophicye  of  Merlyn , 
He  sayd,  that  his  deth  shall  be  doubteous ;  and  sayd 
soth,  for  men  thereof  yet  have  doubte,  and  shullen  for 
ever  more, — for  men  wyt  not  whether  that  he  lyveth 
or  is  dede.'  See  more  ancient  testimonies  in  Selden's 
Notes  on  Polyolbion,  Song  3. 

"  This  fragment,  being  very  incorrect  and  imperfect 


41 

in  the  original  MS.,  hath  received  some  conjectural 
emendations,  and  even  a  supplement  of  three  or  four 
stanzas  composed  from  the  romance  of  Morte  Ar 
thur?  PERCY. 


ON  Trinitye  Mondaye  in  the  morne, 
This  sore  battayle  was  doom'd  to  bee, 

Where  manye  a  knighte  cry'd,  Well-awaye ! 
Alacke,  it  was  the  more  pittie. 

Ere  the  first  crowinge  of  the  cocke,  s 

When  as  the  kinge  in  his  bed  laye, 

He  thoughte  Sir  G-awaine  to  him  came, 
And  there  to  him  these  wordes  did  saye. 

"  Nowe,  as  you  are  mine  unkle  deare, 

And  as  you  prize  your  life,  this  daye  10 

0  meet  not  with  your  foe  in  fighte  ; 
Putt  off  the  battayle,  if  yee  maye. 

"  For  Sir  Launcelot  is  nowe  in  Fraunce, 
And  with  him  many  an  hardye  knighte  : 

Who  will  within  this  moneth  be  backe,  is 

And  will  assiste  yee  in  the  fighte." 


7.  Sir  Gawaine  had  been  killed  at  Arthur's  landing  on  his 
return  from  abroad.    See  the  next  ballad,  ver.  73.  P. 


42  KING  ARTHUR'S  DEATH. 

The  kinge  then  call'd  his  nobles  all, 
Before  the  breakinge  of  the  daye  ; 

And  tolde  them  howe  Sir  Gawaine  came, 
And  there  to  him  these  wordes  did  saye.      20 

His  nobles  all  this  counsayle  gave, 

That  earlye  in  the  morning,  hee 
Shold  send  awaye  an  herauld  at  armes, 

To  aske  a  parley  faire  and  free. 

Then  twelve  good  knightes  King  Arthur  chose, 
The  best  of  all  that  with  him  were,  26 

To  parley  with  the  foe  in  field, 

And  make  with  him  agreement  faire. 

The  king  he  charged  all  his  hoste, 

In  readinesse  there  for  to  bee ;  » 

But  noe  man  sholde  noe  weapon  sturre, 

Unlesse  a  sword  drawne  they  shold  see. 

And  Mordred,  on  the  other  parte, 

Twelve  of  his  knights  did  likewise  bringe, 

The  beste  of  all  his  companye,  * 

To  holde  the  parley  with  the  kinge. 

Sir  Mordred  alsoe  charged  his  hoste, 

In  readinesse  there  for  to  bee  ; 
But  noe  man  sholde  noe  weapon  sturre, 

But  if  a  sworde  drawne  they  shold  see.       « 


KING  ARTHUR'S  DEATH.  43 

For  he  durste  not  his  unkle  truste, 
Nor  he  his  nephewe,  sothe  to  tell ; 

Alacke  !  it  was  a  woefulle  case, 
As  ere  in  Christentye  befelle. 

But  when  they  were  together  mette,  « 

And  both  to  faire  accordance  broughte, 

And  a  month's  league  betweene  them  sette, 
Before  the  battayle  sholde  be  foughte, 

An  addere  crept  forth  of  a  bushe, 

Stunge  one  o'  th'  king's  knightes  on  the  knee ; 
Alacke  !  it  was  a  woefulle  chance,  si 

As  ever  was  in  Christentie. 

When  the  knighte  found  him  wounded  sore, 
And  sawe  the  wild-worme  hanginge  there, 

His  sworde  he  from  his  scabberde  drewe ;        55 
A  piteous  case,  as  ye  shall  heare. 

For  when  the  two  hostes  sawe  the  sworde, 

They  joyned  battayle  instantlye  ; 
Till  of  so  manye  noble  knightes, 

On  one  side  there  were  left  but  three.          so 

For  all  were  slaine  that  durst  abide, 
And  but  some  fewe  that  fled  awaye : 

41,  42,  the  folio  MS.  reads  father sonne. 


44  KING  ARTHUR'S  DEATH. 

Ah  mee  !  it  was  a  bloodye  fielde, 

As  ere  was  foughte  on  summer's  daye. 

Upon  King  Arthur's  own  partye, 

Onlye  himselfe  escaped  there, 
And  Lukyn  Duke  of  Gloster  free, 

And  the  king's  butler  Bedevere. 

And  when  the  king  beheld  his  knightes 
All  dead  and  scattered  on  the  molde, 

The  teares  fast  trickled  downe  his  face  ; 
That  manlye  face  in  fight  so  bolde. 

"  No  we  reste  yee  all,  brave  knights,"  he  said, 
"  Soe  true  and  faithful  to  your  trust : 

And  must  yee  then,  yee  valiant  hearts, 
Be  lefte  to  moulder  into  dust ! 


"  Most  loyal  have  yee  been  to  mee, 
Most  true  and  faithful  unto  deathe  : 

And,  oh !  to  rayse  yee  up  againe, 

How  freelye  could  I  yield  my  breathe  ! 

"  But  see,  the  traitor's  yet  alive  ! 

Lo  where  hee  stalkes  among  the  deade  ! 
Nowe  bitterlye  he  shall  abye, 

And  vengeance  fall  upon  his  head." 

"  O  staye,  my  liege,"  then  sayd  the  duke ; 
"  O  staye  for  love  and  charitie ; 


KING  ARTHUR'S  DEATH.  45 

Remember  what  the  vision  spake, 
Nor  meete  your  foe,  if  it  may  bee." 

"  0  staye  mee  not,  thou  worthy e  wight, 

This  debt  my  loyal  knights  I  owe  :  w 

Betide  me  life,  betide  me  death, 
I  will  avenge  them  of  their  foe." 

Then  straite  he  grasp'd  his  trustye  speare, 
And  on  his  horse  then  mounted  hee : 

As  his  butler  holpe  him  to  his  horse,  B 

His  bowels  gushed  to  his  knee. 

"  Alas  !  "  then  sayd  the  noble  king, 
"  That  I  should  live  this  sight  to  see  ! 

To  see  this  good  knight  here  be  slaine, 

All  for  his  love  in  helping  mee  !  "  100 

He  put  his  speare  into  his  reste, 
And  to  Sir  Mordred  loud  gan  crye  ; 

"  Nowe  sette  thyself  upon  thy  guarde, 
For,  traitor,  nowe  thy  death  is  nye." 

Sir  Mordred  lifted  up  his  sworde,  IDS 

And  fierce  to  meet  the  king  ran  hee  : 

The  king  his  speare  he  through  him  thrust, 
A  fathom  thorow  his  bodie. 

When  Mordered  felt  the  stroke  of  death, 
And  found  that  he  was  wounded  soe,  no 


46  KING  ARTHUR'S  DEATH. 

He  thruste  himselfe  upon  the  speare, 
And  strucke  the  king  a  deadlye  blowe. 

Then  grimmlye  dyed  Sir  Mordered, 

Presentlye  upon  that  tree  : 
And  bloody  streames  ranne  from  the  kinge,    us 

Ere  to  the  duke  returned  hee. 

Sir  Lukyn  then  he  thus  bespake  : 

"  Sir  knighte,  thou  hast  been  faithfulle  tryde ; 
Nowe  take  my  sword  Excalibar, 

That  hangs  so  freelye  by  my  syde,  120 

"  0  take  my  sword  Excalibar, 
And  there  into  the  river  throwe  : 

For  here,  henceforth,  benethe  this  tree, 
All  use  of  weapons  I  foregoe. 

"And  fare  thee  well,  thou  trustye  sword,        125 
A  better  neer  had  valiant  knighte  ; 

With  thee  full  ofte,  and  many  a  daye, 
Have  I  withstood  my  foe  in  fighte. 

"  With  this  good  fauchion  in  my  hande, 

Oft  have  I  reapd  the  bloody  feelde  :  iso 

But  no  we  the  fatalle  houre  is  come, 
That  never  more  I  may  thee  weelde." 


119.  More  commonly  called  Calihurn.    In  the  folio  MS. 
Escdlherd.  P. 


KING  ARTHUR'S  DEATH.  47 

The  duke  to  the  river  side  he  went, 

And  there  his  owne  sword  in  threwe  he ; 

But  he  kept  back  Excalibar,  135 

He  kept  it  back  in  privitie. 

For  all  of  coleyne  was  the  blade, 
And  all  the  hilte  of  precious  stone  : 

"And  ever  alacke  ! "  then  sayd  the  knighte,    139 
"  Must  such  a  sword  awaye  be  throwne  ?  " 

Then  backe  he  came  unto  the  kinge, 

Who  sayd,  "  Sir  Lukyn,  what  did  yee  see  ?  " 

"  Nothing,  my  liege,  save  that  the  winde 
Blewe  oer  the  waters  faire  and  free." 

"  O  goe  againe,"  then  said  the  kinge,  us 

"  O  good  Sir  Lukyn,  goe  againe  : 

Into  the  rivere  throwe  my  sword, 

Nor  keepe  me  lingering  here  in  paine. 

The  duke  then  to  the  river  went, 

And  the  kings  scabbard  in  threwe  hee  ;      iso 
But  hee  kept  backe  Excalibar, 

And  hid  it  undernethe  a  tree. 

Then  backe  he  came  to  tell  the  kinge, 

Who  sayde,  "  Sir  Lukyn,  sawe  ye  oughte  ?  " 

u  Nothinge,  my  liege,  save  that  the  winde       iss 
Nowe  with  the  angrye  waters  fought." 


48  KING  ARTHUR'S  DEATH. 

"  O  Lukyn,  Lukyn,"  said  the  kinge, 
"  Twice  haste  thou  dealt  deceytfullye  : 

Alacke,  whom  may  wee  ever  truste, 

When  suche  a  knighte  soe  false  can  bee  !  wo 

"  Saye,  wouldst  thou  have  thy  master  dead, 
All  for  a  sword  that  wins  thine  eye  ? 

Now  goe  againe,  and  throwe  it  in, 
Or  here  the  one  of  us  shall  dye." 

The  duke,  all  shent  with  this  rebuke,  1*5 

No  aunswere  made  unto  the  kinge  ; 

But  to  the  rivere  tooke  the  sworde, 
And  threwe  it  far  as  he  coulde  flinge. 

A  hande  and  an  arme  did  meete  the  sworde, 
And  flourishd  three  times  in  the  air ;  170 

Then  sunke  benethe  the  renninge  streme, 
And  of  the  duke  was  scene  noe  mair. 

All  sore  astonied  stood  the  duke, 
He  stood  as  still,  as  still  mote  bee ; 

Then  hastend  backe  to  tell  the  kinge,  175 

But  he  was  gone  from  under  the  tree. 

But  to  what  place,  he  cold  not  tell, 
For  never  after  hee  did  him  see  ; 

But  hee  sawe  a  barge  goe  from  the  land, 
And  hee  heard  ladyes  howle  and  crye.       w 


KING  ARTHUR'S  DEATH.  49 

And  whether  the  kinge  were  there,  or  not, 
Hee  never  knewe,  nor  ever  colde  ; 

For  from  that  sad  and  direfulle  daye, 
Hee  never  more  was  seene  on  molde. 


VOL.  I. 


THE  LEGEND  OF  KING  ARTHUR. 

JKeliques  of  English  Poetry,  iii,  76. 

"  WE  have  here  a  short  summary  of  King  Arthur's 
History  as  given  by  Jeff,  of  Monmouth  and  the  old 
Chronicles,  with  the  addition  of  a  few  circumstances 
from  the  romance  Morte  Arthur. — The  ancient  chroni 
cle  of  Ger.  de  Leew  (quoted  above  in  p.  40,)  seems  to 
have  been  chiefly  followed:  upon  the  authority  of 
which  we  have  restored  some  of  the  names  which  were 
corrupted  in  the  MS,,  and  have  transposed  one  stanza, 
which  appeared  to  be  misplaced :  viz.,  that  beginning 
at  v.  49,  which  in  the  MS.  followed  v.  36. 
"  Printed  from  the  Editor's  ancient  folio  MS." 

PERCY. 

OP  Brutus'  blood,  in  Brittaine  borne, 

King  Arthur  I  am  to  name  ; 
Through  Christendome  and  Heathynesse 

Well  knowne  is  my  worthy  fame. 

In  Jesus  Christ  I  doe  beleeve  ; 

I  am  a  Christyan  bore  ; 
The  Father,  Sone,  and  Holy  Gost, 

One  God,  I  doe  adore. 

1.  MS.,  Bruitehis. 


THE  LEGEND  OF  KING  ARTHUR.      51 

In  the  four  hundred  ninetieth  yeere, 

Oer  Brittaine  I  did  rayne,  10 

After  my  Savior  Christ  his  byrth, 
What  time  I  did  maintaine 

The  fellowshipp  of  the  Table  Round, 

Soe  famous  in  those  dayes  ; 
Whereatt  a  hundred  noble  knights  is 

And  thirty  sat  alwayes  : 

Who  for  their  deeds  and  and  martiall  feates, 

As  bookes  done  yett  record, 
Amongst  all  other  nations 

Wer  feared  through  the  world.  20 

And  in  the  castle  off  Tyntagill 

King  Uther  mee  begate, 
Of  Agyana,  a  bewtyous  ladye, 

And  come  of  '  hie '  estate. 


And  when  I  was  fifteen  yeere  old,  25 

Then  was  I  crowned  kinge  : 
All  Brittaine,  that  was  att  an  uprore, 

I  did  to  quiett  bringe  ; 

And  drove  the  Saxons  from  the  realme, 
Who  had  opprest  this  land  ;  30 

9,  He  began  his  reign  A.  D.  515,  according  to  the  Chron 
icles.  23,  She  is  named  Jgerna  in  the  old  Chronicles.  24 
his,  MS. 


52  THE   LEGEND    OF   KING   ARTHUR. 

All  Scotland  then,  throughe  manly  feates, 
I  conquered  with  my  hand. 

Ireland,  Denmarke,  Norwaye, 

These  countryes  wan  I  all ; 
Iseland,  Gotheland,  and  Swetheland  ;  ^ 

And  made  their  kings  my  thrall. 

I  conquered  all  Gallya, 

That  now  is  called  France  ; 
And  slew  the  hardye  Froll  in  feild, 

My  honor  to  advance.  « 

And  the  ugly  gyant  Dynabus, 

Soe  terrible  to  vewe, 
That  in  Saint  Barnards  mount  did  lye, 

By  force  of  armes  I  slew. 

And  Lucyus,  the  emperour  of  Rome,          « 

I  brought  to  deadly  wracke  ; 
And  a  thousand  more  of  noble  knightes 

For  feare  did  turne  their  backe. 

Five  kinges  of  Pavye  I  did  kill 

Amidst  that  bloody  strife  ;  so 

Besides  the  Grecian  emperour, 

Who  alsoe  lost  his  liffe. 

39,  Froland  field,  MS.  Froll,  according  to  the  Chroni 
cles,  was  a  Eoman  kui'ght,  governor  of  Gaul.  41,  Danibus, 
MS.  49,  see  p.  134,  v.  55. 


THE  LEGEND  OF  KING  ARTHUR.      53 

Whose  carcasse  I  did  send  to  Rome, 

Cladd  poorlye  on  a  beere  ; 
And  afterward  I  past  Mount-Joye  55 

The  next  approaching  yeere. 

Then  I  came  to  Rome,  where  I  was  mett 

Right  as  a  conquerour, 
And  by  all  the  cardinalls  solempnelye 

I  was  crowned  an  emperour.  eo 

One  winter  there  I  made  abode, 
Then  word  to  mee  was  brought, 

Howe  Mordred  had  oppressed  the  crowne, 
What  treason  he  had  wrought 

Att  home  in  Brittaine  with  my  queene  :       65 

Therfore  I  came  with  speede 
To  Brittaine  backe,  with  all  my  power, 

To  quitt  that  traiterous  deede ; 

And  soone  at  Sandwiche  I  arrivde, 

Where  Mordred  me  withstoode  :  ?o 

But  yett  at  last  I  landed  there, 
With  effusion  of  much  blood. 

For  there  my  nephew  Sir  Gawaine  dyed, 

Being  wounded  in  that  sore 
The  whiche  Sir  Lancelot  in  fight  n 

Had  given  him  before. 


54      THE  LEGEND  OF  KING  ARTHUR. 

Thence  chased  I  Mordered  away, 

Who  fledd  to  London  right, 
From  London  to  Winchester,  and 

To  Cornewalle  tooke  his  flyght.  so 

And  still  I  him  pursued  with  speed, 

Till  at  last  wee  mett ; 
Wherby  an  appointed  day  of  fight 

Was  there  agreed  and  sett : 

Where  we  did  fight,  of  mortal  life  33 

Eche  other  to  deprive, 
Till  of  a  hundred  thousand  men 

Scarce  one  was  left  alive. 

There  all  the  noble  chivalrye 

Of  Brittaine  tooke  their  end:  so 

O  see  how  fickle  is  their  state 

That  doe  on  fates  depend  ! 

There  all  the  traiterous  men  were  slaine, 

Not  one  escapte  away ; 
And  there  dyed  all  my  vallyant  knightes,    95 

Alas  !  that  woefull  day  ! 

Two  and  twenty  yeere  I  ware  the  crowne 

In  honor  and  great  fame, 
And  thus  by  death  was  suddenlye 

Deprived  of  the  same.  i°° 

92,  feates,  MS. 


SIR  LANCELOT  DU  LAKE. 

THIS  ballad  first  occurs  in  the  Garland  of  Good 
Will,  and  is  attributed  to  Thomas  Deloney,  whose 
career  as  a  song- writer  extends  from  about  1586  to 
1600.  It  is  merely  a  rhymed  version  of  a  passage  in 
the  Morte  LT  Arthur,  (Book  vi.  ch.  7,  8,  9,  of  South- 
ey's  ed.)  The  first  two  lines  are  quoted  in  the  Second 
Part  of  Henry  IV.,  A.  ii.  sc.  4. 

The  present  text  is  nearly  that  of  the  Garland  of 
Good  Will  (Percy  Society,  vol.  xxx.  p.  38), and  differs 
considerably  from  that  of  Percy,  (Reliques,  i.  215.) 
The  same,  with  very  trifling  variations,  is  found  in 
Old  Ballads,  (1723,)  ii.  21 ;  Ritson's  Ancient  Songs, 
ii.  188;  Evans's  Old  Ballads,  ii.  5. 

WHEN  Arthur  first  in  court  began, 

And  was  approved  king, 
By  force  of  arms  great  victories  won, 

And  conquests  home  did  bring  ; 

Then  into  Britain  straight  he  came,  5 

Where  fifty  good  and  able 
Knights  then  repaired  unto  him, 

Which  were  of  the  Round  Table ; 


56  SIR    LANCELOT    DU   LAKE. 

And  many  justs  and  tournaments 

Before  them  there  were  drest,  10 

Where  valiant  knights  did  then  excel, 
And  far  surmount  the  rest. 

But  one  Sir  Lancelot  du  Lake, 

Who  was  approved  well, 
He  in  his  fights  and  deeds  of  arms,  w 

All  others  did  excel. 

When  he  had  rested  him  a  while, 

To  play,  to  game,  and  sport, 
He  thought  he  would  go  try  himself, 

In  some  adventurous  sort.  20 

He  armed  rode  in  forest  wide, 

And  met  a  damsel  fair, 
Who  told  him  of  adventures  great, 

Whereto  he  gave  good  ear. 

"  Why  should  I  not  ?  "  quoth  Lancelot  tho,    25 

"  For  that  cause  I  came  hither." 
"  Thou  seem'st,"  quoth  she,  "  a  goodly  knight, 
And  I  will  bring  thee  thither 

"  Whereas  a  mighty  knight  doth  dwell, 

That  now  is  of  great  fame ;  so 

Therefore  tell  me  what  knight  thou  art, 
then  what  is  your  name." 

29,  the. 


SIR   LANCELOT    DU   LAKE.  57 

"  My  name  is  Lancelot  du  Lake." 
Quoth  she,  "  it  likes  me  than  ; 
Here  dwells  a  knight  that  never  was  35 

O'ermatch'd  with  any  man  ; 

"  Who  has  in  prison  threescore  knights 

And  four,  that  he  has  bound ; 
Knights  of  King  Arthur's  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, 

His  fellows  shields  to  see. 

He  struck  so  hard,  the  bason  broke  :  45 

When  Tarquin  heard  the  sound, 

He  drove  a  horse  before  him  straight, 
Whereon  a  knight  lay  bound. 

"  Sir  knight,"  then  said  Sir  Lancelot, 

"  Bring  me  that  horse-load  hither,  so 

And  lay  him  down,  and  let  him  rest ; 
We'll  try  our  force  together. 

"  And  as  I  understand,  thou  hast, 

So  far  as  thou  art  able, 
Done  great  despite  and  shame  unto  55 

The  knights  of  the  Round  Table." 

36,  E'er  match'd.    44,  fellow. 


58  SIR   LANCELOT   DU  LAKE. 

"If  thou  be  of  the  Table  Round" 

(Quoth  Tarquin,  speedilye), 
"  Both  thee  and  all  thy  fellowship 

I  utterly  defie."  oo 

"  That's  overmuch,"  quoth  Lancelot  tho ; 

"  Defend  thee  by  and  by." 
They  put  their  spurs  unto  their  steeds, 
And  each  at  other  fly. 

They  coucht  their  spears,  and  horses  ran     a 
As  though  there  had  been  thunder ; 

And  each  struck  them  amidst  the  shield, 
Wherewith  they  broke  in  sunder. 

Their  horses  backs  brake  under  them, 
The  knights  were  both  astound ;  TO 

To  void  their  horses  they  made  great  haste, 
To  light  upon  the  ground. 

They  took  them  to  their  shields  full  fast, 
Their  swords  they  drew  out  than ; 

With  mighty  strokes  most  eagerly  re 

Each  one  at  other  ran. 

They  wounded  were,  and  bled  full  sore, 
For  breath  they  both  did  stand, 

And  leaning  on  their  swords  awhile, 

Quoth  Tarquin,  "  Hold  thy  hand,  *> 


SIR   LANCELOT   DU  LAKE.  59 

«  And  tell  to  me  what  I  shall  ask  ; " 

"  Say  on,"  quoth  Lancelot  tho ; 
"  Thou  art,"  quoth  Tarquin,  "  the  best  knight 
That  ever  I  did  know  ; 

"  And  like  a  knight  that  I  did  hate ;  & 

So  that  thou  be  not  he, 
I  will  deliver  all  the  rest, 
And  eke  accord  with  thee." 

"  That  is  well  said,"  quoth  Lancelot  then  ; 

"  But  sith  it  must  be  so,  so 

What  is  the  knight  thou  hatest  thus  ? 
I  pray  thee  to  me  show." 

"  His  name  is  Lancelot  du  Lake, 

He  slew  my  brother  dear ; 
Him  I  suspect  of  all  the  rest ;  95 

I  would  I  had  him  here." 

"  Thy  wish  thou  hast,  but  yet  unknown ; 

I  am  Lancelot  du  Lake ! 
Now  knight  of  Arthur's  Table  Round, 

King  Ban's  son  of  Benwake ;  100 


o 


"And  I  desire  thee  do  thy  worst." 
"  Ho !  ho ! "  quoth  Tarquin  tho, 
"  One  of  us  two  shall  end  our  lives, 
Before  that  we  do  go. 

91,  so.    100,  Kind  Haud's  son  of  Seuwake. 


60  SIR    LANCELOT   DU   LAKE. 

"  If  thou  be  Lancelot  du  Lake,  ice 

Then  welcome  shalt  thou  be ; 
Wherefore  see  thou  thyself  defend, 
For  now  defie  I  thee." 

They  buckled  then  together  so, 

Like  two  wild  boars  rashing,  110 

And  with  their  swords  and  shields  they  ran 

At  one  another  slashing. 

The  ground  besprinkled  was  with  blood, 

Tarquin  began  to  faint ; 
For  he  gave  back,  and  bore  his  shield        IM 

So  low,  he  did  repent. 

This  soon  espied  Sir  Lancelot  tho ; 

He  leapt  upon  him  then, 
He  pull'd  him  down  upon  his  knee, 

And  rushed  off  his  helm.  120 

And  then  he  struck  his  neck  in  two  ; 

And  when  he  had  done  so, 
From  prison,  threescore  knights  and  four 

Lancelot  delivered  tho. 

112,  flashing.    117,  'spied.     120,  rushing. 


THE  LEGEND  OF  SIR  GUY. 

(Percy's  JReliques,  iii.  143.) 

"PUBLISHED  from  an  ancient  MS.  copy  in  the 
Editor's  old  folio  volume,  collated  with  two  printed 
ones,  one  of  which  is  in  black-letter  in  the  Pepys  col 
lection."  PERCY. 

An  inferior  copy  is  printed  in  Eitson's  Ancient  Songs 
and  Ballads,  ii.  193. 

From  an  essay  on  the  romance  of  Sir  Guy,  read  by 
Mr.  Wright  before  the  British  Archaeological  Associ 
ation  during  its  meeting  at  Warwick,  we  extract  the 
following  remarks  in  illustration  of  the  history  of  the 
present  ballad,  and  other  similar  popular  heroic  tra 
ditions. 

"  As  the  Teutonic  tribes  progressed  in  their  migra 
tions,  and  settled  in  new  lands  —  and  especially  when 
they  received  a  new  faith,  and  made  advances  in  civ 
ilization,  —  the  mythic  romances  of  their  forefathers 
underwent  remarkable  modifications  to  adapt  them  to 
new  sentiments  and  new  manners.  Among  people 
who  had  forgotten  the  localities  to  which  they  refer 
red,  they  received  a  new  location  and  became  identi 
fied  with  places  and  objects  with  which  people  were 
better  acquainted,  and  in  this  manner  they  underwent 


62  THE    LEGEND    OF    SIR    GUY. 

a  new  historical  interpretation.  It  would  be  no  unin 
teresting  task  to  point  out  how  many  romantic  tales 
that  are  soberly  related  of  individuals  of  comparatively 
modern  history,  are  merely  new  applications  of  these 
early  myths. 

"  Among  the  romances  of  the  Anglo-Danish  cycle 
by  no  means  the  least  celebrated  is  that  of  GUY  OF 
WARWICK.  It  is  one,  of  the  few,  which  has  been  pre 
served  in  its  Anglo-Norman  form,  since  which  it  has 
gone  through  an  extraordinary  number  of  versions, 
and  Chaucer  enumerated  it  among  the  romances  of 
pris,  or  those  which  in  the  fourteenth  century  were 
held  in  the  highest  estimation.  It  is  doubtless  one  of 
those  stories  in  which  an  ancient  mythic  romance  has 
undergone  the  series  of  modifications  I  have  been  de 
scribing  ;  a  legend  which  had  become  located  by  pop 
ular  traditions  in  the  neighbourhood  we  are  now  visit 
ing,  in  which  the  contests  between  northern  chieftains 
are  changed  into  tilts  and  tournaments,  but  in  which 
the  combats  with  dragons  and  giants  are  still  pre 
served.  Whatever  may  have  been  the  name  of  the 
original  hero,  that  which  he  now  bears,  Guy,  is  a 
French  name,  and  could  not  have  been  given  till  Nor 
man  times. 

"  From  the  Anglo-Norman  poem,  so  great  was  its  pop 
ularity,  two  or  three  different  English  metrical  versions 
were  made,  which  are  still  found  in  manuscripts,  and 
the  earliest  of  which,  that  of  the  well-known  Auchin- 
lech  manuscript,  has  been  printed  in  a  very  expen 
sive  form  by  one  of  the  Scottish  Antiquarian  clubs. 
It  was  next  transformed  into  French  prose,  and  in 
that  form  was  popular  in  the  fifteenth  century,  and 
was  printed  by  some  of  the  earlier  printers.  It  was 
finally  reduced  to  a  popular  chap-book  in  prose  and  a 


THE    LEGEND    OF    SIR    GUY.  63 

broadside  ballad  in  verse,  and  in  these  forms  was 
hawked  about  the  streets  until  a  very  recent  period. 
Such  has  in  general  been  the  fate  of  the  romantic 
literature  of  the  middle  ages  ;  a  remarkable  proof  of 
the  tenacity  with  which  it  has  kept  its  hold  on  the 
popular  mind."  Gentleman's  Magazine,  Sept.  1847, 
p.  300. 

WAS  ever  knight  for  ladyes  sake 
Soe  tost  in  love,  as  I,  Sir  Guy, 

For  Phelis  fayre,  that  lady  bright 
As  ever  man  beheld  with  eye  ? 

She  gave  me  leave  myself  to  try,  5 

The  valiant  knight  with  sheeld  and  speare, 

Ere  that  her  love  she  would  grant  me  ; 
Which  made  mee  venture  far  and  neare. 

Then  proved  I  a  baron  bold, 

In  deeds  of  armes  the  doughtyest  knight  10 
That  in  those  dayes  in  England  was, 

With  sworde  and  speare  in  feild  to  fight. 

An  English  man  I  was  by  birthe : 
In  faith  of  Christ  a  christyan  true  : 

The  wicked  lawes  of  infidells  is 

I  sought  by  prowesse  to  subdue. 


9,  The  proud  Sir    Guy,  PC. 


64  THE    LEGEND    OF    SIR    GUY. 

'  Nine'  hundred  twenty  yeere  and  odde 
After  our  Saviour  Christ  his  birth, 

When  King  Athelstone  wore  the  crowne, 
I  lived  heere  upon  the  earth.  ac 

Sometime  I  was  of  Warwicke  erle, 

And,  as  I  sayd,  of  very  truth 
A  ladyes  love  did  me  constraine 

To  seeke  strange  ventures  in  my  youth  ; 

To  win  me  fame  by  feates  of  armes  25 

In  strange  and  sundry  heathen  lands ; 

Where  I  atchieved  for  her  sake 

Right  dangerous  conquests  with  my  hands. 

For  first  I  sayled  to  Normandye, 

And  there  I  stoutlye  wan  in  fight  ^ 

The  emperours  daughter  of  Almaine, 
From  manye  a  vallyant  worthye  knight. 

Then  passed  I  the  seas  to  Greece, 
To  helpe  the  emperour  in  his  right, 

Against  the  mightye  souldans  hoaste  M 

Of  puissant  Persians  for  to  fight : 

Where  I  did  slay  of  Sarazens, 

And  heathen  pagans,  manye  a  man  ; 

And  slew  the  souldans  cozen  deere, 

Who  had  to  name  doughtye  Coldran.       40 
17,  Two  hundred,  MS.  and  PC. 


THE    LEGEND    OF    SIR    GUY.  65 

Eskeldered,  a  famous  knight, 
To  death  likewise  I  did  pursue  : 

And  Elmayne,  King  of  Tyre,  alsoe, 
Most  terrible  in  fight  to  viewe. 

I  went  into  the  souldans  hoast,  « 

Being  thither  on  embassage  sent, 

And  brought  his  head  awaye  with  mee  ; 
I  having  slaine  him  in  his  tent. 

There  was  a  dragon  in  that  land 

Most  fiercelye  mett  me  by  the  waye,       fio 
As  hee  a  lyon  did  pursue, 

Which  I  myself  did  alsoe  slay. 

Then  soon  I  past  the  seas  from  Greece, 
And  came  to  Pavye  land  aright ; 

Where  I  the  duke  of  Pavye  killed,  M 

His  hainous  treason  to  requite. 

To  England  then  I  came  with  speede, 
To  wedd  faire  Phelis,  lady  bright ; 

For  love  of  whome  I  travelled  farr 

To  try  my  manhood  and  my  might.          en 

But  when  I  had  espoused  her, 

I  stayd  with  her  but  fortye  dayes, 

Ere  that  I  left  this  ladye  faire, 

And  went  from  her  beyond  the  seas. 

)L.  I.  5 


66  THE    LEGEND    OF    SIR    GUT. 

All  cladd  in  gray,  in  pilgrim  sort, 
My  voyage  from  her  I  did  take 

Unto  the  blessed  Holy-Land, 

For  Jesus  Christ  my  Saviours  sake. 

Where  I  Erie  Jonas  did  redeeme, 

And  all  his  sonnes,  which  were  fifteene, 

Who  with  the  cruell  Sarazens 
In  prison  for  long  time  had  beene. 

I  slew  the  gyant  Amarant 

In  battel  fiercelye  hand  to  hand, 

And  doughty  Barknard  killed  I, 

A  treacherous  knight  of  Pavye  land. 

Then  I  to  England  came  againe, 

And  here  with  Colbronde  fell  I  fought ; 

An  ugly  gyant,  which  the  Danes 

Had  for  their  champion  hither  brought. 

I  overcame  him  in  the  feild, 

And  slewe  him  soone  right  valliantlye  ; 
Wherebye  this  land  I  did  redeeme 

From  Danish  tribute  utterlye. 

And  afterwards  I  offered  upp 
The  use  of  weapons  solemnlye 

At  Winchester,  whereas  I  fought, 
In  sight  of  manye  farr  and  nye. 


THE    LEGEND    OF    SIR    GUY.  67 

1  But  first/  neare  Winsor,  I  did  slaye 

A  bore  of  passing  might  and  strength ;      90 

Whose  like  in  England  never  was 

For  hugenesse  both  in  bredth  and  length. 

Some  of  his  bones  in  Warwicke  yett 
Within  the  castle  there  doth  lye  ; 

One  of  his  sheeld-bones  to  this  day  95 

Hangs  in  the  citye  of  Coventrye. 

On  Dunsmore  heath  I  alsoe  slewe 
A  monstrous  wyld  and  cruell  beast, 

Calld  the  Dun-cow  of  Dunsmore  heath  ; 
Which  manye  people  had  opprest.  100 

Some  of  her  bones  in  Warwicke  yett 

Still  for  a  monument  doth  lye, 
And  there  exposed  to  lookers  viewe, 

As  wondrous  strange,  they  may  espye. 

A  dragon  in  Northumberland  105 

I  alsoe  did  in  fight  destroye, 
Which  did  bothe  man  and  beast  oppresse, 

And  all  the  countrye  sore  annoye. 

At  length  to  Warwicke  I  did  come, 

Like  pilgrim  poore,  and  was  not  knowne  ; 

And  there  I  lived  a  hermitts  life  111 

A  mile  and  more  out  of  the  towne. 


68  THE    LEGEND    OF    SIK    GUY. 

Where  with  my  hands  I  hewed  a  house 
Out  of  a  craggy  rocke  of  stone, 

And  lived  like  a  palmer  poore 
Within  that  cave  myself  alone  : 

And  daylye  came  to  begg  my  bread 
Of  Phelis  att  my  castle  gate  ; 

Not  knowne  unto  my  loved  wiffe, 
Who  dailye  mourned  for  her  mate. 

Till  att  the  last  I  feU  sore  sicke, 

Yea,  sicke  soe  sore  that  I  must  dye  ; 

I  sent  to  her  a  ring  of  golde, 

By  which  shee  knew  me  presentlye. 

Then  shee  repairing  to  the  cave, 
Before  that  I  gave  up  the  ghost, 

Herself  closd  up  my  dying  eyes  ; 
My  Phelis  faire,  whom  I  lovd  most. 

Thus  dreadful  death  did  me  arrest, 
To  bring  my  corpes  unto  the  grave, 

And  like  a  palmer  dyed  I, 

Wherby  I  sought  my  soule  to  save. 

My  body  that  endured  this  toyle, 
Though  now  it  be  consumed  to  mold, 

My  statue,  faire  engraven  in  stone, 
In  Warwicke  still  you  may  behold. 


ST.  GEORGE  AND  THE  DRAGON. 

(From  Percy's  Reliques,  iii.  278.) 

The  following  rhymed  legend,  which,  like  several 
other  pieces  in  this  Book,  can  be  called  a  ballad  only 
by  an  objectionable,  though  common,  extension  of  the 
term,  was  printed  by  Percy  (with  some  alterations) 
from  two  "  ancient "  black-letter  copies  in  the  Pepys 
collection. 

Real  popular  ballads  on  St.  George's  victory  over 
the  Dragon  exist  in  several  languages,  though  not  in 
English.*  Such  a  ballad  is  known  to  have  been  sung 
by  the  Swedes  at  the  battle  of  Brunkeberg  in  1471, 
and  one  is  still  sung  by  the  people  both  of  Denmark 
and  Sweden.  Grundtvig  gives  three  copies  of  the 
Danish  ballad,  two  of  the  16th  and  17th  centu 
ries,  and  one  of  the  present.  Four  versions  of 
the  Swedish  have  been  published,  of  various  ages 
(e.  g.  Soenska  Folkvisor,  ii.  252).  A  German  ballad 
is  given  by  Meinert,  Altdeutsclie  Volkslieder,  p.  254 ; 
after  him  by  Erlach,  iv.  258  ;  and  Haupt  and  Schma- 

*  What  follows  is  abridged  from  Grundtvig,  Danmarlcs 
Gamle  Folkeviser,  ii.  554. 


70      ST.  GEORGE  AND  THE  DRAGON. 

ler  have  printed  two  widely  different  versions  of  the 
ballad  in  Wendish,  Volkslieder  der  Wenden,  vol.  i. 
No.  285,  ii.  No.  195.  These  are  all  the  proper  tra 
ditional  ballads  upon  this  subject  which  are  known  to 
be  preserved,  unless  we  include  a  piece  called  Jurg 
Drachentb'dter,  in  Zuccalmaglio's  Deutsche  Volkslieder^ 
No.  37,  which  is  of  suspicious  authenticity.  The  piece 
called  Ritter  St.  Georg,  in  Des  Kndben  Wunderhorn, 
i.  151,  is  not  a  proper  ballad,  but  a  rhymed  legend, 
like  the  one  here  printed,  though  intended  to  be  sung. 

The  hero  of  these  ballads,  St.  George  of  Cappa- 
docia,  is  said  to  have  suffered  martyrdom  during  the 
persecution  in  Syria,  in  the  year  303.  In  the  6th 
century  he  was  a  recognized  saint  both  in  the  west 
ern  and  the  eastern  churches,  and  his  reputation  was 
limited  to  this  character  until  the  13th.  Reinbot 
von  Dorn,  (1231-53,)  in  his  poem  Der  Heilige  Georg, 
(Von  der  Hagen  and  Biisching's  Deutsche  Gedichte 
des  Mittelallers,}  and  Vincent  de  Beauvais  (f  1262)  in 
his  Speculum  Historiale  (XII.  131-32),  content  them 
selves  with  recounting  his  martyrdom,  and  appear  to 
know  nothing  about  his  fight  with  the  Dragon.  The 
first  known  writer  who  attributes  this  exploit  to  St. 
George  is  Jacobus  a  Voragine  (f  1298),  in  the  Golden 
Legend.  Of  course  it  does  not  follow  that  the  story 
originated  there.  It  is  probable  that  the  legend  of  the 
Dragon  arose  at  the  time  of  the  Crusades,  and  indeed 
was  partly  occasioned  by  them,  though  we  ought  not 
hastily  to  admit,  what  has  been  suggested,  that  it  was 
founded  upon  some  tradition  which  the  Crusaders 
heard  in  Syria. 

The  Byzantians  had  long  before  ascribed  various 
miracles  to  St.  George,  but  it  was  the  Normans,  who, 
so  to  say,  first  pressed  him  into  active  military  service. 


ST.  GEORGE  AND  THK  DRAGON.      71 

It  was  he  that  commanded  the  heavenly  host  that  came 
to  the  help  of  the  Crusaders  against  the  Turks,  under 
the  walls  of  Antioch,  in  the  year  1098,  on  which  occa 
sion  he  was  seen  on  his  white  horse,  bearing  the  white 
banner  with  the  red  cross.  He  manifested  himself 
again  at  the  storming  of  Jerusalem  in  the  following 
year,  and  a  hundred  years  later  was  seen  to  fight  in 
the  front  rank  against  the  Moors  in  Spain,  and  for 
Frederic  Barbarossa,  in  his  crusade  in  1190.  But 
though  he  had  entered  into  the  service  of  the  German 
emperor,  this  did  not  prevent  his  aiding  the  orthodox 
William  of  Holland  in  taking  Aix-la-Chapelle  from 
the  excommunicated  Emperor  Frederic  in  1248. — 
The  most  various  races  have  contended  for  his  protec 
tion.  His  feast  was  in  1222  ordered  to  be  kept  as  a  hol 
iday  throughout  all  England:  from  the  beginning  of  the 
14th  century,  or  since  the  Mongol  dominion  was  shaken 
off,  he  has  been  one  of  the  guardian  saints  of  Russia : 
in  1468,  the  Emperor  Frederic  III.  founded  the  Aus 
trian  Order  of  St.  George  for  the  protection  of  the  Em 
pire  against  the  Turks,  and  a  few  years  later,  in  1471, 
at  the  momentous  battle  of  Brunkeberg,  his  name  was 
the  war-cry  of  both  parties,  Swedes  and  Danes. 

That  the  subjugation  of  the  Dragon  (a  symbolical 
mode  of  representing  the  extinction  of  Evil  common 
to  all  times  and  peoples)  should  be  attributed  to  St. 
George,  would  seem  to  be  sufficiently  explained  by  his 
having  become  the  Christian  Hero  of  the  Middle  Ages. 
A  special  reason  may,  however,  be  alleged  for  his  con 
nection  with  such  a  legend.  Long  before  the  Cru 
sades,  he  was  depicted  by  the  artists  of  the  Oriental 
Church  as  the  Great  Martyr,  with  the  Dragon  (Anti- 
Christ  or  the  Devil)  at  his  feet,  and  a  crowned  virgin 
(the  Church)  at  his  side.  In  like  manner  had  Constan- 


72      ST.  GEORGE  AND  THE  DRAGON. 

tine  the  Great  had  himself  drawn,  and  many  other 
saints  are  represented  in  the  same  way,  as  Theodore, 
Victor,  and  Margaret,  This  symbolic  representation 
would  naturally  lead  to  the  Crusaders  making  St. 
George  the  hero  in  an  achievement  which  was  well 
known  in  connection  with  other  names  :  and  it  would 
then  not  be  too  much  to  assume  that  the  Normans 
(who,  as  already  said,  were  the  first  to  recognize  his 
presence  in  battle),  —  the  same  Normans  who  were 
properly  the  creators  of  the  romantic  poetry  of  the 
Middle  Ages,  —  were  also  the  first  to  connect  St. 
George  with  the  conquest  of  the  Dragon. 

But  however  we  may  account  for  St.  George's  being 
introduced  into  such  a  legend,  so  much  is  sure ;  that 
from  the  14th  century  on,  the  story  and  the  hero  have 
been  inseparable  :  all  the  legendaries  and  all  the  pic 
tures  of  him  exhibit  him  as  the  conqueror  of  the 
Dragon :  his  martyrdom  is  nearly  lost  sight  of,  and  in 
ballads  is  entirely  forgotten.  —  As  to  the  place  which 
was  the  scene  of  the  fight,  there  are  many  opinions. 
Some  have  fixed  it  in  Cappadocia,  others  in  Lybia, 
others  in  Syria,  and  some  European  nations  have 
assigned  the  adventure  to  a  locality  within  their  own 
bounds.  Thus  the  Wallachians  lay  the  scene  at  Or- 
woza,  one  of  the  Wendish  ballads  at  Berlin,  the  Ger 
mans  at  Leipsic,  the  Dutch  at  Oudenarde,  and 

the  people  of  the  island  of  Funen  at  Svendborg ! 


OF  Hector's  deeds  did  Homer  sing, 
And  of  the  sack  of  stately  Troy, 

What  griefs  fair  Helena  did  bring, 
Which  was  Sir  Paris'  only  joy  : 


ST.  GEORGE  AND  THE  DRAGON.      73 

And  by  my  pen  I  will  recite  o 

St.  George's  deeds,  an  English  knight. 

Against  the  Sarazens  so  rude 

Fought  he  full  long  and  many  a  day, 

Where  many  gyaunts  he  subdu'd, 

In  honour  of  the  Christian  way ;  ^ 

And  after  many  adventures  past, 

To  Egypt  land  he  came  at  last. 

Now,  as  the  story  plain  doth  tell, 
Within  that  countrey  there  did  rest 

A  dreadful  dragon,  fierce  and  fell,  is 

Whereby  they  were  full  sore  opprest : 

Who  by  his  poisonous  breath  each  day 

Did  many  of  the  city  slay. 

The  grief  whereof  did  grow  so  great 

Throughout  the  limits  of  the  land,  ac 

That  they  their  wise  men  did  intreat 
To  shew  their  cunning  out  of  hand ; 

What  way  they  might  this  fiend  destroy, 

That  did  the  countrey  thus  annoy. 

The  wise  men  all  before  the  king,  25 

This  answer  fram'd  incontinent : 
The  dragon  none  to  death  might  bring 

By  any  means  they  could  invent ; 
His  skin  more  hard  than  brass  was  found, 
That  sword  nor  spear  could  pierce  nor  wound. 


74      ST.  GEORGE  AND  THE  DRAGON. 

When  this  the  people  understood, 
They  cryed  out  most  piteouslye, 

The  dragon's  breath  infects  their  blood, 
That  every  day  in  heaps  they  dye  ; 

Among  them  such  a  plague  is  bred, 

The  living  scarce  could  bury  the  dead. 

No  means  there  were,  as  they  could  hear, 
For  to  appease  the  dragon's  rage, 

But  to  present  some  virgin  clear, 

"Whose  blood  his  fury  might  asswage ; 

Each  day  he  would  a  maiden  eat, 

For  to  allay  his  hunger  great. 

This  thing  by  art  the  wise  men  found, 
Which  truly  must  observed  be  ; 

Wherefore,  throughout  the  city  round, 
A  virgin  pure  of  good  degree 

Was,  by  the  king's  commission,  still 

Taken  up  to  serve  the  dragon's  will. 

Thus  did  the  dragon  every  day 
Untimely  crop  some  virgin  flowr, 

Till  all  the  maids  were  worn  away, 
And  none  were  left  him  to  devour ; 

Saving  the  king's  fair  daughter  bright, 

Her  father's  only  heart's  delight. 

Then  came  the  officers  to  the  king, 
That  heavy  message  to  declare, 


ST.  GEORGE  AND  THE  DRAGON.      75 

Which  did  his  heart  with  sorrow  sting ; 

"  She  is,"  quoth  he,  "  my  kingdom's  heir : 
O  let  us  all  be  poisoned  here, 
Ere  she  should  die,  that  is  my  dear."  GO 

Then  rose  the  people  presently, 

And  to  the  king  in  rage  they  went ; 
They  said  his  daughter  dear  should  dye, 

The  dragon's  fury  to  prevent : 
"  Our  daughters  all  are  dead,"  quoth  they,          & 
"  And  have  been  made  the  dragon's  prey  ; 

"  And  by  their  blood  we  rescued  were, 

And  thou  hast  sav'd  thy  life  thereby ; 
And  now  in  sooth  it  is  but  faire, 

For  us  thy  daughter  so  should  die."  ro 

"  O  save  my  daughter,"  said  the  king, 
"  And  let  ME  feel  the  dragon's  sting." 

Then  fell  fair  Sabra  on  her  knee, 

And  to  her  father  dear  did  say, 
"  0  father,  strive  not  thus  for  me,  rs 

But  let  me  be  the  dragon's  prey  ; 
It  may  be,  for  my  sake  alone 
This  plague  upon  the  land  was  thrown. 

"  'Tis  better  I  should  dye,"  she  said, 

"  Than  all  your  subjects  perish  quite  ;  so 

Perhaps  the  dragon  here  was  laid, 
For  my  offence  to  work  his  spite, 


76      ST.  GEORGE  AND  THE  DRAGON. 

And  after  he  hath  suckt  my  gore, 
Your  land  shall  feel  the  grief  no  more." 

"  What  hast  thou  done,  my  daughter  dear,          » 

For  to  deserve  this  heavy  scourge  ? 
It  is  my  fault,  as  may  appear, 

Which  makes  the  gods  our  state  to  purge  ; 
Then  ought  I  die,  to  stint  the  strife, 
And  to  preserve  thy  happy  life."  *> 

Like  mad-men,  all  the  people  cried, 
"  Thy  death  to  us  can  do  no  good  ; 
Our  safety  only  doth  abide 

In  making  her  the  dragon's  food." 
"  Lo  !  here  I  am,  I  come,"  quoth  she,  95 

u  Therefore  do  what  you  will  with  me." 

"  Nay  stay,  dear  daughter,"  quoth  the  queen, 
"  And  as  thou  art  a  virgin  bright, 
That  hast  for  vertue  famous  been, 

So  let  me  cloath  thee  all  in  white  ;  ioc 

And  crown  thy  head  with  flowers  sweet, 
An  ornament  for  virgins  meet." 

And  when  she  was  attired  so, 
According  to  her  mother's  mind, 

Unto  the  stake  then  did  she  go,  i<» 

To  which  her  tender  limbs  they  bind  ; 

And  being  bound  to  stake  a  thrall, 

She  bade  farewell  unto  them  all. 


ST.  GEORGE  AND  THE  DRAGON.      77 

"  Farewell,  my  father  dear,"  quoth  she, 
"  And  my  sweet  mother,  meek  and  mild ;       uo 
Take  you  no  thought  nor  weep  for  me, 

For  you  may  have  another  child  ; 
Since  for  my  country's  good  I  dye, 
Death  I  receive  most  willinglye." 

The  king  and  queen  and  all  their  train  us 

With  weeping  eyes  went  then  their  way, 

And  let  their  daughter  there  remain, 
To  be  the  hungry  dragon's  prey  : 

But  as  she  did  there  weeping  lye, 

Behold  St.  George  came  riding  by.  wo 

And  seeing  there  a  lady  bright 
So  rudely  tyed  unto  a  stake, 
As  well  became  a  valiant  knight, 

He  straight  to  her  his  way  did  take  : 
"  Tell  me,  sweet  maiden,"  then  quoth  he,          125 
"  What  caitif  thus  abuseth  thee  ? 

"  And,  lo  !  by  Christ  his  cross  I  vow, 
Which  here  is  figured  on  my  breast, 

I  will  revenge  it  on  his  brow, 

And  break  my  lance  upon  his  chest :  "        iso 

And  speaking  thus  whereas  he  stood, 

The  dragon  issued  from  the  wood. 

The  lady,  that  did  first  espy 
The  dreadful  dragon  coming  so, 


78      ST.  GEORGE  AND  THE  DRAGON. 

Unto  St.  George  aloud  did  cry,  i* 

And  willed  him  away  to  go ; 
"  Here  comes  that  cursed  fiend,"  quoth  she, 
"  That  soon  will  make  an  end  of  me." 

St.  George  then  looking  round  about, 

The  fiery  dragon  soon  espy'd,  HO 

And  like  a  knight  of  courage  stout, 
Against  him  did  most  fiercely  ride  ; 

And  with  such  blows  he  did  him  greet, 

He  fell  beneath  his  horse's  feet. 

For  with  his  launce,  that  was  so  strong,          i« 

As  he  came  gaping  in  his  face, 
In  at  his  mouth  he  thrust  along ; 

For  he  could  pierce  no  other  place  : 
And  thus  within  the  lady's  view 
This  mighty  dragon  straight  he  slew.  iso 

The«savour  of  his  poisoned  breath 
Could  do  this  holy  knight  no  harm  ; 

Thus  he  the  lady  sav'd  from  death, 
And  home  he  led  her  by  the  arm  ; 

Which  when  King  Ptolemy  did  see,  iss 

There  was  great  mirth  and  melody. 

When  as  that  valiant  champion  there 
Had  slain  the  dragon  in  the  field, 

To  court  he  brought  the  lady  fair, 

Which  to  their  hearts  much  joy  did  yield, 


ST.  GEORGE  AND  THE  DRAGON.      79 

He  in  the  court  of  Egypt  staid  isi 

Till  he  most  falsely  was  betray'd. 

That  lady  dearly  lov'd  the  knight, 

He  counted  her  his  only  joy  ; 
But  when  their  love  was  brought  to  light,       iss 

It  turn'd  unto  their  great  annoy. 
Th'  Morocco  king  was  in  the  court, 
Who  to  the  orchard  did  resort ; 

Dayly,  to  take  the  pleasant  air ; 

For  pleasure  sake  he  us'd  to  walk ;  ITO 

Under  a  wall  he  oft  did  hear 

St.  George  with  Lady  Sabra  talk ; 
Their  love  he  shew'd  unto  the  king, 
Which  to  St.  George  great  woe  did  bring. 

Those  kings  together  did  devise  175 

To  make  the  Christian  knight  away  : 

With  letters  him  in  curteous  wise 
They  straightway  sent  to  Persia, 

But  wrote  to  the  sophy  him  to  kill, 

And  treacherously  his  blood  to  spill.  iso 

Thus  they  for  good  did  him  reward 

With  evil,  and  most  subtilly, 
By  such  vile  meanes,  they  had  regard 

To  work  his  death  most  cruelly ; 
Who,  as  through  Persia  land  he  rode,  iss 

With  zeal  destroy'd  each  idol  god. 


80      ST.  GEORGE  AND  THE  DRAGON. 

For  which  offence  he  straight  was  thrown 

Into  a  dungeon  dark  and  deep  ; 
Where,  when  he  thought  his  wrongs  upon, 

He  bitterly  did  wail  and  weep  :  190 

Yet  like  a  knight  of  courage  stout, 
At  length  his  way  he  digged  out. 

Three  grooms  of  the  King  of  Persia 
By  night  this  valiant  champion  slew, 

Though  he  had  fasted  many  a  day,  IPS 

And  then  away  from  thence  he  flew 

On  the  best  steed  the  sophy  had ; 

Which  when  he  knew  he  was  full  mad. 

Towards  Christendom  he  made  his  flight, 
But  met  a  gyant  by  the  way,  200 

With  whom  in  combat  he  did  fight 
Most  valiantly  a  summer's  day : 

Who  yet,  for  all  his  bats  of  steel, 

Was  forc'd  the  sting  of  death  to  feel. 

Back  o'er  the  seas,  with  many  bands  203 

Of  warlike  souldiers  soon  he  past, 

Vowing  upon  those  heathen  lands 
To  work  revenge ;  which  at  the  last, 

Ere  thrice  three  years  were  gone  and  spent, 

He  wrought  unto  his  heart's  content.  210 

Save  onely  Egypt  land  he  spar'd, 
For  Sabra  bright  her  only  sake, 


ST.  GEORGE  AND  THE  DRAGON.      81 

And,  ere  for  her  he  had  regard, 

He  meant  a  tryal  kind  to  make  : 
Meanwhile  the  king,  o'ercome  in  field,  as 

Unto  Saint  George  did  quickly  yield. 

Then  straight  Morocco's  king  he  slew, 

And  took  fair  Sabra  to  his  wife, 
But  meant  to  try  if  she  were  true, 

Ere  with  her  he  would  lead  his  life  ;  220 

And,  tho'  he  had  her  in  his  train, 
She  did  a  virgin  pure  remain. 

Toward  England  then  that  lovely  dame 
The  brave  St.  George  conducted  strait, 

An  eunuch  also  with  them  came,  225 

Who  did  upon  the  lady  wait. 

These  three  from  Egypt  went  alone  : 

Now  mark  St.  George's  valour  shown. 

When  as  they  in  a  forest  were, 

The  lady  did  desire  to  rest :  sso 

Meanwhile  St.  George  to  kill  a  deer 

For  their  repast  did  think  it  best : 
Leaving  her  with  the  eunuch  there, 
Whilst  he  did  go  to  kill  the  deer. 

But  lo  !  all  in  his  absence  came  255 

Two  hungry  lyons,  fierce  and  fell, 

And  tore  the  eunuch  on  the  same 
In  pieces  small,  the  truth  to  tell ; 

VOL.  I.  6 


82      ST.  GEORGE  AND  THE  DRAGON. 

Down  by  the  lady  then  they  laid, 
Whereby  they  shew'd  she  was  a  maid. 

But  when  he  came  from  hunting  back, 
And  did  behold  this  heavy  chance, 

Then  for  his  lovely  virgin's  sake 
His  courage  strait  he  did  advance, 

And  came  into  the  lions  sight, 

Who  ran  at  him  with  all  their  might. 

Their  rage  did  him  no  whit  dismay, 
Who,  like  a  stout  and  valiant  knight, 

Did  both  the  hungry  lyons  slay 
Within  the  Lady  Sabra's  sight : 

Who  all  this  while,  sad  and  demure, 

There  stood  most  like  a  virgin  pure. 

Now  when  St.  George  did  surely  know 
This  lady  was  a  virgin  true, 

His  heart  was  glad,  that  erst  was  woe, 
And  all  his  love  did  soon  renew : 

He  set  her  on  a  palfrey  steed, 

And  towards  England  came  with  speed. 

Where  being  hi  short  space  arriv'd 
Unto  his  native  dwelling  place, 

Therein  with  his  dear  love  he  liv'd, 
And  fortune  did  his  nuptials  grace  : 

They  many  years  of  joy  did  see, 

And  led  their  lives  at  Coventry. 


THE    SEVEN   CHAMPIONS    OF    CHRISTEN 
DOM. 

The  Famous  Historic  of  the  Seven  Champions  of 
Christendom,  is  the  work  of  Richard  Johnson,  a  bal 
lad  maker  of  some  note  at  the  end  of  the  16th  and 
beginning  of  the  1 7th  century.  All  that  is  known  of 
him  may  be  seen  in  Chappel's  Introduction  to  the 
Crown  Garland  of  Golden  Roses,  of  which  Johnson 
was  the  compiler  or  the  author.  (Percy  Society,  vol. 
vi.)  "  The  Story  of  St.  George  and  the  Fair  Sabra," 
says  Percy,  "  is  taken  almost  verbatim  from  the  old 
poetical  legend  of  Sir  Bevis  of  Hampton." 

The  Seven  Champions  is  twice  entered  on  the  Sta 
tioners'  Registers  in  the  year  1596.  It  is  here  re 
printed  from  A  Collection  of  Old  Ballads,  1723,  vol. 
i.  28.  The  same  copy  is  in  Evans's  collection,  i.  372. 

Now  of  the  Seven  Champions  here 

My  purpose  is  to  write, 
To  show  how  they  with  sword  and  spear 

Put  many  foes  to  flight ; 
Distressed  ladies  to  release, 

And  captives  bound  in  chains, 
That  Christian  glory  to  increase 

Which  evermore  remains. 


84  THE    SEVEN    CHAMPIONS 

First,  I  give  you  to  understand 

That  great  Saint  George  by  name, 
Was  the  true  champion  of  our  land ; 

And  of  his  birth  and  fame, 
And  of  his  noble  mother's  dream, 

Before  that  he  was  born, 
The  which  to  her  did  clearly  seem 

Her  days  would  be  forlorn. 

This  was  her  dream ;  that  she  did  bear 

A  dragon  in  her  womb  ; 
"Which  griev'd  this  noble  lady  fair, 

'Cause  death  must  be  her  doom. 
This  sorrow  she  could  not  conceal, 

So  dismal  was  her  fear, 
So  that  she  did  the  same  reveal 

Unto  her  husband  dear ; 

Who  went  for  to  inquire  straight 

Of  an  enchanteress ; 
When,  knocking  at  her  iron  gate, 

Her  answer  it  was  this : 
"  The  lady  shall  bring  forth  a  son, 

By  whom,  in  tract  of  time, 
Great  noble  actions  shall  be  done  ; 

He  will  to  honour  climb. 

"  For  he  shall  be  in  banners  wore ; 

This  truth  I  will  maintain ; 
Your  lady,  she  shall  die  before 


OF    CHRISTENDOM.  85 

You  see  her  face  again." 
His  leave  he  took,  and  home  he  went ; 

His  wife  departed  lay ; 
But  that  which  did  his  grief  augment, 

The  child  was  stole  away.  « 

Then  did  he  travel  in  despair, 

Where  soon  with  grief  he  died ; 
While  the  young  child,  his  son  and  heir, 

Did  constantly  abide 
With  the  wise  lady  of  the  grove,  « 

In  her  enchanted  cell ; 
Amongst  the  woods  he  oft  did  rove, 

His  beauty  pleased  her  well. 

Blinded  with  love,  she  did  impart, 

Upon  a  certain  day,  so 

To  him  her  cunning  magic  art, 

And  where  six  Champions  lay 
Within  a  brazen  castle  strong, 

By  an  enchanted  sleep, 
And  where  they  had  continued  long ;  « 

She  did  the  castle  keep. 

She  taught  and  show'd  him  every  thing 

Through  being  free  and  fond ; 
Which  did  her  fatal  ruin  bring ; 

For  with  a  silver  wand  00 

He  clos'd  her  up  into  a  rock, 

By  giving  one  small  stroke ; 


86  THE    SEVEN    CHAMPIONS 

So  took  possession  of  her  stock, 
And  the  enchantment  broke. 

Those  Christian  Champions  being  freed 

From  their  enchanted  state, 
Each  mounted  on  his  prancing  steed, 

And  took  to  travel  straight ; 
Where  we  will  leave  them  to  pursue 

Kind  fortune's  favours  still, 
To  treat  of  our  own  champion,  who 

Did  courts  with  wonders  fill. 

For  as  he  came  to  understand, 

At  an  old  hermit's  cell, 
How,  in  the  vast  Egyptian  land, 

A  dragon  fierce  and  fell 
Threatened  the  ruin  of  them  all, 

By  his  devouring  jaws, 
His  sword  releas'd  them  from  that  thrall, 

And  soon  remov'd  the  cause. 

This  dreadful  dragon  must  destroy 

A  virgin  every  day, 
Or  else  with  stinks  he'U  them  annoy, 

And  many  thousands  slay. 
At  length  the  king's  own  daughter  dear, 

For  whom  the  court  did  mourn, 
Was  brought  to  be  devoured  here, 

For  she  must  take  her  turn. 


OF    CHRISTENDOM.  87 

The  king  by  proclamation  said, 

If  any  hardy  knight  » 

Could  free  this  fair  young  royal  maid, 

And  slay  the  dragon  quite, 
Then  should  he  have  her  for  his  bride, 

And,  after  death,  likewise 
His  crown  and  kingdom  too  beside :  » 

Saint  George  he  won  the  prize. 

When  many  hardy  strokes  he'd  dealt, 

And  could  not  pierce  his  hide, 
He  run  his  sword  up  to  the  hilt 

In  at  the  dragon's  side ;  100 

By  which  he  did  his  life  destroy, 

Which  cheer'd  the  drooping  king ; 
This  caused  an  universal  joy, 

Sweet  peals  of  bells  did  ring. 

The  daughter  of  a  king,  for  pride  MB 

Transformed  into  a  tree 
Of  mulberries,  Saint  Denis  spied, 

And  being  hungery, 
Of  that  fair  fruit  he  ate  a  part, 

And  was  transformed  likewise  ut 

Into  the  fashion  of  a  hart, 

For  seven  years  precise. 

At  which  he  long  bewail'd  the  loss 

Of  manly  shape :  then  goes 
To  him  his  true  and  trusty  horse,  us 

107,  which  Dennis. 


88  THE    SEVEN   CHAMPIONS 

And  brings  a  blushing  rose, 
By  which  the  magic  spell  was  broke, 

And  both  were  fairly  freed 
From  the  enchanted  heavy  yoke  : 

They  then  in  love  agreed.  120 

Now  we  come  to  Saint  James  of  Spain, 

Who  slew  a  mighty  boar, 
In  hopes  that  he  might  honour  gain, 

But  he  must  die  therefore : 
Who  was  allow'd  his  death  to  choose,          125 

Which  was  by  virgins'  darts, 
But  they  the  same  did  all  refuse, 

So  tender  were  their  hearts. 

The  king's  daughter  at  length,  by  lot, 

Was  doomed  to  work  his  woe ;  iao 

From  her  fair  hands  a  fatal  shot, 

Out  of  a  golden  bow, 
Must  put  a  period  to  the  strife ; 

At  which  grief  did  her  seize. 
She  of  her  father  begg'd  his  life  135 

Upon  her  bended  knees  ; 

Saying,  "  my  gracious  sovereign  Lord, 

And  honoured  father  dear, 
He  well  deserves  a  large  reward ; 

Then  be  not  so  severe.  i*> 

Give  me  his  life  !  "     He  grants  the  boon, 

And  then  without  delay, 


OF    CHRISTENDOM.  89 

This  Spanish  champion,  ere  'twas  noon, 
Rid  with  her  quite  away. 

Now  come  we  to  Saint  Anthony,  us 

A  man  with  valour  fraught, 
The  champion  of  fair  Italy, 

Who  many  wonders  wrought. 
First,  he  a  mighty  giant  slew, 

The  terror  of  mankind  :  ino 

Young  ladies  fair,  pure  virgins  too, 

This  giant  kept  confined 

Within  his  castle  walls  of  stone, 

And  gates  of  solid  brass, 
Where  seven  ladies  made  their  moan,         iss 

But  out  they  could  not  pass. 
Many  brave  lords,  and  knights  likewise, 

To  free  them  did  engage, 
Who  fell  a  bleeding  sacrifice 

To  this  fierce  giant's  rage.  wo 

Fair  daughters  to  a  royal  king ! 

Yet  fortune,  after  all, 
Did  our  renowned  champion  bring 

To  free  them  from  their  thrall. 
Assisted  by  the  hand  of  heaven,  m 

He  ventured  life  and  limb  : 
Behold  the  fairest  of  the  seven, 

She  fell  in  love  with  him. 


90  THE    SEVEN    CHAMPIONS 

That  champion  good,  bold  Saint  Andrew, 

The  famous  Scottish  knight,  izo 

Dark  gloomy  deserts  travelled  through, 

Where  Phosbus  gave  no  light. 
Haunted  with  spirits,  for  a  while 

His  weary  course  he  steers, 
Till  fortune  blessed  him  with  a  smile,          ITS 

And  shook  off  all  his  fears. 

This  Christian  champion  travell'd  long, 

Till  at  the  length  he  came 
Unto  the  giant's  castle  strong, 

Great  Blanderon  by  name,  iso 

Where  the  king's  daughters  were  transform'd 

Into  the  shape  of  swans : 
Though  them  he  freed,  their  father  storm'd, 

But  he  his  malice  shuns. 

For  though  five  hundred  armed  knights      iss 

Did  straight  beset  him  round, 
Our  Christian  champion  with  them  fights, 

Till  on  the  heathen  ground 
Most  of  those  Pagans  bleeding  lay ; 

Which  much  perplexed  the  king ;  190 

The  Scottish  champion  clears  the  way, 

Which  was  a  glorious  thing. 

Saint  Patrick  too,  of  Ireland, 
That  noble  knight  of  fame, 
He  travelled,  as  we  understand,  195 


OF   CHRISTENDOM.  91 

Till  at  the  length  he  came 
Into  a  grove  where  satyrs  dwelt, 

Where  ladies  he  beheld, 
Who  had  their  raged  fury  felt, 

And  were  with  sorrow  fill'd.  200 

He  drew  his  sword,  and  did  maintain 

A  sharp  and  bloody  fray, 
Till  the  ring-leader  he  had  slain ; 

The  rest  soon  fled  away. 
This  done,  he  asked  the  ladies  fair,  205 

Who  were  in  silks  array'd, 
From  whence  they  came,  and  who  they  were. 

They  answered  him  and  said  : 

"  We  are  all  daughters  to  a  king, 

Whom  a  brave  Scottish  knight  ao 

Did  out  of  tribulation  bring  : 

He  having  took  his  flight, 
Now  after  him  we  are  in  quest." 

Saint  Patrick  then  replies, 
"  He  is  my  friend,  I  cannot  rest  a« 

Till  I  find  him  likewise. 

"  So,  ladies,  if  you  do  intend 

To  take  your  lot  with  me, 
This  sword  of  mine  shall  you  defend 

From  savage  cruelty."  220 

The  ladies  freely  gave  consent 

To  travel  many  miles ; 


92  THE    SEVEN   CHAMPIONS 

Through  shady  groves  and  woods  they  went, 
In  search  of  fortune's  smiles. 

The  Christian  champion  David,  went          225 

To  the  Tartarian  court, 
Where  at  their  tilt  and  tournament, 

And  such  like  royal  sport, 
He  overthrew  the  only  son 

Of  the  Count  Palatine  ;  290 

This  noble  action  being  done 

His  fame  began  to  shine. 

The  young  Count's  sad  and  sudden  death 

Turn'd  all  their  joys  to  grief  ; 
He  bleeding  lay,  bereaved  of  breath,  235 

The  father's  son  in  chief; 
But  lords  and  ladies  blazed  the  fame 

Of  our  brave  champion  bold ; 
Saying,  they  ought  to  write  his  name 

In  characters  of  gold.  a« 

Here  have  I  writ  a  fair  account 

Of  each  heroic  deed, 
Done  by  these  knights,  which  will  surmount 

All  those  that  shall  succeed. 
The  ancient  chronicles  of  kings,  2*5 

Ere  since  the  world  begun, 
Can't  boast  of  such  renowned  things 

As  these  brave  knights  have  done. 


OF   CHRISTENDOM.  93 

Saint  George  he  was  for  England, 

Saint  Dennis  was  for  France,  250 

Saint  James  for  Spain,  whose  valiant  hand 

Did  Christian  fame  advance  : 
Saint  Anthony  for  Italy, 

Andrew  for  Scots  ne'er  fails, 
Patrick  too  stands  for  Ireland,  255 

Saint  David  was  for  Wales. 

Thus  have  you  those  stout  champions  names 

In  this  renowned  song : 
Young  captive  ladies  bound  in  chains, 

Confined  in  castles  strong,  aao 

They  did  by  knightly  prowess  free, 

True  honour  to  maintain  : 
Then  let  their  lasting  memory 

From  age  to  age  remain. 


THOMAS  OF  ERSSELDOUNE. 

THIS  beautiful  tale  is  transferred  to  these  pages  from 
Mr.  Laing's  Select  Remains  of  the  Ancient  Popular 
Poetry  of  Scotland.  The  two  "  fytts  "  of  prophecies 
which  accompany  it  in  the  manuscripts,  are  omitted 
here,  as  being  probably  the  work  of  another,  and  an 
inferior,  hand.  From  the  exordium  by  which  the  story 
is  introduced,  it  might  be  concluded  that  the  author 
was  an  Englishman.  Indeed,  all  the  poems  and  pro 
phecies  attributed  to  Thomas  the  Khimer  which  re 
main  to  us,  are  preserved  in  English  manuscripts  and 
an  English  dress ;  but,  in  the  judgment  of  Mr.  Jamieson, 
the  internal  evidence  still  almost  amounts  to  proof  that 
the  romance  itself  was  of  Scottish  origin,  although  no 
indubitably  Scottish  copy  is  now  known  to  be  in  ex 
istence. 

The  hero  of  this  legend  is  believed  to  have  lived 
through  nearly  the  whole  of  the  13th  century.  He 
derived  his  territorial  appellation  from  the  village  of 
Erceldoune,  in  the  county  of  Berwick,  lying  on  the 
river  Leader,  about  two  miles  above  its  junction  with 
the  Tweed.  The  Huntly  bank  on  which  the  meeting 
of  Thomas  with  the  Queen  of  Fairy  took  place,  is 
situated,  according  to  Mr.  Laing,  on  one  of  the  Eldoun 
hills,  but  the  same  distinction  is  claimed  for  another 
place  of  like  name,  which,  together  with  an  adjoining 
ravine,  called  from  time  immemorial  the  Rymer's  Glen, 


96  THOMAS    OF   ERSSELDOUNE. 

was  included  in  the  domain  of  Abbotsford.  (See 
Minstrelsy  of  the  Scottish  Border,  iv.  110,  v.  1.) 

"During  the  14th,  15th,  and  16th  centuries,  to  get 
up  a  prophecy  in  the  name  of  Thomas  the  Rhymer 
appears  to  have  been  found  a  good  stroke  of  policy  on 
many  occasions.  Thus  was  his  authority  employed  to 
countenance  the  views  of  Edward  III.  against  Scottish 
independence,  to  favor  the  ambitious  views  of  the 
Duke  of  Albany  in  the  minority  of  James  V.,  and  to 
sustain  the  spirits  of  the  nation  under  the  harassing 
invasions  of  Henry  VIII.  A  small  volume  containing 
a  collection  of  the  rhymes  thus  put  into  circulation 
was  published  by  Andro  Hart  in  Edinburgh,  in  1615." 
—  CHAMBERS,  Pop.  Rhymes  of  Scotland,  p.  6. 

"  This  poem,"  says  Mr.  Laing,  "  is  preserved  in 
three  ancient  manuscripts,  each  of  them  in  a  state  more 
or  less  mutilated,  and  varying  in  no  inconsiderable  de 
gree  from  the  others.  A  portion  of  it  was  first  printed 
in  the  Border  Minstrelsy,  [iv.  122,]  from  the  fragment 
in  the  British  Museum,  among  the  Cotton  MSS. ;  and 
the  one  which  Mr.  Jamieson  adopted  in  his  collection 
of  Popular  Ballads  and  Songs  [ii.  11,]  was  carefully 
deciphered  from  a  volume  of  no  ordinary  curiosity,  in 
the  University  Library,  Cambridge,  written  in  a  very 
illegible  hand,  about  the  middle  of  the  15th  century. 
It  is  now  printed  from  the  other  copy,  as  it  occurs  in 
a  volume,  compiled  at  a  still  earlier  period,  which  is 
preserved  in  the  Cathedral  Library  of  Lincoln.  On 
comparison,  it  will  be  readily  perceived,  that  the  text 
is  in  every  respect  preferable  to  that  of  either  of  the 
other  manuscripts.  .  .  .  An  endeavor  has  been 
made  to  fill  up  the  defective  parts  from  the  Cambridge 
copy,  though  in  some  instances,  as  will  be  seen,  without 


THOMAS    OF    ERSSELDOUNE.  97 

success." — Mr.  Halliwell  has  republished  the  Cam 
bridge  text  in  his  Fairy  Mythology,  (p.  58,)  and  he 
cites  a  fourth  manuscript,  which,  however,  appears  to 
be  of  slight  importance. 


THOMAS    OF    ERSSELDOUNE. 

Lystnys,  lordyngs,  bothe  grete  and  smale, 
And  takis  gude  tente  what  I  will  say : 
I  sail  yow  telle  als  trewe  a  tale, 
Als  euer  was  herde  by  nyghte  or  daye : 

And  the  maste  meruelle  fforowttyn  naye,          5 
That  euer  was  herde  byfore  or  syen, 
And  therfore  pristly  I  yow  praye, 
That  ye  will  of  youre  talkyng  blyn. 

It  es  an  harde  thyng  for  to  saye, 

Of  doghety  dedis  that  hase  bene  done ;  10 

Of  felle  feghtyngs  and  batells  sere  ; 

And  how  that  knyghtis  hase  wonne  thair  schone. 

Bot  Jhesu  Christ,  that  syttis  in  trone, 
Safe  Ynglysche  men  bothe  ferre  and  nere  ; 
And  1  sail  telle  yow  tyte  and  sone,  is 

Of  battells  done  sythen  many  a  yere  ; 

And  of  batells  that  done  sail  bee  ; 
In  whate  place,  and  howe  and  whare  ; 
Ajid  wha  sail  hafe  the  heghere  gree ; 
And  whethir  partye  sail  hafe  the  werre ;          20 
VOL.  i.  7 


THOMAS    OF   ERSSELDOUNE. 

Wha  sail  take  the  flyghte  and  flee ; 
And  wha  sail  dye  and  byleue  thare : 
Bot  Jhesu  Christ,  that  dyed  on  tre, 
Saue  Inglysche  men  whare  so  thay  fare. 


Als  I  me  wente  this  endres-daye, 
Full  faste  in  mynd  makane  my  mone, 
In  a  mery  mornynge  of  May, 
By  Huntle  bankkes  my  selfe  allone, 

I  herde  the  jaye,  and  the  '  throstelle/ 
The  mawys  menyde  of  hir  songe, 
The  wodewale  beryde  als  a  belle, 
That  all  the  wode  abowte  me  ronge. 

Allone  in  longynge,  thus  als  I  laye, 
Vndre  nethe  a  semely  tre, 
1  Saw  I '  whare  a  lady  gaye, 
'  Came  ridand '  ouer  a  longe  lee. 

If  I  suld  sytt  to  Domesdaye, 

With  my  tonge,  to  wrebbe  and  wrye, 

Certanely  that  lady  gaye, 

Neuer  bese  scho  askryede  for  mee. 

Hir  palfraye  was  a  dappill  graye ; 
Swilke  one  I  saghe  ne  neuer  none  : 
Als  dose  the  sonne,  on  someres  daye, 
That  faire  lady  hir  selfe  scho  schone. 

22,  Laing,  by  tene.    5,  Line.  MS.  throstylle  cokke. 


THOMAS    OF    ERSSELDOUNE. 

Hir  selle  it  was  of  reele  bone, 
Full  semely  was  that  syghte  to  see  ! 
Stefly  sett  with  precyous  stones. 
And  compaste  all  with  crapotee, 

Stones  of  Oryence,  grete  plente. 

Hir  hare  abowte  hir  hede  it  hange ; 

Scho  rode  ouer  that  lange  lee  ; 

A  whylle  scho  blewe,  a  nother  scho  sange. 

Hir  garthes  of  nobyll  sylke  they  were  ; 
The  bukylls  were  of  berelle  stone  ; 
Hir  steraps  were  of  crystalle  clere, 
And  all  with  perelle  ouer  bygone. 

Hir  payetrelle  was  of  iralle  fyne  ; 
Hir  cropoure  was  of  orfare  ; 
And  als  clere  golde  hir  brydill  it  schone  ; 
One  aythir  syde  hange  bellys  three. 

'  Scho  led  seuen  grew  houndis  in  a  leeshe ; ' 
And  seuen  raches  by  hir  they  rone ; 
Scho  bare  a  home  abowte  hir  halse  ; 
And  vnder  hir  belte  full  many  a  flone. 

Thomas  laye  and  sawe  that  syghte, 
Vnder  nethe  ane  semly  tree  ; 
He  sayd,  "  yone  es  Marye  most  of  myghte, 
That  bare  that  childe  that  dyede  for  mee. 

21,  sette,  Laing. 


100  THOMAS    OF    ERSSELDOUNE. 

"  But  if  I  speke  with  yone  lady  bryghte, 
I  hope  myn  herte  will  bryste  in  three ; 
Now  sail  I  go  with  all  my  myghte, 
Hir  for  to  mete  at  Eldoun  tree." 

Thomas  rathely  vpe  he  rase, 

And  he  rane  ouer  that  mountayne  hye  ; 

Gyff  it  be  als  the  storye  sayes, 

He  hir  mette  at  Eldone  tree. 

He  knelyde  down  appon  his  knee, 
Yndir  nethe  that  grenwode  spraye  :  — 
And  sayd,  "  lufly  ladye  !  rewe  one  mee ; 
Qwene  of  heuen,  als  thu  wele  maye  !  " 

Then  spake  that  lady  milde  of  thoghte :  - 
"  Thomas,  late  swylke  wordes  bee  ; 
Qwene  of  heuenne,  am  I  noghte, 
For  I  tuke  neuer  so  heghe  degre. 

"  Bot  I  ame  of  ane  other  contree, 
If  I  be  payrelde  moste  of  prysse  ; 
I  ryde  aftyre  this  wylde  fee  ; 
My  raches  rynnys  at  my  devyse." 

"  If  thu  be  parelde  moste  of  prysse, 
And  here  rydis  thus  in  thy  folye, 
Of  lufe,  lady,  als  thu  art  wysse, 
Thou  gyffe  me  leue  to  lye  the  bye." 


THOMAS    OF    ERSSELDOUNE.  101 

Scho  sayde,  "  thu  man,  that  ware  folye  ; 

I  praye  the,  Thomas,  thu  lat  me  bee ;  ro 

Ffor  I  saye  the  full  sekirlye, 

That  synne  will  fordoo  all  my  beaute." 

"  Now  lufly  ladye  rewe  on  mee, 
And  I  will  euer  more  with  the  duelle  ; 
Here  my  trouthe  I  *  plyghte  to  thee,'  7s 

Wethir  thu  will  in  heuen  or  helle." 

"  Mane  of  molde,  thu  will  me  marre, 
But  yitt  thu  sail  hafe  all  thy  will ; 
And  trowe  it  wele,  thu  chewys  the  werre, 
Ffor  alle  my  beaute  will  thu  spylle."  so 

Down  than  lyghte  that  lady  bryghte, 
Vndir  nethe  that  grene  wode  spraye  ; 
And,  als  the  storye  tellis  full  ryghte, 
Seuen  sythis  by  hir  he  laye. 

Scho  sayd,  "  man,  the  lykes  thi  playe  :  85 

What  byrde  in  boure  maye  delle  with  the  ? 
Thou  merrys  me  all  this  longe  daye ; 
I  pray  the,  Thomas,  late  me  bee." 

Thomas  stode  wpe  in  that  stede, 

And  he  byhelde  that  lady  gaye ;  90 

Hir  hare  it  hange  all  ouer  hir  hede, 

Hir  eghne  semede  owte,  that  are  were  graye. 


102  THOMAS    OF    ERSSELDOUNE. 

And  all  the  riclie  clothynge  was  awaye, 
That  he  byfore  sawe  in  that  stede ; 
Hir  a  schanke  blake,  hir  other  graye,  as 

And  all  hir  body  lyke  the  lede  ; 

Thomas  laye,  and  sawe  that  syghte, 
Vndir  nethe  that  grenewod  tree. 

Than  sayd  Thomas,  "  alias  !  alias  ! 

In  faythe  this  es  a  dullfull  syghte  ;  100 

How  arte  thu  fadyde  thus  in  the  face, 

That  schane  byfore  als  the  sonne  so  bryght !  " 

Scho  sayd,  "  Thomas,  take  leve  at  sone  and 

mone, 

And  als  at  lefe  that  grewes  on  tree ; 
This  twelmoneth  sail  thu  with  me  gone,          105 
And  medill-erthe  thu  sail  non  see." 

He  knelyd  downe  appon  his  knee, 
Vndir  nethe  that  grenewod  spraye  ; 
And  sayd,  "  Lufly  lady  !  rewe  on  mee, 
Mylde  qwene  of  heuen,  als  thu  beste  maye."  no 

"  Alias !  "  he  sayd,  "  and  wa  es  mee, 
I  trewe  my  dedis  will  wirke  me  care  ; 
My  saulle,  Jhesu,  byteche  I  the, 
Whedir  come  that  euer  my  banes  sail  fare." 

109,  Lufly  lady,  i.  e.  Mary. 


THOMAS    OF    ERSSELDOHNE.  103 

Scho  ledde  hym  in  at  Eldone  hill,  us 

Vndir  nethe  a  derne  lee  ; 
Whare  it  was  dirk  as  mydnyght  myrke, 
And  euer  the  water  till  his  knee. 

The  montenans  of  dayes  three, 
He  herd  bot  swoghyne  of  the  node  ;  u» 

At  the  laste,  he  sayde,  "  full  wa  es  mee  ! 
Almaste  I  dye,  for  fawte  of  fude." 

Scho  lede  hym  in  till  a  faire  herbere, 
Whare  frwte  was  '  growyng  in  gret  plentee  ; ' 
Pers  and  appill,  bothe  rype  thay  were,  125 

The  date,  and  als  the  damasee ; 

The  fygge,  and  als  so  the  wyne-berye ; 
The  nyghtyngales  lyggande  on  thair  neste ; 
The  papeioyes  faste  abowte  gan  flye ; 
And  throstylls  sange,  wolde  hafe  no  reste.      iso 

He  pressede  to  pulle  frowte  with  his  hande, 
Als  man  for  fude  that  was  nere  faynt ; 
Scho  sayd,  "  Thomas,  thu  late  tham  stande, 
Or  ells  the  fende  the  will  atteynt. 

"  If  thu  it  plokk,  sothely  to  say,  isc 

Thi  saule  gose  to  the  fyre  of  helle  ; 
It  comes  neuer  owte  or  Domesdaye, 
Bot  ther  in  payne  ay  for  to  duelle. 


104  THOMAS    OF    ERSSELDOUNE. 

"  Thomas,  sothely,  I  the  hyghte, 
Come  lygge  thyn  hede  down  on  my  knee,      wo 
And  '  thou '  sail  se  the  fayreste  syghte, 
That  euer  sawe  man  of  thi  contree." 

He  did  in  hye  als  scho  hym  badde ; 
Appone  hir  knee  his  hede  he  layde, 
Ffor  hir  to  paye  he  was  full  glade,  i« 

And  than  that  lady  to  him  sayde — 

"  Seese  thu  nowe  yone  faire  waye, 
That  lyggis  ouer  yone  heghe  montayne  ? — 
Yone  es  the  waye  to  heuen  for  aye, 
When  synfull  sawles  are  passed  ther  payne.  ia> 

"  Seese  thu  nowe  yone  other  waye, 
That  lygges  lawe  by  nethe  yone  rysse  ? 
Yone  es  the  waye,  the  sothe  to  saye, 
Vnto  the  joye  of  paradyse. 

"  Seese  thu  yitt  yone  third  waye,  IM 

That  ligges  vnder  yone  grene  playne  ? 
Yone  es  the  waye,  with  tene  and  traye, 
Whare  synfull  saulis  suffiris  thare  payne. 

"  Bot  seese  thu  nowe  yone  forthe  waye, 
That  lygges  ouer  yone  depe  delle  ?  100 

Yone  es  the  way,  so  waylawaye, 
Vnto  the  byrnande  fyre  of  hell. 


THOMAS    OF    ERSSELDOUNE.  105 

"  Seese  thu  yitt  yone  faire  castelle, 
That  standes  vpone  yone  heghe  hill  ? 
Of  towne  and  towre,  it  beris  the  belle ;  ra 

In  erthe  es  none  lyk  it  vntill. 

"  Ffor  sothe,  Thomas,  yone  es  myn  awenn, 
And  the  kynges  of  this  countree ; 
Bot  me  ware  leuer  hanged  and  drawen, 
Or  that  he  wyste  thou  laye  me  by.  iro 

"  When  thu  commes  to  yone  castelle  gay, 
I  pray  the  curtase  man  to  bee  ; 
And  whate  so  any  man  to  the  saye, 
Luke  thu  answere  none  bott  mee. 

"  My  lorde  es  seruede  at  ylk  a  mese,  m 

With  thritty  knyghttis  faire  and  free  ; 
I  sail  saye,  syttande  at  the  dasse, 
I  tuke  thi  speche  byyonde  the  see." 

Thomas  still  als  stane  he  stude. 

And  he  byhelde  that  lady  gaye ;  iao 

Scho  come  agayne  als  faire  and  gude, 

And  al  so  ryche  one  hir  palfraye. 

Hir  grewe  hundis  fillide  with  dere  blode ; 
Hir  rachis  couplede,  by  my  faye  ; 
Scho  blewe  hir  home  with  mayne  and  mode,  is« 
Vnto  the  castelle  scho  tuk  the  waye. 


106  THOMAS    OF   ERSSELDOUNE. 

In  to  the  haulle  sothely  scho  went ; 

Thomas  foloued  at  hir  hande  ; 

Than  ladyes  come,  bothe  faire  and  gent, 

With  curtassye  to  hir  knelande.  190 

Harpe  and  fethill  bothe  thay  fande, 
Getterne,  and  als  so  the  sawtrye ; 
Lutte  and  rybybe,  bothe  gangande, 
And  all  manere  of  mynstralsye. 

The  most  meruelle  that  Thomas  thoghte,        195 

When  that  he  stode  appon  the  flore ; 

Ffor  feftty  hertes  in  were  broghte, 

That  were  bothe  '  largely '  grete  and  store. 

Raches  laye  lapande  in  the  blode, 
Cokes  come  with  dryssynge  knyfe ;  200 

They  brittened  tham  als  thay  were  wode ; 
Reuelle  amanges  thame  was  full  ryfe. 

Knyghtis  dawnsede  by  three  and  three, 
Thare  was  revelle,  gamen,  and  playe, 
Lufly  ladyes,  faire  and  free,  205 

That  satte  and  sange  one  riche  araye. 

Thomas  duellide  in  that  solace 

More  than  I  yowe  saye,  perde ; 

Till  one  a  daye,  so  hafe  I  grace, 

My  lufly  lady  sayde  to  mee :  210 


THOMAS    OF    ERSSELDOUNE.  107 

"  Do  busk  the,  Thomas, — the  busk  agayne, 
Ffor  thu  may  here  no  lengare  be ; 
Hye  the  faste,  with  myghte  and  mayne ; 
I  sail  the  brynge  till  Eldone  tree." 

Thomas  sayde  than  with  heuy  chere ;  21* 

"  Lufly  lady,  nowe  late  me  bee ; 
Ffor  certis,  lady,  I  hafe  bene  here 
Noghte  bot  the  space  of  dayes  three. 

"  Ffor  sothe,  Thomas,  als  I  the  telle, 
Thou  hase  bene  here  thre  yere  and  more ;      220 
Bot  langere  here  thu  may  noghte  dwelle ; 
The  skylle  I  sail  the  telle  wherefore. 

"  To  morne,  of  helle  the  foulle  fende 
Amange  this  folke  will  feche  his  fee ; 
And  thu  arte  mekill  man  and  hende,  225 

I  trowe  full  wele  he  wolde  chese  the. 

"  Ffor  all  the  gold  that  euer  may  bee, 
Ffro  hethyn  unto  the  worldis  ende, 
Thou  bese  neuer  betrayede  for  mee  ; 
Therefore  with  me  I  rede  thou  wende."          230 

Scho  broghte  hym  agayne  to  Eldone  tree,  ' 
Vndir  nethe  that  grenewode  spraye ; 
In  Huntlee  bannkes  es  mery  to  bee, 
Whare  fowles  synges  bothe  nyght  and  daye. 
211,  buse  agayne. 


108  THOMAS    OF   ERSSELDOUNE. 

"  Fferre  owtt  in  yone  mountane  graye,  235 

Thomas,  my  fawkon  byggis  a  neste  ;  — 
A  fawcoun  is  an  eglis  praye ; 
Fforthi  in  na  place  may  he  reste. 

"  Ffare  well,  Thomas ;  I  wend  my  waye  ; 
Ffor  me  byhouys  ouer  thir  benttis  brown."     240 
— Loo  here  a  fy tt :  more  es  to  saye, 
All  of  Thomas  of  Erselldown. — 


THOMAS  THE  RHYMER. 

TRADITIONAL    VERSION. 

Minstrelsy  of  the  Scottish  Border,  (iv.  117.)  "  Given 
from  a  copy  obtained  from  a  lady  residing  not  far  from 
Ercildoune,  corrected  and  enlarged  by  one  in  Mrs. 
Brown's  MSS." 

TRUE  THOMAS  lay  on  Huntlie  bank ; 

A  ferlie  he  spied  wi'  his  ee ; 
And  there  he  saw  a  ladye  bright, 

Come  riding  down  by  the  Eildon  Tree. 

Her  shirt  was  o'  the  grass-green  silk,  6 

Her  mantle  o'  the  velvet  fyne ; 
At  ilka  tett  of  her  horse's  mane, 

Hung  fifty  siller  bells  and  nine. 

True  Thomas,  he  pulPd  aff  his  cap, 

And  louted  low  down  to  his  knee  :  10 

"  All  hail,  thou  mighty  Queen  of  Heaven  ! 

For  thy  peer  on  earth  I  never  did  see." — 


110  THOMAS    THE    RHYMEK. 

"O  no,  0  no,  Thomas,"  she  said, 
"  That  name  does  not  belang  to  me  ; 
I  am  but  the  Queen  of  fair  Elfland, 
That  am  hither  come  to  visit  thee. 

"  Harp  and  carp,  Thomas,"  she  said ; 
"  Harp  and  carp  along  wi'  me  ; 
And  if  ye  dare  to  kiss  my  lips, 
Sure  of  your  bodie  I  will  be." — 

"  Betide  me  weal,  betide  me  woe, 

That  weird  shall  never  daunton  me." — 
Syne  he  has  kissed  her  rosy  lips, 
All  underneath  the  Eildon  Tree. 

"  Now,  ye  maun  go  wi'  me,"  she  said  ; 
"  True  Thomas,  ye  maun  go  wi'  me  ; 
And  ye  maun  serve  me  seven  years, 

Thro'  weal  or  woe  as  may  chance  to  be." 

She  mounted  on  her  milk-white  steed  ; 

She's  ta'en  true  Thomas  up  behind  : 
And  aye,  whene'er  her  bridle  rung, 

The  steed  flew  swifter  than  the  wind. 

O  they  rade  on,  and  farther  on  ; 

The  steed  gaed  swifter  than  the  wind ; 
Until  they  reach'd  a  desert  wide, 

And  living  land  was  left  behind. 


THOMAS    THE   RHYMER.  Ill 

"  Light  down,  light  down,  now,  true  Thomas, 

And  lean  your  head  upon  my  knee  ; 
Abide  and  rest  a  little  space, 

And  I  will  shew  you  ferlies  three*  *» 

"  O  see  ye  not  yon  narrow  road, 

So  thick  beset  with  thorns  and  briers  ? 
That  is  the  path  of  righteousness, 
Though  after  it  but  few  enquires. 

"  And  see  ye  not  that  braid  braid  road,  45 

That  lies  across  that  lily  leven  ? 
That  is  the  path  of  wickedness, 

Though  some  call  it  the  road  to  heaven. 

"  And  see  not  ye  that  bonny  road, 

That  winds  about  the  fernie  brae  ?  so 

That  is  the  road  to  fail-  Elfland, 

Where  thou  and  I  this  night  maun  gae. 

"  But,  Thomas,  ye  maun  hold  your  tongue, 

Whatever  ye*  may  hear  or  see  ; 
For,  if  you  speak  word  in  Elfyn  land,  « 

Ye'll  ne'er  get  back  to  your  ain  countrie." 

0  they  rade  on,  and  farther  on,  [knee, 

And  they  waded  through  rivers  aboon  the 

And  they  saw  neither  sun  nor  moon, 

But  they  heard  the  roaring  of  the  sea.         *> 


112  THOMAS    THE    RHYMER. 

Tt  was   mirk  mirk  night,  and  there  was  nae 

stern  light, 
And  they  waded  through  red  blude  to  the 

knee; 
For  a'  the  blude  that's  shed  on  earth 

Rins  through  the  springs  o'  that  countrie. 

Syne  they  came  on  to  a  garden  green,  es 

And  she  pu'd  an  apple  frae  a  tree — 
"  Take  this  for  thy  wages,  true  Thomas  ; 

It  will  give  thee  the  tongue  that  can  never 
lie."— 

"  My  tongue  is  mine  ain,"  true  Thomas  said  ; 
"  A  gudely  gift  ye  wad  gie  to  me  !  ro 

I  neither  dought  to  buy  nor  sell, 
At  fair  or  tryst  where  I  may  be. 

"  I  dought  neither  speak  to  prince  or  peer, 
Nor  ask  of  grace  from  fair  ladye." — 

"  Now  hold  thy  peace  ! "  the  lady  said,  n 

"  For  as  I  say,  so  must  it  be." — 


70.  The  traditional  commentary  upon  this  ballad  informs  us, 
that  the  apple  was  the  produce  of  the  fatal  Tree  of  Knowl 
edge,  and  that  the  garden  was  the  terrestrial  paradise.  The 
repugnance  of  Thomas  to  be  debarred  the  use  of  falsehood, 
when  he  might  find  it  convenient,  has  a  comic  effect. 

SCOTT. 


THOMAS    THE    RHYMER.  118 

He  has  gotten  a  coat  of  the  even  cloth, 
And  a  pair  of  shoes  of  velvet  green ; 

And  till  seven  years  were  gane  and  past, 
True  Thomas  on  earth  was  never  seen.        so 

VOL.  i.  8 


THE  YOUNG  TAMLANE. 


THE  Tayl  of  the  Yong  Tamlene  is  mentioned  in  the 
Complaynt  of  Scotland,  (1548,)  and  the  dance  of  Thorn 
of  Lyn  is  noticed  in  the  same  work.  A  considerable 
fragment  of  this  ballad  was  printed  by  Herd,  (vol.  i. 
215,)  under  the  title  of  Kertonha',  a  corruption  of 
Carterhaugh ;  another  is  furnished  in  Maidment's  New 
Book  of  Old  Ballads,  (p.  54,)  and  a  nearly  complete 
version  in  Johnson's  Museum,  (p.  423,)  which,  with 
some  alterations,  was  inserted  in  the  Tales  of  Wonder, 
(No.  58.)  The  present  edition,  prepared  by  Sir  Walter 
Scott  from  a  collation  of  various  copies,  is  longer  than 
any  other,  but  was  originally  disfigured  by  several  sup 
posititious  stanzas  here  omitted.  Another  version,  with 
Maidment's  fragment,  will  be  found  in  the  Appendix 
to  this  volume. 

"  Carterhaugh  is  a  plain,  at  the  conflux  of  the  Ettrick 
and  Yarrow  in  Selkirkshire,  about  a  mile  above  Sel 
kirk,  and  two  miles  below  Newark  Castle ;  a  roman 
tic  ruin  which  overhangs  the  Yarrow,  and  which  is 
said  to  have  been  the  habitation  of  our  heroine's  father, 
though  others  place  his  residence  in  the  tower  of  Oak- 
wood.  The  peasants  point  out,  upon  the  plain,  those 
electrical  rings,  which  vulgar  credulity  supposes  to  be 
traces  of  the  Fairy  revels.  Here,  they  say,  were  placed 


THE    YOUNG   TAMLANE.  115 

the  stands  of  milk,  and  of  water,  in  which  Tamlane 
was  dipped,  in  order  to  effect  the  disenchantment ;  and 
upon  these  spots,  according  to  their  mode  of  express 
ing  themselves,  the  grass  will  never  grow.  Miles 
Cross,  (perhaps  a  corruption  of  Mary's  Cross,)  where 
fair  Janet  awaited  the  arrival  of  the  Fairy-  train,  is 
said  to  have  stood  near  the  Duke  of  Buccleuch's  seat 
of  Bow-hill,  about  half  a  mile  from  Carterhaugh." — 
(ScOTT's  Minstrelsy,  ii.  334,  at  the  end  of  a  most  in 
teresting  essay,  introductory  to  this  tale,  on  the  Fai 
ries  of  Popular  Superstition.) 

"  O  I  forbid  ye,  maidens  a', 

That  wear  gowd  on  your  hair, 
To  come  or  gae  by  Carterhaugh, 
For  young  Tamlane  is  there. 

"  There's  nane  that  gaes  by  Carterhaugh,     s 

But  maun  leave  him  a  wad, 
Either  gowd  rings,  or  green  mantles, 

Or  else  their  maidenheid. 

"  Now  goWd  rings  ye  may  buy,  maidens, 

Green  mantles  ye  may  spin  ;  10 

But,  gin  ye  lose  your  maidenheid, 
Ye'll  ne'er  get  that  agen."  — 

But  up  then  spak  her,  fair  Janet, 

The  fairest  o'  a'  her  kin  ; 
"  1 11  cum  and  gang  to  Carterhaugh,  is 

And  ask  nae  leave  o'  him." — 


116  THE    YOUNG   TAMLANE. 

Janet  has  kilted  her  green  kirtle, 

A  little  abune  her  knee  ; 
And  she  has  braided  her  yellow  hair, 

A  little  abune  her  bree.  20 

And  when  she  came  to  Carterhaugh, 

She  gaed  beside  the  well ; 
And  there  she  fand  his  steed  standing, 

But  away  was  himsell. 

She  hadna  pu'd  a  red  red  rose,  25 

A  rose  but  barely  three  ; 
Till  up  and  starts  a  wee  wee  man, 

At  lady  Janet's  knee. 

Says  —  "  Why  pu'  ye  the  rose,  Janet  ? 

What  gars  ye  break  the  tree  ?  so 

Or  why  come  ye  to  Carterhaugh, 

Withouten  leave  o'  me  ?  "  — 

Says  —  "  Carterhaugh  it  is  mine  ain ; 

My  daddie  gave  it  me ; 
I'll  come  and  gang  to  Carterhaugh,  as 

And  ask  nae  leave  o'  thee." 

He's  ta'en  her  by  the  milk-white  hand, 
Among  the  leaves  sae  green  ; 

And  what  they  did,  I  cannot  tell  — 

The  green  leaves  were  between.  *> 


THE    YOUNG    TAMLANE.  117 

He's  ta'en  her  by  the  milk-white  hand, 

Among  the  roses  red ; 
And  what  they  did,  I  cannot  say  — 

She  ne'er  return'd  a  maid. 

When  she  cam  to  her  father's  ha',  « 

She  looked  pale  and  wan ; 
They  thought  she'd  dreed  some  sair  sickness, 

Or  been  with  some  leman. 

She  didna  comb  her  yellow  hair, 

Nor  make  meikle  o'er  her  head ;  » 

And  ilka  thing  that  lady  took, 

Was  like  to  be  her  deid. 

It's  four  and  twenty  ladies  fair 

Were  playing  at  the  ba' ; 
Janet,  the  wightest  of  them  anes,  « 

Was  faintest  o'  them  a\ 

Four  and  twenty  ladies  fair 

Were  playing  at  the  chess ; 
And  out  there  came  the  fair  Janet, 

As  green  as  any  grass.  GO 

Out  and  spak  an  auld  grey-headed  knight, 

Lay  o'er  the  castle  wa', — 
"  And  ever,  alas !  for  thee,  Janet, 
But  we'll  be  blamed  a' !  "  — 


118  THE   YOUNG   TAMLANE. 

"  Now  haud  your  tongue,  ye  auld  grey  knight ! 

And  an  ill  deid  may  ye  die ; 

Father  my  bairn  on  whom  I  will, 

I'll  father  nane  on  thee." — 

Out  then  spak  her  father  dear,  « 

And  he  spak  meik  and  mild  — 
"  And  ever,  alas  !  my  sweet  Janet, 
I  fear  ye  gae  with  child."  — 

"  And  if  I  be  with  child,  father, 

Mysell  maun  bear  the  blame  ;  TO 

There's  ne'er  a  knight  about  your  ha' 
Shall  hae  the  bairnie's  name. 

"  And  if  I  be  with  child,  father, 

'Twill  prove  a  wondrous  birth ; 
For  weel  I  swear  I'm  not  wi'  bairn  it> 

To  any  man  on  earth. 

"  If  my  love  were  an  earthly  knight, 

As  he's  an  elfin  grey, 
I  wadna  gie  my  ain  true  love 

For  nae  lord  that  ye  hae."  —  «o 

She  prink'd  hersell  and  prinn'd  hersell, 

By  the  ae  light  of  the  moon, 
And  she's  away  to  Carterhaugh, 

To  speak  wi'  young  Tamlane. 


THE    YOUNG   TAMLANE.  119 

And  when  she  came  to  Carterhaugh,  & 

She  gaed  beside  the  well ; 
And  there  she  saw  the  steed  standing, 

But  away  was  himsell. 

She  hadna  pu'd  a  double  rose, 

A  rose  but  only  twae,  so 

When  up  and  started  young  Tamlane, 

Says — "  Lady,  thou  pu's  nae  mae ! 

"  Why  pu'  ye  the  rose,  Janet, 
Within  this  garden  grene, 
And  a'  to  kill  the  bonny  babe,  w 

That  we  got  us  between  ?  " 

"  The  truth  ye'll  tell  to  me,  Tamlane ; 

A  word  ye  mauna  lie  ; 
Gin  e'er  ye  was  in  haly  chapel, 

Or  sained  in  Christentie  ?  " —  100 

"  The  truth  I'll  tell  to  thee,  Janet, 

A  word  I  winna  lie ; 
A  knight  me  got,  and  a  lady  me  bore, 
As  well  as  they  did  thee. 

"  Randolph,  Earl  Murray,  was  my  sire,         ios 

Dunbar,  Earl  March,  is  thine  ; 
We  loved  when  we  were  children  small, 
Which  yet  you  well  may  mind. 


120  THE    YOUNG    TAMLANE. 

"  When  I  was  a  boy  just  turn'd  of  nine, 

My  uncle  sent  for  me,  no 

To  hunt,  and  hawk,  and  ride  with  him, 
And  keep  him  companie. 

"  There  came  a  wind  out  of  the  north, 

A  sharp  wind  and  a  snell ; 
And  a  deep  sleep  came  over  me,  n« 

And  frae  my  horse  I  fell. 

"  The  Queen  of  Fairies  keppit  me, 

In  yon  green  hill  to  dwell ; 
And  I'm  a  fairy,  lyth  and  limb ; 

Fair  ladye,  view  me  well.  120 

u  Then  would  I  never  tire,  Janet, 

In  Elfish  land  to  dweU  ; 
But  aye,  at  every  seven  years, 
They  pay  the  teind  to  hell ; 
And  I  am  sae  fat  and  fair  of  flesh,  125 

I  fear  'twill  be  mysell. 

"  This  night  is  Hallowe'en,  Janet, 

The  morn  is  Hallowday ; 
And,  gin  ye  dare  your  true  love  win, 

Ye  hae  nae  time  to  stay.  L-M 

"  The  night  it  is  good  Hallowe'en, 

When  fairy  folk  will  ride  ; 
126.    See  Thtmas  of  Ersseldoune,  (p.  107,)  v.  225,  226. 


THE    YOUNG    TAMLAXE.  121 

And  they  that  wad  their  true-love  win, 
At  Miles  Cross  they  maun  bide." 

"  But  how  shall  I  thee  ken,  Tamlane  ?  135 

Or  how  shall  I  thee  knaw, 
Amang  so  many  unearthly  knights, 
The  like  I  never  saw  ?  " 


"  The  first  company  that  passes  by, 

Say  na,  and  let  them  gae ;  140 

The  next  company  that  passes  by, 

Sae  na,  and  do  right  sae ; 
The  third  company  that  passes  by, 
Then  I'll  be  ane  o'  thae. 

"  First  let  pass  the  black,  Janet,  145 

And  syne  let  pass  the  brown ; 
But  grip  ye  to  the  milk-white  steed, 
And  pu'  the  rider  down. 

"  For  I  ride  on  the  milk-white  steed, 

And  aye  nearest  the  town ;  iso 

Because  I  was  a  christen'd  knight, 
They  gave  me  that  renown. 

"  My  right  hand  will  be  gloved,  Janet, 

My  left  hand  will  be  bare ; 
And  these  the  tokens  I  gie  thee,  i« 

Nae  doubt  I  will  be  there. 


122  THE    YOUNG    TAMLANE. 

"  They'll  turn  me  in  your  arms,  Janet, 

An  adder  and  a  snake  ; 
But  had  me  fast,  let  me  not  pass, 

Gin  ye  wad  buy  me  maik.  ieo 

"  They'll  turn  me  in  your  arms,  Janet, 

An  adder  and  an  ask  ; 
They'll  turn  me  in  your  arms,  Janet, 
A  bale  that  burns  fast. 

"  They'll  turn  me  in  your  arms,  Janet,  it» 

A  red-hot  gad  o'  airn  ; 
But  haud  me  fast,  let  me  not  pass, 
For  I'll  do  you  no  harm. 

"  First  dip  me  in  a  stand  o'  milk, 

And  then  in  a  stand  o'  water ;  uo 

But  had  me  fast,  let  me  not  pass — 
I'll  be  your  bairn's  father. 

"  And,  next,  they'll  shape  me  in  your  arms, 

A  tod,  but  and  an  eel ; 

But  had  me  fast,  nor  let  me  gang,  irs 

As  you  do  love  me  weel. 

"  They'll  shape  me  in  your  arms,  Janet, 

A  dove,  but  and  a  swan  ; 
And,  last,  they'll  shape  me  in  your  arms 
A  mother-naked  man  :  iso 


THE    YOUNG    TAMLANE.  123 

Cast  your  green  mantle  over  me  — 
I'll  be  myself  again." — 

Gloomy,  gloomy,  was  the  night, 

And  eiry  was  the  way, 
As  fair  Janet,  in  her  green  mantle,  iss 

To  Miles  Cross  she  did  gae. 

Betwixt  the  hours  of  twelve  and  one, 

A  north  wind  tore  the  bent ; 
And  straight  she  heard  strange  elritch  sounds 

Upon  that  wind  which  went  ia> 

About  the  dead  hour  o'  the  night, 

She  heard  the  bridles  ring  ; 
And  Janet  was  as  glad  o'  that 

As  any  earthly  thing. 

Will  o'  Wisp  before  them  went,  iss 

Sent  forth  a  twinkling  light ; 
And  soon  she  saw  the  Fairy  bands 

All  riding  in  her  sight. 

And  first  gaed  by  the  black  black  steed, 
And  then  gaed  by  the  brown ;  200 

But  fast  she  gript  the  milk-white  steed, 
And  pu'd  the  rider  down. 

She  pu'd  him  frae  the  milk-white  steed, 
And  loot  the  bridle  fa' ; 


124  THE    YOUNG    TAMLANE. 

And  up  there  raise  an  erlish  cry  —  205 

"  He's  won  amang  us  a' !  " — 

They  shaped  him  in  fair  Janet's  arms, 

An  esk,  but  and  an  adder  ; 
She  held  him  fast  in  every  shape  — 

To  be  her  bairn's  father.  210 

They  shaped  him  in  her  arms  at  last, 

A  mother-naked  man : 
She  wrapt  him  in  her  green  mantle, 

And  sae  her  true  love  wan  ! 

Up  then  spake  the  Queen  o'  Fairies,  215 

Out  o'  a  bush  o'  broom  — 
"  She  that  has  borrow'd  young  Tamlane, 
Has  gotten  a  stately  groom." — 

Up  then  spake  the  Queen  o'  Fairies, 

Out  o'  a  bush  o'  rye  —  *» 

"  She's  ta'en  awa  the  bonniest  knight 
In  a'  my  cumpanie. 

"  But  had  I  kenn'd,  Tamlane,"  she  says, 
"  A  lady  wad  borrow'd  thee  — 
I  wad  ta'en  out  thy  twa  grey  een,  22* 

Put  in  twa  een  o'  tree. 

"  Had  I  but  kenn'd,  Tamlane,"  she  says, 
"  Before  ye  came  frae  hame  — 


THE    YOUNG    TAMLANE.  125 

I  wad  ta'en  out  your  heart  o'  flesh, 

Put  in  a  heart  o'  stane.  «o 

"  Had  I  but  had  the  wit  yestreen 

That  I  hae  coft  the  day  — 
I'd  paid  my  kane  seven  times  to  hell 
Ere  you'd  been  won  away  !  " 


V.  157-168,  v.  208-214.  The  same  process  of  disenchant 
ment  is  found  in  the  Danish  ballad  Nattergakn,  st.  20-22, 
Grundtvig,  No.  57  (also  Svenska  Folk-visor,  No.  41).  The 
comparison  with  the  transformations  of  Proteus  is  curious. 


oi)6'  6  yepuv  do^drjg  iT 
d/U,'  firoL  TrpuTtara  tewv  yivef 
avrap  eTretra  dpanuv  K.al  Trop6a?u<;  7jde  fieyag  avf 

vypbv  vdup  KOL  dsvdpeov 
l^  6'  a,GTefj,<j>£(i)£  e%ofiev  rerT^orL 

iv.  454-59. 


Verum  ubi  correptum  manibus  vinclisque  tenebis, 
Turn  variae  eludent  species  atque  ora  ferarum : 
Fiet  enim  subito  sus  horridus  atraque  tigris, 
Squamosusque  draco,  et  fulva  cervice  leasna, 
Aut  acrem  flammae  sonitum  dabit,  atque  ita  vinclis 
Excidet,  aut  in  aquas  tenues  dilapsus  abibit. 
Sed  quanto  ille  magis  forma's  se  vertet  in  omnes, 
Tanto,  nate,  magis  contende  tenacia  vincla. 

Georgics,  iv.  405-12. 


THE  WEE  WEE  MAN. 

THIS  ballad  will  be  found,  in  forms  slightly  varying, 
in  Herd,  (i.  156  ;)  Caw's  Poetical  Museum,  (p.  348  ;) 
MotherwelPs  Minstrelsy,  (p.  343 ;)  and  Buchan's  An 
cient  Ballads,  (i.  263.)  It  bears  some  resemblance  to 
the  beginning  of  the  remarkable  poem,  Als  Y  Yod  on 
ay  Mounday,  (see  Appendix).  The  present  version 
is  from  the  Poetical  Museum. 

As  I  was  walking  by  my  lane, 

Atween  a  water  and  a  wa, 
There  sune  I  spied  a  wee  wee  man, 

He  was  the  least  that  eir  I  saw. 

His  legs  were  scant  a  shathmont's  length,     5 
And  sma  and  limber  was  his  thie ; 

Atween  his  shoulders  was  ae  span, 
About  his  middle  war  but  three. 

He  has  tane  up  a  meikle  stane, 

And  flang't  as  far  as  I  cold  see  ;  10 

Bin  thouch  I  had  been  Wallace  wicht, 

I  dought  na  lift  it  to  my  knie. 

7.   Much  better  in  Motherwell. 

Between  his  een  there  was  a  span, 
Betwixt  his  shoulders  there  were  ells  three. 


THE    WEE    WEE    MAN.  127 

"  O  wee  wee  man,  but  ye  be  strang ! 

Tell  me  whar  may  thy  dwelling  be  ?  " 
"  I  dwell  beneth  that  bonnie  bouir,  1$ 

0  will  ye  gae  wi  me  and  see  ?  " 

On  we  lap,  and  awa  we  rade, 
Till  we  cam  to  a  bonny  green  ; 

We  lichted  syne  to  bait  our  steid, 

And  out  there  cam  a  lady  sheen ;  20 

Wi  four  and  twentie  at  her  back, 
A'  comely  cled  in  glistering  green ; 

Thouch  there  the  King  of  Scots  had  stude, 
The  warst  micht  weil  hae  been  his  queen. 

On  syne  we  past  wi  wondering  cheir,  25 

Till  we  cam  to  a  bonny  ha ; 
The  roof  was  o  the  beaten  gowd, 

The  flure  was  o  the  crystal  a. 

When  we  cam  there,  wi  wee  wee  knichts 
War  ladies  dancing,  jimp  and  sma ;          a> 

But  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eie, 
Baith  green  and  ha  war  clein  awa. 

29-32.   There  were  pipers  playing  in  every  neuk, 

And  ladies  dancing,  jimp  and  sma'  ; 
And  aye  the  owreturn  o'  their  tune 
Was,  "  Our  wee  wee  man  has  been  lang  awa !  " — 

MOTHERWELL. 


THE  ELFIN  KNIGHT. 

REPRINTED  from  A  Collection  of  Curious  Old  Bal 
lads  and  Miscellaneous  Poetry.  Edinburgh.  David 
Webster,  1824. 

Other  versions  are  given  in  Motherwell's  Minstrelsy, 
(see  the  Appendix  to  this  volume ;)  Kinloch's  Ancient 
Scottish  Ballads,  (p.  145 ;)  Buchan's  Ancient  Ballads, 
(ii.  296.) 

Similar  collections  of  impossibilities  in  The  Trooper 
and  Fair  Maid,  Buchan,  i.  230  ;  Robin's  Tesment,  id., 
i.  273,  or  Aytoun,  2d  ed.  ii.  197;  As  I  was  walking 
under  a  grove,  Pills  to  purge  Melancholy,  v.  37^  See 
also  post,  vol.  ii.  224,  352,  vol.  iv.  132,  287 ;  and  in 
German,  Von  eitel  unmoglichen  Dingen,  Erk's  Lieder- 
hort,  p.  334-37;  Uhland,  Eitle  Dinge,  No.  4,  A,  B; 
Wundcrhorn,  ii.  410. 

The  Elfin  knight  sits  on  yon  hill, 

Ba,  ba,  ba,  littie  ba. 

He  blaws  his  horn  baith  loud  and  shrill. 
The  wind  hath  blawn  my  plaid  awa. 

He  blaws  it  east,  he  blaws  it  west, 
He  blaws  it  where  he  liketh  best. 

"  I  wish  that  horn  were  in  my  kist,  « 

Yea,  and  the  knight  in  my  arms  niest." 

She  had  no  sooner  these  words  said, 
Than  the  knight  came  to  her  bed. 


THE    ELFIN   KNIGHT.  129 

"  Thou  art  o'er  young  a  maid,"  quoth  he, 

"  Married  with  me,  that  thou  would'st  be."     M 

"  I  have  a  sister,  younger  than  I, 
And  she  was  married  yesterday." 

"  Married  with  me  if  thou  would'st  be, 
A  curtisie  thou  must  do  to  me. 

"  It's  ye  maun  mak  a  sark  to  me,  is 

Without  any  cut  or  seam,"  quoth  he ; 

"  And  ye  maun  shape  it,  knife-,  sheerless, 
And  also  sew  it  needle-,  threedless." 

"  If  that  piece  of  courtisie  I  do  to  thee, 
Another  thou  must  do  to  me.  20 

"  I  have  an  aiker  of  good  ley  land, 
Which  lyeth  low  by  yon  sea  strand ; 

"  It's  ye  maun  till't  wi'  your  touting  horn, 
And  ye  maun  saw't  wi'  the  pepper  corn ; 

"  And  ye  maun  harrow't  wi'  a  thorn,  25 

And  hae  your  wark  done  ere  the  morn ; 

"  And  ye  maun  shear  it  wi'  your  knife, 
And  no  lose  a  stack  o't  for  your  life  ; 


130  THE   ELFIN   KNIGHT. 

"  And  ye  maun  stack  it  in  a  mouse  hole, 
And  ye  maun  thrash  it  in  your  shoe  sole ;   so 

"  And  ye  maun  dight  it  in  your  loof, 
And  also  sack  it  in  your  glove ; 

"  And  ye  maun  bring  it  over  the  sea, 
Fair,  and  clean,  and  dry  to  me ; 

u  And  when  that  ye  have  done  your  wark,     35 
Come  back  to  me,  and  ye'll  get  your  sark." 

"  I'll  not  quite  my  plaid  for  my  life  ; 
It  haps  my  seven  bairnes  and  my  wife." 

"  My  maidenhead  I'll  then  keep  still, 
Let  the  Elfin  knight  do  what  he  will.  40 

"  My  plaid  awa,  my  plaid  away, 
And  owre  the  hills  and  far  awa, 
And  far  awa  to  Norowa', 
My  plaid  shall  not  be  blawn  awa." 

33,  thou  must. 


THE  BROOMFIELD  HILL. 

A  fragment  of  this  ballad  was  printed  in  Herd's 
Collection,  ("/•'//  wager,  I'll  wager,"  i.  226.)  The 
present  version  is  from  the  Border  Minstrelsy,  (iii. 
28,)  and  we  have  added  another  from  Kinloch's  An 
cient  Scottish  Ballads.  A  somewhat  longer  copy  is 
given  in  Buchan's  Ballads,  (ii.  291,)  and  a  modern 
ized  English  one,  of  no  value,  (The  West  Country 
Wager,)  in  Ancient  Poems,  &c.,  Percy  Society,  vol. 
xvii.  p.  116. 

Brume,  brume  on  hU,  is  mentioned  in  the  Complaynt 
of  Scotland,  and  formed  part  of  Captain  Cox's  well- 
known  collection. 

A  Danish  ballad  exhibits  the  same  theme,  though 
differently  treated:  Sovnerunerne,  Grundtvig,  No.  81. 

THERE  was  a  knight  and  a  lady  bright, 

Had  a  true  tryst  at  the  broom ; 
The  ane  ga'ed  early  in  the  morning, 

The  other  in  the  afternoon. 

And  aye  she  sat  in  her  mother's  bower  door,    5 

And  aye  she  made  her  mane, 
"  O  whether  should  I  gang  to  the  Broomfield  hill, 
Or  should  I  stay  at  hame  ? 


132  THE   BROOMFIELD    HILL. 

"  For  if  I  gang  to  the  Broomfield  hill, 

My  maidenhead  is  gone  ; 
And  if  I  chance  to  stay  at  hame, 
My  love  will  ca'  me  mansworn." — 

Up  then  spake  a  witch  woman, 

Aye  from  the  room  aboon ; 
"  O,  ye  may  gang  to  Broomfield  hill, 
And  yet  come  maiden  hame. 

"  For  when  ye  come  to  the  Broomfield  hill, 

Yell  find  your  love  asleep, 
With  a  silver  belt  about  his  head, 
And  a  broom-cow  at  his  feet. 

"  Take  ye  the  blossom  of  the  broom, 

The  blossom  it  smells  sweet, 
And  strew  it  at  your  true  love's  head, 
And  likewise  at  his  feet. 

"  Take  ye  the  rings  off  your  fingers, 

Put  them  on  his  right  hand, 
To  let  him  know,  when  he  doth  awake, 
His  love  was  at  his  command." — 

She  pu'd  the  broom  flower  on  Hive-hill, 
And  strew'd  on's  white  hals  bane, 

And  that  was  to  be  wittering  true, 
That  maiden  she  had  gane. 


THE   BROOMFIELD    HILL.  133 

"  O  where  were  ye,  my  milk-white  steed, 

That  I  hae  coft  sae  dear, 
That  wadna  watch  and  waken  me,  35 

When  there  was  maiden  here  ?  "  — 

"  I  stamped  wi'  my  foot,  master, 

And  gar'd  my  bridle  ring ; 
But  nae  kin'  thing  wald  waken  ye, 

Till  she  was  past  and  gane."  —  *o 

"  And  wae  betide  ye,  my  gay  goss  hawk, 

That  I  did  love  sae  dear, 
That  wadna  watch  and  waken  me, 
"When  there  was  maiden  here."  — 

"  I  clapped  wi'  my  wings,  master,  45 

And  aye  my  bells  I  rang, 
And  aye  cryM,  Waken,  waken,  master, 
Before  the  ladye  gang."  — 

"  But  haste  and  haste,  my  gude  white  steed,   . 

To  come  the  maiden  till,  so 

Or  a'  the  birds  of  gude  green  wood 
Of  your  flesh  shall  have  their  fill."  — 

"  Ye  needna  burst  your  gude  white  steed, 

Wi'  racing  o'er  the  howm  ; 
Nae  bird  flies  faster  through  the  wood,  K 

Than  she  fled  through  the  broom." 


LORD  JOHN. 

From  Kinloch's  Ancient  Scottish  Ballads,  (p.  195.) 

I'LL  wager,  I'll  wager,"  says  Lord  John, 
"  A  hundred  merks  and  ten, 
That  ye  winna  gae  to  the  bonnie  broom-fields, 
And  a  maid  return  again." — 

"  But  I'll  lay  a  wager  wi'  you,  Lord  John,          « 

A*  your  merks  oure  again, 
That  I'll  gae  alane  to  the  bonnie  broom-fields, 
And  a  maid  return  again." 

Then  Lord  John  mounted  his  grey  steed, 
And  his  hound  wi'  his  bells  sae  bricht,         10 

And  swiftly  he  rade  to  the  bonny  broom-fields, 
Wi'  his  hawks,  like  a  lord  or  knicht. 

"  Now  rest,  now  rest,  my  bonnie  grey  steed, 

My  lady  will  soon  be  here ; 
And  I'll  lay  my  head  aneath  this  rose  sae  red,  w 
And  the  bonnie  burn  sae  near." 

But  sound,  sound,  was  the  sleep  he  took, 
For  he  slept  till  it  was  noon  ; 


LORD    JOHN.  135 

And  his  lady  cam  at  day,  left  a  taiken  and  away, 
Gaed  as  licht  as  a  glint  o'  the  moon.  20 

She  strawed  the  roses  on  the  ground, 

Threw  her  mantle  on  the  brier, 
And  the  belt  around  her  middle  sae  jimp, 

As  a  taiken  that  she'd  been  there. 

The  rustling  leaves  flew  round  his  head,          ai 

And  rous'd  him  frae  his  dream ; 
He  saw  by  the  roses,  and  mantle  sae  green, 

That  his  love  had  been  there  and  was  gane. 

"  O  whare  was  ye,  my  gude  grey  steed, 

That  I  coft  ye  sae  dear ;  ao 

That  ye  didna  waken  your  master, 

Whan  ye  ken'd  that  his  love  was  here."  — 

u  I  pautit  wi'  my  foot,  master, 
Garr'd  a'  my  bridles  ring ; 
And  still  I  cried,  "Waken,  gude  master,  as 

For  now  is  the  hour  and  time."  — 

"  Then  whare  was  ye,  my  bonnie  grey  hound, 

That  I  coft  ye  sae  dear, 
That  ye  didna  waken  your  master, 

Whan  ye  kend  that  his  love  was  here."  —  -w 

"  I  pautit  wi'  my  foot,  master, 
Garr'd  a'  my  bells  to  ring ; 


136  LORD   JOHN. 

And  still  I  cried,  "Waken,  gude  master, 
For  now  is  the  hour  and  time."  — 

"  But  whare  was  ye,  my  hawks,  my  hawks,        « 

That  I  coft-  ye  sae  dear, 
That  ye  didna  waken  your  master, 

Whan  ye  ken'd  that  his  love  was  here."  — 

"  O  wyte  na  me,  now,  my  master  dear, 

I  garr'd  a'  my  young  hawks  sing,  M 

And  still  I  cried,  Waken,  gude  master, 
For  now  is  the  hour  and  time."  — 

"  Then  be  it  sae,  my  wager  gane ! 
'T  wiU  skaith  frae  meikle  ill ; 
For  gif  I  had  found  her  in  bonnie  broom-fields,  55 
0'  her  heart's  blude  ye'd  drunken  your  fill." 

The  stanzas  below  are  from  an  American  version  of  this 
ballad  called  The  Green  Broom/fieM,  printed  in  a  cheap  song- 
book.  (Graham's  Illustrated  Magazine,  Sept.  1858.) 

"  Then  when  she  went  to  the  green  broom  field, 

Where  her  love  was  fast  asleep, 
With  a  gray  ^oose-hawk  and  a  green  laurel  bough, 

And  a  green  broom  under  his  feet. 

"  And  when  he  awoke  from  out  his  sleep, 

An  angry  man  was  he ; 
He  looked  to  the  East,  and  he  looked  to  the  West, 

And  he  wept  for  his  sweetheart  to  see. 

"  Oh !  where  was  you,  my  gray  ^oose-hawk, 

The  hawk  that  I  loved  so  dear, 
That  you  did  not  awake  me  from  out  my  sleep, 

When  my  sweetheart  was  so  near!  " 


KEMPION. 

This  ballad  was  first  printed  in  the  Border  Min 
strelsy,  (vol.  iii.  p.  230,)  "  chiefly  from  Mrs.  Brown's 
MS.  with  corrections  from  a  recited  fragment."  Moth- 
erwell  furnishes  a  different  version,  from  recitation, 
(Minstrelsy,  p.  374,)  which  is  subjoined  to  the  present, 
and  the  well-known  ditty  of  the  Laidley  Worm  of 
Spindleston-Heugh,  upon  the  same  theme,  will  be 
found  in  the  Appendix  to  this  volume. 

u  Such  transformations  as  the  song  narrates,"  re 
marks  Sir  Walter  Scott,  "  are  common  in  the  annals 
of  chivalry.  In  the  25th  and  26th  cantos  of  the  second 
book  of  the  Orlando  Inamorato,  the  Paladin,  Brandi- 
marte,  after  surmounting  many  obstacles,  penetrates 
into  the  recesses  of  an  enchanted  palace.  Here  he 
finds  a  fair  damsel,  seated  upon  a  tomb,  who  announces 
to  him,  that,  in  order  to  achieve  her  deliverance,  he 
must  raise  the  lid  of  the  sepulchre,  and  kiss  whatever 
being  should  issue  forth.  The  knight,  having  pledged 
his  faith,  proceeds  to  open  the  tomb,  out  of  which  a 
monstrous  snake  issues  forth,  with  a  tremendous  hiss. 
Brandimarte,  with  much  reluctance,  fulfils  the  bizarre 
conditions  of  the  adventure  ;  and  the  monster  is  in 
stantly  changed  into  a  beautiful  Fairy,  who  loads  her 
deliverer  with  benefits." 


138  KEMPION. 

Jomfruen  i  Ormeham,  in  Grundtvig's  DanmarJcs 
Gamle  Folkeviser,  ii.  17  7,  is  essentially  the  same  ballad 
as  Kempion.  The  characteristic  incident  of  the  story 
(a  maiden  who  has  been  transformed  by  her  step-mother 
into  a  snake  or  other  monster,  being  restored  to  her 
proper  shape  by  the  kiss  of  a  knight)  is  as  common  in 
the  popular  fiction  of  the  North  as  Scott  asserts  it  to 
be  in  chivalrous  romance.  For  instances,  see  Grundt- 
vig,  1. 1.,  and  under  the  closely  related  Lindormen,  ii. 
211. 

The  name  Kempion  is  itself  a  monument  of  the  re 
lation  of  our  ballads  to  the  Kcempeviser.  Pollard  of 
Pollard  Hall,  who  slew  "  a  venomous  serpent  which 
did  much  harm  to  man  and  beast,"  is  called  in  the 
modern  legend  a  Champion  Knight. 


"  CUM  heir,  cum  heir,  ye  freely  feed, 

And  lay  your  head  low  on  my  knee  ; 
The  heaviest  weird  I  will  you  read, 
That  ever  was  read  to  gay  ladye. 

"  O  meikle  dolour  sail  ye  dree,  5 

And  aye  the  salt  seas  o'er  ye'se  swim ; 
And  far  mair  dolour  sail  ye  dree 

On  Estmere  crags,  when  ye  them  climb. 

8.  If  by  Estmere  Crags  we  are  to  understand  the  rocky 


KEMPION.  139 

"  I  weird  ye  to  a  fiery  beast, 

And  relieved  sail  ye  never  be,  10 

Till  Kempion,  the  kingis  son, 

Cum  to  the  crag,  and  thrice  kiss  thee." — 

O  meikle  dolour  did  she  dree, 

And  aye  the  salt  seas  o'er  she  swam  ; 

And  far  mair  dolour  did  she  dree  w 

On  Estmere  crags,  when  she  them  clamb. 

And  aye  she  cried  for  Kempion, 

Gin  he  would  but  come  to  her  hand : 

Now  word  has  gane  to  Kempion, 

That  sicken  a  beast  was  in  his  land.          ao 

"  Now,  by  my  sooth,"  said  Kempion, 
"  This  fiery  beast  I'll  gang  and  see." — 

"  And  by  my  sooth,"  said  Segramour, 
"  My  ae  brother,  I'll  gang  wi'  thee." 

Then  bigged  hae  they  a  bonny  boat,  2« 

And  they  hae  set  her  to  the  sea ; 

But  a  mile  before  they  reach'd  the  shore, 
Around  them  she  gar'd  the  red  fire  flee. 


cliffs  of  Northumberland,  in  opposition  to  Westmoreland,  we 
may  bring  our  scene  of  action  near  Bamborough,  and  thereby 
almost  identify  the  tale  of  Kempion  with  that  of  the  Laidley 
Worm  of  Spindleston,  to  which  it  bears  so  strong  a  resem 
blance. — SCOTT.  But  why  should  we  seek  to  do  this  ? 


140  KEMPION. 

"  0  Segramour,  keep  the  boat  afloat, 

And  let  her  na  the  land  o'er  near  ;  so 

For  this  wicked  beast  will  sure  gae  mad, 
And  set  fire  to  a'  the  land  and  mair." — 

Syne  has  he  bent  an  arblast  bow, 
And  aim'd  an  arrow  at  her  head  ; 

And  swore  if  she  didna  quit  the  land,          35 
Wi'  that  same  shaft  to  shoot  her  dead. 

"  O  out  of  my  stythe  I  winna  rise, 

(And  it  is  not  for  the  awe  o'  thee,) 
Till  Kempion,  the  kingis  son, 

Cum  to  the  crag,  and  thrice  kiss  me." —  4f> 

He  has  louted  him  o'er  the  dizzy  crag, 
And  gien  the  monster  kisses  ane  ; 

Awa  she  gaed,  and  again  she  cam. 
The  fieryest  beast  that  ever  was  seen. 

"  0  out  o'  my  stythe  I  winna  rise,  « 

(And  not  for  a'  thy  bow  nor  thee,) 
Till  Kempion,  the  kingis  son,  * 

Cum  to  the  crag,  and  thrice  kiss  me." — 

He's  louted  him  o'er  the  Estmere  crags, 
And  he  has  gi'en  her  kisses  twa  :  so 

Awa  she  gaed,  and  again  she  cam, 
The  fieryest  beast  that  ever  you  saw. 


KEMPION.  141 

"  O  out  of  my  den  I  winna  rise, 

Nor  flee  it  for  the  fear  o'  thee, 
Till  Kempion,  that  courteous  knight,  « 

Cum  to  the  crag,  and  thrice  kiss  me." — 

He's  louted  him  o'er  the  lofty  crag, 
And  he  has  gi'en  her  kisses  three  : 

Awa  she  gaed,  and  again  she  cam, 

The  loveliest  ladye  e'er  could  be  !  eo 

"  And  by  my  sooth,"  says  Kempion, 
"  My  ain  true  love,  (for  this  is  she,) 
They  surely  had  a  heart  o'  stane, 
Could  put  thee  to  such  misery. 

"  O  was  it  warwolf  in  the  wood  ?  & 

Or  was  it  mermaid  in  the  sea  ? 
Or  was  it  man  or  vile  woman, 

My  ain  true  love,  that  mis-shaped  thee  ?  " — 

"  It  wasna  warwolf  in  the  wood, 

Nor  was  it  mermaid  in  the  sea  :  TO 

But  it  was  my  wicked  step-mother, 
And  wae  and  weary  may  she  be  !  " — 

"  O,  a  heavier  weird  shall  light  her  on, 
Than  ever  fell  on  vile  woman  ; 
Her  hair  shall  grow  rough,  and  her  teeth 

grow  lang,  " 

And  on  her  four  feet  shall  she  gang. 


142  KEMPION. 

"  None  shall  take  pity  her  upon ; 
In  Wormeswood  she  aye  shall  won  ; 
And  relieved  shall  she  never  be, 
Till  St.  Mungo  come  over  the  sea." — 
And  sighing  said  that  weary  wight, 
"  I  doubt  that  day  I'll  never  see  !  " 


KEMP  OWYNE. 

Kemp  Owyne,  says  Motherwell,  "  was,  no  doubt,  the 
same  Ewein  or  Owain,  ap  Urien  the  king  of  Reged, 
who  is  celebrated  by  the  bards,  Taliessin  and  Llywarch- 
Hen,  as  well  as  in  the  Welsh  historical  Triads.  In  a 
poem  of  Gruffyd  Llwyd,  A.  D.  1400,  addressed  to 
Owain  Glyndwr,  is  the  following  allusion  to  this  war 
rior.  '  Thou  hast  travelled  by  land  and  by  sea  in  the 
conduct  of  thine  affairs,  like  Owain  ap  Urien  in  days 
of  yore,  when  with  activity  he  encountered  the  black 
knight  of  the  water.'*  His  mistress  had  a  ring  esteemed 
one  of  the  thirteen  rarities  of  Britain,  which,  (like  the 
wondrous  ring  of  Gyges)  would  render  the  wearer 
invisible."  Minstrelsy,  p.  Ixxxiii. 

The  copy  of  Kemp  Owyne  printed  in  Buchan's 
Ancient  Ballads,  (ii.  78,)  is  the  same  as  the  following. 

HER  mother  died  when  she  was  young, 

Which  gave  her  cause  to  make  great  moan  ; 

*  "  On  sea,  on  land,  them  still  didst  brave 
The  dangerous  cliff  and  rapid  wave ; 
Like  Urien,  who  subdued  the  knight, 
And  the  fell  dragon  put  to  flight, 
Yon  moss-grown  fount  beside ; 
The  grim,  black  warrior  of  the  flood, 
The  dragon,gorged  with  human  blood, 
The  waters'  scaly  pride." 

Jones's  Welsh  Bards,  i.  41. 


144  KEMP    OWYNE. 

Her  father  married  the  warst  woman 
That  ever  lived  in  Christendom. 

She  served  her  with  foot  and  hand, 
In  every  thing  that  she  could  dee  ; 

Till  once,  in  an  unlucky  time, 

She  threw  her  in  ower  Craigy's  sea. 

Says,  "  Lie  you  there,  dove  Isabel, 
And  all  my  sorrows  lie  with  thee  ; 

Till  Kemp  Owyne  come  ower  the  sea, 
And  borrow  you  with  kisses  three, 

Let  all  the  warld  do  what  they  will, 
Oh  borrowed  shall  you  never  be." 

Her  breath  grew  strang,  her  hair  grew  lang, 
And  twisted  thrice  about  the  tree, 

And  all  the  people,  far  and  near, 

Thought  that  a  savage  beast  was  she  ; 

This  news  did  come  to  Kemp  Owyne, 
Where  he  lived  far  beyond  the  sea. 

He  hasted  him  to  Craigy's  sea, 

And  on  the  savage  beast  look'd  he  ; 

Her  breath  was  strang,  her  hair  was  lang, 
And  twisted  was  about  the  tree, 

And  with  a  swing  she  came  about : 
"  Come  to  Craigy's  sea,  and  kiss  with  me. 

"  Here  is  a  royal  belt,"  she  cried, 

"  That  I  have  found  in  the  green  sea ; 


KEMP    OWYNE.  145 

And  while  your  body  it  is  on, 

Drawn  shall  your  blood  never  be  ;  so 

But  if  you  touch  me,  tail  or  fin, 

I  vow  my  belt  your  death  shall  be." 

He  stepped  in,  gave  her  a  kiss, 

The  royal  belt  he  brought  him  wi' ; 

Her  breath  was  strang,  her  hair  was  lang,       35 
And  twisted  twice  about  the  tree, 

And  with  a  swing  she  came  about : 
"  Come  to  Craigy's  sea,  and  kiss  with  me. 

"  Here  is  a  royal  ring,"  she  said, 

"  That  I  have  found  in  the  green  sea  ;  40 

And  while  your  finger  it  is  on, 

Drawn  shall  your  blood  never  be  ; 
But  if  you  touch  me,  tail  or  fin, 

I  swear  my  ring  your  death  shall  be." 

He  stepped  in,  gave  her  a  kiss,  « 

The  royal  ring  he  brought  him  wi' ; 
Her  breath  was  strang,  her  hair  was  lang, 

And  twisted  ance  around  the  tree, 
And  with  a  swing  she  came  about : 
"  Come  to  Craigy's  sea,  and  kiss  with  me.      •« 

"  Here  is  a  royal  brand,"  she  said, 

"  That  I  have  found  in  the  green  sea ; 
And  while  your  body  it  is  on, 

Drawn  shall  your  blood  never  be  ; 

VOL.  I.  10 


146  KEMP    OWTNE. 

But  if  you  touch  me,  tail  or  fin, 

I  swear  my  brand  your  death  shall  be." 

He  stepped  in,  gave  her  a  kiss, 

The  royal  brand  he  brought  him  wi' ; 

Her  breath  was  sweet,  her  hair  grew  short, 
And  twisted  nane  about  the  tree ; 

And  smilingly  she  came  about, 
As  fair  a  woman  as  fair  could  be. 


KING    HENRY. 

A  modernized  copy  of  King  Henry  was  published 
in  the  Tales  of  Wonder,  (No  57,)  under  the  title  of 
Courteous  King  Jamie.  It  first  appeared  in  an  ancient 
dress  in  the  Border  Minstrelsy,  (iii.  274,)  but  a  version 
preferable  in  some  respects  was  given  by  Jamieson  in 
his  Popular  Ballads,  (ii.  194,)  which  is  here  printed, 
without  the  editor's  interpolations.  For  a  notice  of 
similar  legends,  see  the  Marriage  of  Sir  Gawaine,  at 
page  28  of  this  volume. 

Lat  never  a  man  a  wooing  wend, 

That  lacketh  thingis  three ; 
A  routh  o'  gould,  an  open  heart. 

Ay  fu'  o'  charity. 

As  this  I  speak  of  King  Henry,  5 

For  he  lay  burd-alane ; 
And  he's  doen  him  to  a  jelly  hunt's  ha', 

Was  far  frae  ony  town. 

He  chas'd  the  deer  now  him  before, 

And  the  roe  down  by  the  den,  10 

TiU  the  fattest  buck  in  a'  the  flock 
King  Henry  he  has  slain. 


148  KING   HENKY. 

0  he  has  doen  him  to  his  ha', 

To  mak  him  bierly  cheer ; 
And  in  it  cam  a  grisly  ghost, 

Staed  stappin'  i'  the  fleer. 

Her  head  hat  the  roof-tree  o'  the  house, 
Her  middle  ye  mat  weel  span ;  — 

He's  thrown  to  her  his  gay  mantle ; 
Says,  —  "  Ladie,  hap  your  lingcan." 

Her  teeth  was  a'  like  teather  stakes, 
Her  nose  like  club  or  mell ; 

And  I  ken  nae  thing  she  'pear'd  to  be, 
But  the  fiend  that  wons  in  hell. 

"  Some  meat,  some  meat,  ye  King  Henry  ; 

Some  meat  ye  gie  to  me." 
"  And  what  meat's  in  this  house,  Ladie  ? 

And  what  ha'e  I  to  gi'e  ?  " 
"  Its  ye  do  kill  your  berry-brown  steed, 

And  ye  bring  him  here  to  me." 

O  whan  he  slew  his  berry-brown  steed, 
Wow  but  his  heart  was  sair ! 

She  ate  him  a'  up,  flesh  and  bane, 
Left  naething  but  hide  and  hair. 

"  Mair  meat,  mair  meat,  ye  King  Henry, 

Mair  meat  ye  bring  to  me." 
"  And  what  meat's  in  this  house,  Ladie  ? 


KING  HENRY.  149 

And  what  hae  I  to  gi'e  ?  " 
"  O  ye  do  kill  your  good  grey  hounds, 

And  ye  bring  them  in  to  me."  <o 

O  whan  he  killed  his  good  grey  hounds, 

Wow  but  his  heart  was  sair ! 
She  ate  them  a'  up,  flesh  and  bane, 

Left  naething  but  hide  and  hair. 

"  Mair  meat,  mair  meat,  ye  King  Henry,       « 

Mair  meat  ye  bring  to  me." 
"  And  what  meat's  in  this  house,  Ladie  ? 

And  what  hae  I  to  gi'e  ?  " 
"  O  ye  do  kill  your  gay  goss  hawks, 

And  ye  bring  them  here  to  me."  so 

O  whan  he  kill'd  his  gay  goss  hawks, 

Wow  but  his  heart  was  sair ! 
She  ate  them  a'  up,  skin  and  bane, 

Left  naething  but  feathers  bare. 

*'  Some  drink,  some  drink,  now,  King  Henry ;  w 

Some  drink  ye  bring  to  me." 
"  O  what  drink's  in  this  house,  Ladie, 

That  ye're  nae  welcome  tee  ?  " 
"  O  ye  sew  up  your  horse's  hide, 

And  bring  in  a  drink  to  me."  eo 

And  he's  sew'd  up  the  bloody  hide, 
A  puncheon  o'  wine  put  in ; 


150  KING   HENRY. 

She  drank  it  a'  up  at  a  waught, 
Left  na  ae  drap  ahin'. 

"  A  bed,  a  bed,  now,  King  Henry,  ec 

A  bed  ye  mak  to  me ; 
For  ye  maun  pu'  the  heather  green, 
And  mak  a  bed  to  me." 

And  pu'd  has  he  the  heather  green, 

And  made  to  her  a  bed ;  70 

And  up  he's  ta'en  his  gay  mantle, 
And  o'er  it  has  he  spread. 

"  Tak  aff  your  claiths,  now,  King  Henry, 

And  lye  down  by  my  side ; " 
"  O  God  forbid,"  says  King  Henry,  n 

"  That  ever  the  like  betide  ; 
That  ever  the  fiend  that  wons  in  hell, 
Should  streek  down  by  my  side." 


Whan  nicht  was  gane,  and  day  was  come, 
And  the  sun  shone  thro'  the  ha', 

The  fairest  lady  that  ever  was  seen 
Lay  atween  him  and  the  wa'. 

"  O  weel  is  me ! "  says  King  Henry  ; 
"  How  lang'll  this  last  wi'  me  ?  " 
Then  out  it  spake  that  fair  lady,  — 
"  E'en  till  the  day  you  die. 


KING   HENRY.  151 


*'  For  I've  met  wi'  mony  a  gentle  kniclit, 

That  gae  me  sic  a  fill ; 
But  never  before  wi'  a  curteis  knicht, 
That  gae  me  a'  my  will." 


COSPATRICK. 

(Border  Minstrelsy,  iii.  263.) 

This  ballad,  which  is  still  very  popular,  is  known 
under  various  other  names,  as  Bothwell,  Child  Brenton, 
Lord  Dingwall,  We  were  Sisters,  we  were  Seven,  &c. 
Scott's  version  was  derived  principally  from  recitation, 
but  some  of  the  concluding  stanzas  were  taken  from 
Herd's.  Herd's  copy,  which  must  be  regarded  as  a 
fragment,  is  given  in  connection  with  the  present,  and 
Buchan's  in  the  Appendix  to  this  volume.  Another 
edition,  of  a  suspicious  character,  may  be  seen  in  Cro- 
mek's  Remains  of  NitJisdale  and  Galloway  Song, 
(p.  205.)  All  the  principal  incidents  of  the  story  are 
found  in  Ingefred  og  Gudrune,  Danske  Viser,  No.  194, 
translated  by  Jamieson,  Illustrations,  p.  340.  More  or 
less  imperfect  versions  of  the  same  are  Riddar  Olle, 
Svenska  Folk-Visor,  ii.  p.  217,  59,  56,  215,  and  Herr 
Aster  och  Froken  Sissa,  p.  50.  The  substitution  of  the 
maid-servant  for  the  bride,  occurs  also  in  Torkild  Trun- 
deson,  Danske  V.,  No.  200,  or  Thorkil  Troneson,  Ar- 
widsson,  No.  36.  This  idea  was  perhaps  derived  from 
Tristan  and  Isold:  see  Scott's  Sir  Tristrem,  II.  54,  55. 

COSPATRICK  has  sent  o'er  the  faem ; 
Cospatrick  brought  his  ladye  hame ; 
And  fourscore  ships  have  come  her  wi', 
The  ladye  by  the  grene-wood  tree. 

There  were  twaT  and  twaP  wi'  baken  bread,     « 
And  twaT  and  twal'  wi'  gowd  sae  reid, 
And  twal'  and  twal'  wi'  bouted  flour, 
And  twal'  and  twal'  wi'  the  paramour. 


COSPATRICK.  153 

Sweet  Willy  was  a  widow's  son, 

And  at  her  stirrup  he  did  run ;  10 

And  she  was  clad  in  the  finest  pall, 

But  aye  she  let  the  tears  down  fall. 

"  O  is  your  saddle  set  awrye  ? 
Or  rides  your  steed  for  you  ower  high  ? 
Or  are  you  mourning,  in  your  tide,  w 

That  you  suld  be  Cospatrick's  bride  ?  " 

"  I  am  not  mourning,  at  this  tide, 
That  I  suld  be  Cospatrick's  bride ; 
But  I  am  sorrowing  in  my  mood, 
That  I  suld  leave  my  mother  good.  20 

"  But,  gentle  boy,  come  tell  to  me, 

What  is  the  custom  of  thy  countrie  ?  " — 
"  The  custom  thereof,  my  dame,"  he  says, 
"  Will  ill  a  gentle  laydye  please. 

"  Seven  king's  daughters  has  our  lord  wedded,   25 
And    seven    king's    daughters    has   our    lord 

bedded ; 

But  he's  cutted  their  breasts  frae  their  breast- 
bane, 
And  sent  them  mourning  hame  again. 

"  Yet,  gin  you're  sure  that  you're  a  maid, 
Ye  may  gae  safely  to  his  bed ;  ao 


154  COSPATRICK. 

But  gif  o'  that  ye  be  na  sure, 

Then  hire  some  damsell  o'  your  bour." — 

The  ladye's  call'd  her  bour  maiden, 
That  waiting  was  into  her  train ; 
"  Five  thousand  merks  I'll  gie  to  thee,  ss 

To  sleep  this  night  with  my  lord  for  me." — 

When  bells  were  rung,  and  mass  was  sayne, 
And  a'  men  unto  bed  were  gane, 
Cospatrick  and  the  bonny  maid, 
Into  a  chamber  they  were  laid.  40 

"  Now,  speak  to  me,  blankets,  and  speak  to  me, 

bed, 

And  speak,  thou  sheet,  enchanted  web  ; 
And  speak  up,   my  bonny  brown  sword,  that 

winna  lie, 
Is  this  a  true  maiden  that  lies  by  me  ?  " — 

"  It  is  not  a  maid  that  you  hae  wedded,  « 

But  it  is  a  maid  that  you  hae  bedded  ; 
It  is  a  leal  maiden  that  lies  by  thee, 
But  not  the  maiden  that  it  should  be." — 

O  wrathfully  he  left  the  bed, 

And  wrathfully  his  claes  on  did  ;  GO 

And  he  has  ta'en  him  through  the  ha', 

And  on  his  mother  he  did  ca.' 


COSPATRICK.  155 

"  I  am  the  most  unhappy  man, 
That  ever  was  in  Christen  land ! 
I  courted  a  maiden,  meik  and  mild,  « 

And  I  hae  gotten  naething  but  a  woman  wi' 
child."— 

"  O  stay,  my  son,  into  this  ha', 
And  sport  ye  wi'  your  merrymen  a' ; 
And  I  will  to  the  secret  bour, 
To  see  how  it  fares  wi'  your  paramour." —      «> 

The  carline  she  was  stark  and  sture, 
She  aff  the  hinges  dang  the  dure  ; 
"  O  is  your  bairn  to  laird  or  loun, 
Or  is  it  to  your  father's  groom  ?  " — 

"  O  hear  me,  mother,  on  my  knee,  «B 

Till  my  sad  story  I  tell  to  thee : 
O  we  were  sisters,  sisters  seven, 
We  were  the  fairest  under  heaven. 

"  It  fell  on  a  summer's  afternoon, 
When  a'  our  toilsome  task  was  done,  ro 

We  cast  the  kevils  us  amang, 
To  see  which  suld  to  the  grene-wood  gang. 

"  Ohon  !  alas,  for  I  was  youngest, 
And  aye  my  wierd  it  was  the  hardest ! 
The  kevil  it  on  me  did  fa',  "> 

Whilk  was  the  cause  of  a'  my  woe. 


156  COSPATRICK. 

"  For  to  the  grene-wood  I  maun  gae, 
To  pu'  the  red  rose  and  the  slae ; 
To  pu'  the  red  rose  and  the  thyme, 
To  deck  my  mother's  bour  and  mine. 

"  I  hadna  pu'd  a  flower  but  ane, 
When  by  there  came  a  gallant  hende, 
Wi'  high-coll'd  hose  and  laigh-coll'd  shoon, 
And  he  seem'd  to  be  sum  kingis  son. 

"  And  be  I  a  maid,  or  be  I  nae, 
He  kept  me  there  till  the  close  o'  day ; 
And  be  I  a  maid,  or  be  I  nane, 
He  kept  me  there  till  the  day  was  done. 

"  He  gae  me  a  lock  o'  his  yellow  hair, 
And  bade  me  keep  it  ever  mair ; 
He  gae  me  a  carknet  o'  bonny  beads, 
And  bade  me  keep  it  against  my  needs. 

"  He  gae  to  me  a  gay  gold  ring, 
And  bade  me  keep  it  abune  a'  thing." — 

"  What  did  ye  wi'  the  tokens  rare, 
That  ye  gat  frae  that  gallant  there  ?  " — 

"  O  bring  that  coffer  unto  me, 
And  a'  the  tokens  ye  sail  see." — 

"  Now  stay,  daughter,  your  bour  within, 
While  I  gae  parley  wi'  my  son." — 


COSPATRICK.  157 

0  she  has  ta'en  her  thro'  the  ha', 
And  on  her  son  began  to  ca' ; 

"  What  did  ye  wi'  the  bonny  beads 

1  bade  you  keep  against  your  needs  ? 

u  What  did  you  wi'  the  gay  gold  ring  ice 

I  bade  you  keep  abune  a'  thing  ?  " — 

"  I  gae  them  to  a  ladye  gay, 
I  met  on  grene-wood  on  a  day. 

"  But  I  wad  gie  a'  my  halls  and  tours, 
I  had  that  ladye  within  my  bours ;  uo 

But  I  wad  gie  my  very  life, 
I  had  that  ladye  to  my  wife." — 

"  Now  keep,  my  son,  your  ha's  and  tours, 
Ye  have  the  bright  burd  in  your  bours ; 
And  keep,  my  son,  your  very  life,  n& 

Ye  have  that  ladye  to  your  wife." — 

Now,  or  a  month  was  come  and  gane, 

The  ladye  bare  a  bonny  son ; 

And  'twas  weel  written  on  his  breast-bane, 
"  Cospatrick  is  my  father's  name."  120 

"  O  row  my  lady  in  satin  and  silk, 

And  wash  my  son  in  the  morning  milk." 


120.  Cospatrick,  Comes  Patricius,  was  the  designation  of 
the  Earl  of  Dunbar,  in  the  days  of  Wallace  and  Bruce.  — 
SCOTT. 


BOTHWELL. 

From  Herd's  Scottish  Sonffs,  (L  143.) 

As  Bothwell  was  walking  in  the  lowlands  alane, 

Hey  down,  and  a  down, 
He  met  six  ladies  sae  gallant  and  fine, 

Hey  down,  and  a  down. 

He  cast  his  lot  amang  them  a',  & 

And  on  the  youngest  his  lot  did  fa'. 

He's  brought  her  frae  her  mother's  bower, 
Unto  his  strongest  castle  and  tower. 

But  ay  she  cry'd  and  made  great  moan, 

And  ay  the  tear  came  trickling  down.  10 

"  Come  up,  come  up,"  said  the  foremost  man, 
"  I  think  our  bride  comes  slowly  on." 

"  O  lady,  sits  your  saddle  awry, 
Or  is  your  steed  for  you  owre  high  ?  " 

"  My  saddle  is  not  set  awry,  w 

Nor  carries  me  my  steed  owre  high ; 


BOTHWELL.  159 

"  But  I  am  weary  of  my  life, 
Since  I  maun  be  Lord  Bothwell's  wife." 

He's  bkwn  his  horn  sae  sharp  and  shrill, 

Up  start  the  deer  on  every  hill ;  20 

He's  blawn  his  horn  sae  lang  and  loud, 
Up  start  the  deer  in  gude  green  wood. 

His  lady  mother  lookit  owre  the  castle  wa', 
And  she  saw  them  riding  ane  and  a'. 

She's  called  upon  her  maids  by  seven,  25 

To  mak  his  bed  baith  saft  and  even: 

She's  called  upon  her  cooks  by  nine, 
To  make  their  dinner  fab*  and  fine. 

When  day  was  gane  and  night  was  come, 
"  What  ails  my  love  on  me  to  frown  ?  so 

"  Or  does  the  wind  blow  in  your  glove, 
Or  runs  your  mind  on  another  love  ?  " 

"  Nor  blows  the  wind  within  my  glove, 
Nor  runs  my  mind  on  another  love  ; " 

;i  But  I  not  maid  nor  maiden  am,  es 

For  I'm  wi'  bairn  to  another  man." 


160  BOTHWELL. 

"  I  thought  I'd  a  maiden  sae  meek  and  sae  mild, 
But  I've  nought  but  a  woman  wi'  child." 

His  mother's  taen  her  up  to  a  tower, 

And  lockit  her  in  her  secret  bower :  «o 

t'  Now  doughter  mine,  come  tell  to  me, 
Wha's  bairn  this  is  that  you  are  wi'." 

"  O  mother  dear,  I  canna  learn 
"Wha  is  the  father  of  my  bairn. 

"  But  as  I  walk'd  in  the  lowlands  my  lane,         45 
I  met  a  gentleman  gallant  and  fine ; 

"  He  keepit  me  there  sae  late  and  sae  lang, 
Frae  the  ev'ning  late  till  the  morning  dawn ; 

"  And  a'  that  he  gied  me  to  my  propine,  49 

Was  a  pair  of  green  gloves,  and  a  gay  gold  ring, 


"  Three  lauchters  of  his  yellow  hair, 
In  case  that  we  shou'd  meet  nae  mair." 

His  lady  mother  went  down  the  stair : 
"  Now  son,  now  son,  come  tell  to  me, 
Where's  the  green  gloves  I  gave  to  thee  ?  "     ss 

"  I  gied  to  a  lady  sae  fair  and  so  fine, 
The  green  gloves  and  a  gay  gold  ring  : 


BOTHWELL.  161 

"  But  I  wad  gie  my  castles  and  towers, 
I  had  that  lady  within  my  bowers  : 

"  But  I  wad  gie  my  very  life,  eo 

I  had  that  lady  to  be  my  wife." 

"  Now  keep,  now  keep  your  castles  and  towers, 
You  have  that  lady  within  your  bowers  : 

"  Now  keep,  now  keep  your  very  life, 
You  have  that  lady  to  be  your  wife."  t£ 

"  O  row  my  lady  in  sattin  and  silk, 
And  wash  my  son  in  the  morning  milk." 


11 


WILLIE'S  LADYE. 

PRINTED  from  Mrs.  Brown's  MS.,  in  the  Border 
Minstrelsy,  vol.  iii.  p.  170.  Another  copy  is  given  in 
Jamieson's  Popular  Ballads,  (ii.  367,)  and  versions, 
enlarged  and  altered  from  the  ancient,  in  the  same 
work,  (ii.  179,)  and  in  Tales  of  Wonder,  No.  56. 
This  ballad  bears  a  striking  resemblance  to  Sir  Stig 
and  Lady  Torelild,  translated  from  the  Danish  by 
Jamieson,  Illustrations  of  Northern  Antiquities,  p.  344. 
This  is  the  eighth  (marked  H)  of  nine  Danish  ballads 
given  by  Grundtvig,  under  the  title  Hustru  og  Mands 
Moder,  vol.  ii.  404.  Three  Swedish  versions  have 
been  printed :  two  in  Arwidsson's  Fornsdnger,  Liten 
Kerstins  F6rtrollning,\\.  252,  and  another  (Grundtvig) 
in  Cavallius  and  Stephens's  Svenska  Folksagor. 

"  Those  who  wish  to  know  how  an  incantation,  or 
charm,  of  the  distressing  nature  here  described,  was 
performed  in  classic  days,  may  consult  the  story  of 
Galanthis's  Metamorphosis,  in  Ovid,  or  the  following 
passage  in  Apuleius  :  '  Eadem  (saga,  scilicet,  quaedam) 
amatoris  uxorem,  quod  in  earn  dicacule  probrum  dix- 
erat,  jam  in  sarcinam  prsegnationis,  obsepto  utero,  et 
repigrato  foetu,  perpetua  praegnatione  damnavit.  Et 
ut  cuncti  numerant,  octo  annorum  onere,  misella  ilia, 
velut  elephantum  paritura,  distenditur.'  APUL.  Me- 
tarn.  lib.  i. 

"  There  is  a  curious  tale  about  a  Count  of  Wester- 
avia,  whom  a  deserted  concubine  bewitched  upon  his 
marriage,  so  as  to  preclude  all  hopes  of  his  becoming 
a  father.  The  spell  continued  to  operate  for  three 
years,  till  one  day,  the  Count  happening  to  meet  with 


WILLIE'S  LAD  YE.  163 

his  former  mistress,  she  maliciously  asked  him  about 
the  increase  of  his  family.  The  Count,  conceiving 
some  suspicion  from  her  manner,  craftily  answered, 
that  God  had  blessed  him  with  three  fine  children ;  on 
which  she  exclaimed,  like  Willie's  mother  in  the  ballad, 
"  May  heaven  confound  the  old  hag,  by  whose  counsel 
I  threw  an  enchanted  pitcher  into  the  draw-well  of 
your  palace  ! "  The  spell  being  found,  and  destroyed, 
the  Count  became  the  father  of  a  numerous  family. 
Hierarchic  of  the  Blessed  Angels,  p.  474."  SCOTT. 

WILLIE'S  ta'en  him  o'er  the  faem, 
He's  wooed  a  wife,  and  brought  her  hame ; 
He's  wooed  her  for  her  yellow  hair, 
But  his  mother  wrought  her  meikle  care  ; 

And  meikle  dolour  gar'd  her  dree,  « 

For  lighter  she  can  never  be ; 
But  in  her  bower  she  sits  wi'  pain, 
And  Willie  mourns  o'er  her  in  vain. 

And  to  his  mother  lie  has  gane, 

That  vile  rank  witch,  o'  vilest  kind  !  10 

He  says  —  "  My  ladie  has  a  cup, 

Wi'  gowd  and  silver  set  about ; 

This  gudely  gift  sail  be  your  ain, 

And  let  her  be  lighter  o'  her  young  bairn." — 

"  Of  her  young  bairn  she's  never  be  lighter,      15 
Nor  in  her  bour  to  shine  the  brighter  : 
But  she  sail  die,  and  turn  to  clay, 
And  you  sail  wed  another  may." — 


164  WILLIE'S  LADTE. 

"  Another  may  I'll  never  wed, 
Another  may  I'll  never  bring  hame  :  " — 
But,  sighing,  said  that  weary  \tight — 

"  I  wish  my  life  were  at  an  end ! 

"  Yet  gae  ye  to  your  mother  again, 
That  vile  rank  witch,  o'  vilest  kind ! 
And  say,  your  ladye  has  a  steed, 
The  like  o'  him's  no  in  the  land  o'  Leed. 

"  For  he  is  silver  shod  before, 
And  he  is  gowden  shod  behind  ; 
At  every  tuft  of  that  horse  mane, 
There's  a  golden  chess,  and  a  bell  to  ring. 
This  gudely  gift  sail  be  her  ain, 
And  let  me  be  lighter  o'  my  young  bairn." 

"  Of  her  young  bairn  she's  ne'er  be  lighter, 
Nor  in  her  bour  to  shine  the  brighter  ; 
But  she  sail  die,  and  turn  to  clay, 
And  ye  sail  wed  another  may." — 

"  Another  may  I'll  never  wed, 
Another  may  I'll  never  bring  hame : " — 
But,  sighing,  said  that  weary  wight — 

"  I  wish  my  life  were  at  an  end ! — 

"  Yet  gae  ye  to  your  mother  again, 
That  vile  rank  witch,  o'  rankest  kind  ! 
And  say  your  ladye  has  a  girdle, 
It's  a'  red  gowd  to  the  middle  ; 


WILLIE'S  LAD  YE.  165 

"  And  aye,  at  ilka  siller  hem  45 

Hang  fifty  siller  bells  and  ten ; 
This  gudely  gift  sail  be  her  ain, 
And  let  me  be  lighter  o'  my  young  bairn." — 

"  Of  her  young  bairn  she's  ne'er  be  lighter, 
Nor  in  your  bour  to  shine  the  brighter  ;  ^ 

For  she  sail  die,  and  turn  to  clay. 
And  thou  sail  wed  another  may." — 

"  Another  may  I'll  never  wed, 
Another  may  I'll  never  bring  hame : " — 
But,  sighing,  said  that  weary  wight —  « 

"  I  wish  my  days  were  at  an  end  !  " — 

Then  out  and  spak  the  Billy  Blind, 
(He  spak  aye  in  good  tune :) 
"  Yet  gae  ye  to  the  market-place, 
And  there  do  buy  a  loaf  of  wace  ;  eo 

Do  shape  it  bairn  and  bairnly  like, 
And  in  it  twa  glassen  een  you'll  put ; 

"  And  bid  her  your  boy's  christening  to, 
Then  notice  weel  what  she  shall  do  ; 
And  do  you  stand  a  little  away,  « 

To  notice  weel  what  she  may  say." 


67.  Bitty  BUnd—A.  familiar  genius,  or  propitious  spirit, 
somewhat  similar  to  the  Brownie. 


166  WILLIE'S  LAD  YE. 

He  did  him  to  the  marketplace, 

And  there  he  bought  a  loaf  o'  wax  ; 

He  shaped  it  bairn  and  bairnly  like, 

And  in  twa  glazen  een  he  pat ;  ro 

He  did  him  till  his  mither  then, 
And  bade  her  to  his  boy's  christnin  ; 
And  he  did  stand  a  little  forbye, 
And  noticed  well  what  she  did  say. 

"  0  wha  has  loosed  the  nine  witch  knots,  n 

That  were  amang  that  ladye's  locks  ? 
And  wha's  ta'en  out  the  kaims  o'  care, 
That  were  amang  that  ladye's  hair  ? 

"  And  wha  has  ta'en  down  that  bush  o'  woodbine, 
That  hung  between  her  bour  and  mine  ?          so 
And  wha  has  kill'd  the  master  kid, 
That  ran  beneath  that  ladye's  bed  ? 
And  wha  has  loosed  her  left  foot  shee, 
And  let  that  ladye  lighter  be  ?  " 

Syne,  Willy's  loosed  the  nine  witch  knots,        ss 
That  were  amang  that  ladye's  locks  ; 
And  Willie's  ta'en  out  the  kaims  o'  care, 
That  were  into  that  ladye's  hair ; 


67-74.  Inserted  from  Jamieson's  copy.     68.  Zeq/",  Jamieson. 
81.  The  witch's  chief  familiar,  placed  in  the  chamber  of 
the  sick  woman  in  the  form  of  a  kid. 


WILLIE'S  LAD  YE.  167 

And  he's  ta'en  down  the  bush  o'  woodbine, 
Hung  atween  her  bour  and  the  witch  carline  ;  90 
And  he  has  kill'd  the  master  kid, 
That  ran  beneath  that  ladye's  bed ; 

And  he  has  loosed  her  left  foot  shee, 

And  latten  that  ladye  lighter  be  ; 

And  now  he  has  gotten  a  bonny  son,  M 

And  meikle  grace  be  him  upon. 


ALISON  GROSS. 

Jamieson's  Popular  Ballads,  ii.  187. 

FROM  THE  RECITATION  OF  MRS.  BROWN. 

The  beginning  is  to  be  compared  with  Lindormen, 
the  whole  ballad  with  Jomfruen  i  Ormeham,  Grundt- 
vig's  Folkeviser,  ii.  213,  177. 

0  ALISON  GROSS,  that  lives  in  yon  tower, 
The  ugliest  witch  in  the  north  countrie, 

Has  trysted  me  ae  day  up  till  her  bower, 
And  mony  fair  speech  she  made  to  me. 

She  straiked  my  head,  and  she  kembed  my  hair, 
And  she  set  me  down  saftly  on  her  knee,  e 

Says, — «  Gin  ye  will  be  my  lemman  sae  true, 
Sae  mony  braw  things  as  I  would  you  gi'e." 

She  shaw'd  me  a  mantle  o'  red  scarlet, 

Wi'  gouden  flowers  and  fringes  fine,  10 

Says  "  Gin  ye  will  be  my  lemman  sae  true, 
This  goodly  gift  it  sail  be  thine." 

"  Awa,  awa,  ye  ugly  witch, 

Haud  far  awa,  and  lat  me  be  ; 

1  never  will  be  your  lemman  sae  true,  w 
And  I  wish  I  were  out  of  your  company." 


ALISON    GROSS.  169 

She  neist  brocht  a  sark  o'  the  saftest  silk, 
Weel  wrought  wi'  pearls  about  the  band ; 

Says, — "  Gin  ye  will  be  my  ain  true  love, 
This  goodly  gift  ye  sail  command."  a> 

She  shaw'd  me  a  cup  o'  the  good  red  goud, 
Weel  set  wi'  jewels  sae  fair  to  see  ; 

Says, — "  Gin  ye  will  be  my  lemman  sae  true, 
This  goodly  gift  I  will  you  gie." 

"  Awa,  awa,  ye  ugly  witch !  25 

Haud  far  awa,  and  lat  me  be  ; 
For  I  wadna  ance  kiss  your  ugly  mouth 
For  a'  the  gifts  that  ye  cou'd  gie." 

She's  turned  her  richt  and  round  about, 

And  thrice  she  blew  on  a  grass-green  horn;  so 

And  she  sware  by  the  moon  and  the  stars  aboon, 
That  she'd  gar  me  rue  the  day  I  was  born. 

Then  out  has  she  ta'en  a  silver  wand, 

And  she's  turned  her  three  times  round  and 

round ; 

She's  mutter'd  sic  words,  that  my  strength  it 
fail'd,  35 

And  I  fell  down  senseless  on  the  ground. 

She's  turn'd  me  into  an  ugly  worm, 
And  gar'd  me  toddle  about  the  tree  ; 


170  ALISON    GROSS. 

And  ay,  on  ilka  Saturday's  night, 

My  sister  Maisry  came  to  me,  <o 

Wi'  silver  bason,  and  silver  kemb, 
To  kemb  my  headie  upon  her  knee ; 

But  or  I  had  kiss'd  her  ugly  mouth, 
I'd  rather  hae  toddled  about  the  tree. 

But  as  it  fell  out  on  last  Hallowe'en,  45 

When  the  Seely  Court  was  ridin'  by, 

The  queen  lighted  down  on  a  gowan  bank, 
Nae  far  frae  the  tree  whare  I  wont  to  lye. 

She  took  me  up  in  her  milk-white  hand, 

And  she  straiked  me  three  times  o'er  her 
knee ;  go 

She  changed  me  again  to  my  ain  proper  shape, 
And  I  nae  mair  maun  toddle  about  the  tree. 

46.  Seely  Court,  i.  e.  "  pleasant  or  happy  court,"  or  "  court 
of  the  pleasant  and  happy  people."  This  agrees  with  the 
ancient  and  more  legitimate  idea  of  Fairies.  JAMIESON.  See 
p.  120,  v.  131,  et  seq. 


THE  EARL  OF  MAR'S  DAUGHTER. 

From  Buchan's  Ancient  Ballads  and  Songs  of  the  North  of 
Scotland,  (i.  49.) 

It  is  much  to  be  regretted  that  this  piece  has  not 
come  down  to  us  in  a  purer  and  more  ancient  form. 
Similar  ballads  are  found  in  Danish,  Swedish,  and 
Faroish.  Several  forms  of  the  Danish  are  given  by 
Grundtvig  (Rldderen  i  Fugleham,  No.  68),  who  also 
cites  many  popular  tales  which  have  the  same  basis, 
e.  g.  the  Countess  d'Aulnoy's  fairy  story  of  The  Blue 
Bird. 

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,  5 

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  gowd  hingers  roun'  your  cage, 

And  siller  roun'  your  wa' ; 
I'll  gar  ye  shine  as  fair  a  bird 
As  ony  o'  them  a'." 


172    THE  EARL  OF  MAR'S  DAUGHTER. 

But  she  had  nae  these  words  well  spoke, 
Nor  yet  these  words  well  said, 

Till  Cow-me-doo  flew  frae  the  tower, 

And  lighted  on  her  head.  ao 

Then  she  has  brought  this  pretty  bird 
Hame  to  her  bowers  and  ha' ; 

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 ;  so 

My  door  was  bolted  right  secure ; 
What  way  ha'e  ye  come  here  ?  " 

"  O  had  your  tongue,  ye  lady  fair, 

Lat  a'  your  folly  be  ; 

Mind  ye  not  on  your  turtle  doo  so 

Last  day  ye  brought  wi'  thee  ?  " 

"  O  tell  me  mair,  young  man,"  she  said, 
"  This  does  surprise  me  now ; 
WTiat  country  ha'e  ye  come  frae  ? 

What  pedigree  are  you  ?  "  40 


THE  EARL  OF  MAR'S  DAUGHTER.    173 

"  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  skill'd  in  magic  spells, 

As  ye  may  plainly  see  ; 
And  she  transform'd  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, —  55 

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."  a 

"  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  ha'e  said." 


174    THE  EARL  OF  MAR'S  DAUGHTER. 

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  cou'd  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,  "  Waes  me  for  this  day ! 


THE    EARL    OF    MAR'S    DAUGHTER.          175 

"  Before  that  I  do  langer  stay, 

And  thus  to  be  forlorn,  w 

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.  100 

"  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,  ion 

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,  110 

Tell  me  this  day  without  a  flaw, 
What  I  will  do  for  you." 


17G    THE  EARL  OF  MAR*S  DAUGHTER. 

"  Instead  of  dancers  to  dance,  mither, 

Or  minstrells  for  to  play, 
Turn  four-and-twenty  wall-wight  men,        u* 
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."  uo 

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,  i^ 

Or  minstrells  for  to  play, 
Four-and-twenty  wall-wight  men 

Turn'd  birds  o'  feathers  gray  ; 

Her  seven  sons  in  seven  swans, 

Aboon  their  heads  to  flee  ;  i* 

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,      135 

Took  shelter  in  every  tree. 


THE  EARL  OF  MAR'S  DAUGHTER.    177 

They  were  a  flock  o'  pretty  birds, 

Right  comely  to  be  seen  ; 
The  people  view'd  them  wi'  surprise, 

As  they  danc'd  on  the  green.  i« 

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,     145 
They  cou'd  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  ;  isc 

And  wi'  the  twinkling  o'  an  e'e, 
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  cou'd  the  companie  do, 

Nor  naething  cou'd  they  say ; 
But  they  saw  a  flock  o'  pretty  birds 

That  took  their  bride  away.  ieo 

VOL.  I.  12 


178     THE  EARL  OF  MAR'S  DAUGHTER. 

When  that  Earl  Mar  he  came  to  know 
Where  his  dochter  did  stay, 

He  sign'd  a  bond  o'  unity, 
And  visits  now  they  pay. 


YOUNG   AKIN. 

Mr.  Kinioch  printed  a  fragment  of  this  ballad  under 
the  title  of  Hynde  Etin.  (See  Appendix.)  The  story 
was  afterwards  given  complete  by  Buchan,  (Ballads 
of  the  North  of  Scotland,  i.  6,)  as  here  follows.  Bu 
chan  had  previously  communicated  to  Motherwell  a 
modernized  version  of  the  same  tale,  in  which  the  Etin 
is  changed  to  a  Groom.  (See  post.} 

This  ancient  ballad  has  suffered  severely  in  the 
course  of  its  transmission  to  our  times.  Still  there 
can  be  no  doubt  that  it  was  originally  the  same  as  The 
Maid  and  the  Dwarf  King,  which  is  still  sung  in  Den 
mark,  Norway,  Sweden,  and  the  Faroe  Islands.  Nu 
merous  copies  of  the  Scandinavian  ballad  have  been 
given  to  the  world  :  seven  Danish  versions,  more  or 
less  complete,  four  Norse,  nine  Swedish,  one  Faroish, 
and  some  other  fragments  (Grundtvig,  ii.  37,  and  note, 
p.  655).  One  of  the  Swedish  ballads  (Bergkonungen, 
Afzelius,  No.  35)  is  translated  in  Keightley's  Fairy 
Mythology,  103,  under  the  title  of  Proud  Margaret. 
Closely  related  is  Agnete  og  Hamnanden,  Grundtvig, 
ii.  48,  656,  which  is  found  in  several  forms  in  German 
(e.  g.  Die  schone  Hannele  in  Hoffmann  von  Fallersle- 
ben's  Schlesische  Volkslieder,  No.  1),  and  two  in  Slavic. 

LADY  MARGARET  sits  in  her  bower  door, 

Sewing  at  her  silken  seam ; 
She  heard  a  note  in  Elmond's-wood, 

And  wish'd  she  there  had  been. 

She  loot  the  seam  fa'  frae  her  side,  « 

And  the  needle  to  her  tae ; 
And  she  is  on  to  Elmond-wood 

As  fast  as  she  coud  gae. 


180  YOUNG   AKIN. 

She  hadna  pu'd  a  nut,  a  nut, 
Nor  broken  a  branch  but  ane, 

Till  by  it  came  a  young  hind  chiel, 
Says,  "  Lady,  lat  alane. 

"  O  why  pu'  ye  the  nut,  the  nut, 
Or  why  brake  ye  the  tree  ? 
For  I  am  forester  o'  this  wood : 
Ye  shou'd  spier  leave  at  me." 

''I'll  ask  leave  at  no  living  man, 

Nor  yet  will  I  at  thee  ; 
My  father  is  king  o'er  a'  this  realm, 
This  wood  belongs  to  me." 

She  hadna  pu'd  a  nut,  a  nut, 
Nor  broken  a  branch  but  three, 

Till  by  it  came  him  Young  Akin, 
And  gar'd  her  lat  them  be. 

The  highest  tree  in  Elmond's-wood, 

He's  pu'd  it  by  the  reet ; 
And  he  has  built  for  her  a  bower 

Near  by  a  hallow  seat. 

% 
He's  built  a  bower,  made  it  secure 

Wi'  carbuncle  and  stane ; 
Tho'  travellers  were  never  sae  nigh, 

Appearance  it  had  nane. 


YOUNG   AKIN.  181 

He's  kept  her  there  in  Elmond's-wood, 

For  six  lang  years  and  one ; 
Till  six  pretty  sons  to  him  she  bear,  ae 

And  the  seventh  she's  brought  home. 

It  fell  ance  upon  a  day, 

This  guid  lord  went  from  home ; 

And  he  is  to  the  hunting  gane, 

Took  wi'  him  his  eldest  son.  40 

And  when  they  were  on  a  guid  way, 

Wi'  slowly  pace  did  walk, 
The  boy's  heart  being  something  wae, 

He  thus  began  to  talk :  — 

"  A  question  I  wou'd  ask,  father,  « 

Gin  ye  wou'dna  angry  be  ?  " 
"  Say  on,  say  on,  my  bonny  boy, 

Ye'se  nae  be  quarrell'd  by  me." 

"  I  see  my  mither's  cheeks  aye  weet, 

I  never  can  see  them  dry  ;  so 

And  I  wonder  what  aileth  my  mither, 
To  mourn  continually." 

"  Your  mither  was  a  king's  daughter, 

Sprung  frae  a  high  degree ; 
And  she  might  hae  wed  some  worthy  prince,  M 
Had  she  nae  been  stown  by  me. 


182  YOUNG   AKIN. 

"  I  was  her  father's  cup-bearer, 

Just  at  that  fatal  time  ; 
I  catch'd  her  on  a  misty  night, 
Whan  summer  was  in  prime. 

"  My  luve  to  her  was  most  sincere, 

Her  luve  was  great  for  me ; 
But  when  she  hardships  doth  endure, 
Her  folly  she  does  see." 

"  I'll  shoot  the  buntin'  o'  the  bush, 

The  linnet  o'  the  tree, 
And  bring  them  to  my  dear  mither, 
See  if  she'll  merrier  be." 

It  fell  upo'  another  day, 

This  guid  lord  he  thought  lang, 

And  he  is  to  the  hunting  gane, 
Took  wi'  him  his  dog  and  gun. 

Wi'  bow  and  arrow  by  his  side, 

He's  aff,  single,  alane ; 
And  left  his  seven  children  to  stay 

Wi'  their  mither  at  name. 

"  O,  I  will  tell  to  you,  mither, 
Gin  ye  wadna  angry  be  : " 

"  Speak  on,  speak  on,  my  little  wee  boy, 
Ye'se  nae  be  quarrell'd  by  me." 


YOUNG   AKIN.  183 

"  As  we  came  frae  the  hynd  hunting, 

We  heard  fine  music  ring : " 
"  My  blessings  on  you,  my  bonny  boy, 

I  wish  I'd  been  there  my  lane." 

He's  ta'en  his  mither  by  the  hand,  M 

His  six  brithers  also, 
And  they  are  on  thro'  Elmond's-wood, 

As  fast  as  they  coud  go. 

They  wistna  weel  where  they  were  gaen. 

Wi'  the  stratlins  o'  their  feet ;  so 

They  wistna  weel  where  they  were  gaen, 

Till  at  her  father's  yate. 

"  I  hae  nae  money  in  my  pocket, 

But  royal  rings  hae  three  ; 
I'll  gie  them  you,  my  little  young  son,          & 
And  ye'll  walk  there  for  me. 

*  Ye'll  gi'e  the  first  to  the  proud  porter, 

And  he  will  lat  you  in  ; 
Ye'll  gi'e  the  next  to  the  butler  boy, 

And  he  will  show  you  ben ;  100 


97.  The  regular  propitiation  for  the  "proud  porter"  of 
ballad  poetry.  See,  e.  g.,  King  Arthur  and  the  King  of  Corn- 
watt,  in  the  Appendix,  v.  49 :  also  the  note  to  King  Estmere, 
vol.  iii.  p.  172. 


184  YOUNG   AKIN. 

"  Ye'll  gi'e  the  third  to  the  minstrel 

That  plays  before  the  king ; 
He'll  play  success  to  the  bonny  boy 
Came  thro'  the  .wood  him  lane." 

He  ga'e  the  first  to  the  proud  porter, 
And  he  open'd  an'  let  him  in ; 

He  ga'e  the  next  to  the  butler  boy, 
And  he  has  shown  him  ben ; 

He  ga'e  the  third  to  the  minstrel 
That  play'd  before  the  king ; 

And  he  play'd  success  to  the  bonny  boy 
Came  thro'  the  wood  him  lane. 


Now  when  he  came  before  the  king, 
Fell  low  down  on  his  knee  : 

The  king  he  turned  round  about, 
And  the  saut  tear  blinded  his  ee. 

"  Win  up,  win  up,  my  bonny  boy, 

Gang  frae  my  companie  ; 
Ye  look  sae  like  my  dear  daughter, 
My  heart  will  birst  in  three." 

"  If  I  look  like  your  dear  daughter, 

A  wonder  it  is  none ; 
If  I  look  like  your  dear  daughter, 
I  am  her  eldest  son." 


YOUNG     AKIN.  185 

"  Will  ye  tell  me,  ye  little  wee  boy,  12* 

Where  may  my  Margaret  be  ?  " 
"  She's  just  now  standing  at  your  yates, 

And  my  six  brithers  her  wi'." 

« 

"  O  where  are  all  my  porter  boys 

That  I  pay  meat  and  fee,  iao 

To  open  my  yates  baith  wide  and  braid  ? 
Let  her  come  in  to  me." 

When  she  came  in  before  the  king, 

Fell  low  down  on  her  knee : 
"  Win  up,  win  up,  my  daughter  dear,  135 

This  day  ye'll  dine  wi  me." 

"  Ae  bit  I  canno'  eat,  father, 
Nor  ae  drop  can  I  drink, 
Till  I  see  my  mither  and  sister  dear, 

For  lang  for  them  I  think."  MO 

When  she  came  before  the  queen, 

Fell  low  down  on  her  knee  : 

"  Win  up,  win  up,  my  daughter  dear, 

This  day  ye'se  dine  wi'  me." 

"  Ae  bit  I  canno'  eat,  mither,  145 

Nor  ae  drop  can  I  drink, 
Until  I  see  my  dear  sister, 
For  lang  for  her  I  think." 


186  YOUNG   AKIN. 

When  that  these  two  sisters  met, 

She  hail'd  her  courteouslie :  IK 

"  Come  ben,  come  ben,  my  sister  dear, 
This  day  ye'se  dine  wi'  me." 

"  Ae  bit  I  canno'  eat,  sister, 

Nor  ae  drop  can  I  drink, 
Until  I  see  my  dear  husband,  iss 

For  lang  for  him  I  think." 

"  O  where  are  all  my  rangers  bold 

That  I  pay  meat  and  fee, 
To  search  the  forest  far  an'  wide, 

And  bring  Akin  to  me  ?  "  leo 

Out  it  speaks  the  wee  little  boy, — 
"  Na,  na,  this  maunna  be  ; 
Without  ye  grant  a  free  pardon, 
I  hope  ye'll  nae  him  see." 

"  O  here  I  grant  a  free  pardon,  m 

Well  seal'd  by  my  own  han' ; 
Ye  may  make  search  for  young  Akin, 
As  soon  as  ever  you  can." 

They  search'd  the  country  wide  and  braid, 
The  forests  far  and  near,  iro 

And  found  him  into  Elmond's-wood, 
Tearing  his  yellow  hair. 


YOUNG   AKIN.  187 

"  Win  up,  win  up,  now  young  Akin. 

Win  up,  and  boun  wi'  me  ; 
We're  messengers  come  from  the  court ;    175 
The  king  wants  you  to  see." 

"  0  lat  him  take  frae  me  my  head, 

Or  hang  me  on  a  tree ; 
For  since  I've  lost  my  dear  lady, 

Life's  no  pleasure  to  me."  iso 

"  Your  head  will  nae  be  touch'd,  Akin, 

Nor  hang'd  upon  a  tree  : 
Your  lady's  in  her  father's  court, 
And  all  he  wants  is  thee." 

When  he  came  in  before  the  king,  iss 

Fell  low  down  on  his  knee : 

"  Win  up,  win  up  now,  young  Akin, 

This  day  ye'se  dine  wi'  me." 

But  as  they  were  at  dinner  set, 

The  boy  asked  a  boun  ;  ia> 

"  I  wish  we  were  in  the  good  church, 
For  to  get  christendoun. 

"  We  ha'e  lived  in  guid  green  wood 

This  seven  years  and  ane  ; 
But  a'  this  time  since  e'er  I  mind,  iw 

Was  never  a  church  within." 


188  YOUNG   AKIN. 

"  Your  asking  's  nae  sae  great,  my  boy, 

But  granted  it  shall  be  ; 
This  day  to  guid  church  ye  shall  gang, 
And  your  mither  shall  gang  you  wi'." 

When  unto  the  guid  church  she  came, 

She  at  the  door  did  stan' ; 
She  was  sae  sair  sunk  down  wi'  shame, 

She  coudna  come  farer  ben. 

Then  out  it  speaks  the  parish  priest, 

And  a  sweet  smile  gae  he  ;  — 
"  Come  ben,  come  ben,  my  lily  flower, 

Present  your  babes  to  me." 
i 

Charles,  Vincent,  Sam,  and  Dick, 
And  likewise  James  and  John ; 

They  call'd  the  eldest  Young  Akin, 
Which  was  his  father's  name. 

Then  they  staid  in  the  royal  court, 
And  liv'd  wi'  mirth  and  glee ; 

And  when  her  father  was  deceas'd, 
Heir  of  the  crown  was  she. 


YOUNG  HASTINGS  THE  GROOM. 

(Motherwell's  Minstrelsy,  p.  287.) 

"  O  WELL  love  I  to  ride  in  a  mist, 
And  shoot  in  a  northern  wind  ; 
And  far  better  a  lady  to  steal, 
That 's  come  of  a  noble  kind." 

Four-and-twenty  fair  ladies  5 

Put  on  that  lady's  sheen  ; 
And  as  many  young  gentlemen 

Did  lead  her  o'er  the  green. 

Yet  she  preferred  before  them  all 

Him,  young  Hastings  the  Groom ;  10 

He  's  coosten  a  mist  before  them  all, 
And  away  this  lady  has  ta'en. 

He  's  taken  the  lady  on  him  behind, 
Spared  neither  the  grass  nor  corn, 

Till  they  came  to  the  wood  of  Amonshaw,  is 
Where  again  their  loves  were  sworn. 


190  YOUNG   HASTINGS    THE    GROOM. 

And  they  have  lived  in  that  wood 
Full  many  a  year  and  day, 

And  were  supported  from  time  to  time, 
By  what  he  made  of  prey. 

And  seven  bairns,  fair  and  fine, 
There  she  has  born  to  him, 

And  never  was  in  good  church  door, 
Nor  never  gat  good  kirking. 

Once  she  took  harp  into  her  hand, 
And  harped  them  asleep ; 

Then  she  sat  down  at  their  couch  side, 
And  bitterly  did  weep. 

Said,  "  Seven  bairns  have  I  born  now 

To  my  lord  in  the  ha' ; 
I  wish  they  were  seven  greedy  rats, 

To  run  upon  the  wa', 
And  I  mysel'  a  great  grey  cat, 

To  eat  them  ane  an*  a'. 

"  For  ten  long  years  now  I  have  lived 

Within  this  cave  of  stane, 
And  never  was  at  good  church  door, 
Nor  got  no  good  churching." 

O  then  outspak  her  eldest  child, 
And  a  fine  boy  was  he, — 


YOUNG  HASTINGS  THE  GROOM.     191 

"  0  hold  your  tongue,  my  mother  dear ; 
I'll  tell  you  what  to  dee. 

"  Take  you  the  youngest  in  your  lap, 
The  next  youngest  by  the  hand  ; 
Put  all  the  rest  of  us  you  before,  « 

As  you  learnt  us  to  gang. 

"  And  go  with  us  into  some  good  kirk, — 

You  say  they  are  built  of  stane, — 
And  let  us  all  be  christened, 

And  you  get  good  kirking."  so 

She  took  the  youngest  in  her  lap, 
The  next  youngest  by  the  hand ; 

Set  all  the  rest  of  them  her  before, 
As  she  learnt  them  to  gang. 

And  she  has  left  the  wood  with  them,          55 

And  to  a  kirk  has  gane  ; 
Where  the  good  priest  them  christened, 

And  gave  her  good  kirking. 


CLERK  COLVILL,  OR  THE  MERMAID. 

This  ballad  exemplifies  a  superstition  deeply  rooted 
in  the  belief  of  all  the  northern  nations, — the  desire  of 
the  Elves  and  Water-spirits  for  the  love  of  Christians, 
and  the  danger  of  being  exposed  to  their  fascination. 
The  object  of  their  fatal  passion  is  generally  a  bride 
groom,  or  a  bride,  on  the  eve  of  marriage.  See,  in  the 
Appendix,  Sir  Olnf  and  the  Elf-King's  Daughter,  for 
further  illustrations ;  also  the  two  succeeding  pieces. 

Clerk  Colvill  was  first  printed  in  Herd's  Scottish 
Songs,  (i.  217,)  and  was  inserted,  in  an  altered  shape, 
in  Lewis's  Tales  of  Wonder,  (No.  56.) 

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,  5 

Or  it  will  cost  ye  muckle  strife, 
Ride  never  by  the  wells  of  Slane, 
If  ye  wad  live  and  brook  your  life." 


CLERK    COLVILL,    OR   THE   MERMAID.      193 

"  Now  speak  nae  mair,  my  lusty  dame, 

Now  speak  nae  mair  of  that  to  me :          10 
Did  I  ne'er  see  a  fair  woman, 

But  I  wad  sin  with  her  fair  body  ?  " 

He's  ta'en  leave  o'  his  gay  lady, 
Nought  minding  what  his  lady  said, 

And  he's  rode  by  the  wells  of  Slane,  w 

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's  whiter  than  the  milk."  20 


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  gi'ed  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  Colvill, 
"  O  sairer,  sairer  akes  my  head  ;  " 
"  And  sairer,  sairer  ever  will," 

The  maiden  crys,  "  till  you  be  dead." 

27,  his  sark. 
VOL.  i.  13 


194      CLERK    COLVILL,    OR    THE    MERMAID. 

Out  then  he  drew  his  shining  blade, 

Thinking  to  stick  her  where  she  stood ;   35 

But  she  was  vanish'd  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." 


LADY  ISABEL  AND  THE  ELF-KNIGHT. 

From  Buchan's  Ballads  of  the  North  of  Scotland,  i.  22,  where 
it  is  entitled  The  Gowans  sae  gay,  from  the  burden. 


THE  hero  of  the  first  of  the  two  following  ballads 
would  seem  to  be  an  Elf,  that  of  the  second  a  Nix,  or 
Merman,  though  the  punishment  awarded  to  each  of 
them  in  the  catastrophe,  as  the  ballads  now  exist,  is  not 
consistent  with  their  supernatural  character.  It  is  pos 
sible  that  in  both  instances  two  independent  stories 
have  been  blended  :  but  it  is  curious  that  the  same 
intermixture  should  occur  in  Norse  and  German  also. 
See  Grundtvig's  preface  to  Noekkens  Svig,  ii.  p.  57. 
The  conclusion  in  all  these  cases  is  derived  from  a 
ballad  resembling  May  Colvin,  vol.  ii.  p.  272. 

We  have  had  the  Elf-Knight  introduced  under  the 
same  circumstances  at  page  128 ;  indeed,  the  first 
three  or  four  stanzas  are  common  to  both  pieces. 

FAIR  lady  Isabel  sits  in  her  bower  sewing, 

Aye  as  the  gowans  grow  gay  ; 
There  she  heard  an  elf-knight  blawing  his  horn, 

The  first  morning  in  May. 


196      LADY   ISABEL    AND    THE    ELF-KNIGHT. 

"  If  I  had  yon  horn  that  I  hear  blawing," 

Aye  as  the  gowans  grow  gay  ; 
"  And  yon  elf-knight  to  sleep  in  my  bosom," 

Ttie  first  morning  in  May. 

This  maiden  had  scarcely  these  words  spoken, 

Aye  as  the  gowans  grow  gay  ; 
Till  in  at  her  window  the  elf-knight  has  luppen, 

The  first  morning  in  May. 

"  Its  a  very  strange  matter,  fair  maiden,"  said  he, 

Aye  as  the  gowans  grow  gay, 
"  I  canna'  blaw  my  horn,  but  ye  call  on  me," 

The  first  morning  in  May. 

"  But  will  ye  go  to  yon  greenwood  side," 

Aye  as  the  gowans  grow  gay  ? 
"  If  ye  canna'  gang,  I  will  cause  you  to  ride," 

The  first  morning  in  May. 

He  leapt  on  a  horse,  and  she  on  another, 

Aye  as  the  gowans  grow  gay  ; 
And  they  rode  on  to  the  greenwood  together, 

The  first  morning  in  May. 

"  Light  down,  light  down,  lady  Isabel,"  said  he, 

Aye  as  the  gowans  grow  gay  ; 
"  We  are  come  to  the  place  where  ye  are  to  die," 

The  first  morning  in  May. 


LADY   ISABEL   AND    THE    ELF-KNIGHT.     197 

"  Ha'e  mercy,  ha'e  mercy,  kind  sir,  on  me," 

Aye  as  the  gowans  grow  gay  ;  so 

"  Till  ance  my  dear  father  and  mother  I  see," 
The  first  morning  in  May. 

"  Seven  king's-daughters  here  hae  I  slain," 

Aye  as  the  gowans  grow  gay  ; 
"  And  ye  shall  be  the  eight  o'  them,"  as 

The  first  morning  in  May. 

"  O  sit  down  a  while,  lay  your  head  on  my  knee," 

Aye  as  the  gowans  grow  gay  ; 
"  That  we  may  hae  some  rest  before  that  I  die," 

The  first  morning  in  May.  40 

She  stroak'd  him  sae  fast,  the  nearer  he  did  creep, 

Aye  as  the  gowans  grow  gay  ; 
Wi'  a  sma'  charm  she  lull'd  him  fast  asleep, 

The  first  morning  in  May. 

Wi'  his  ain  sword  belt  sae  fast  as  she  ban'  him,      « 

Aye  as  the  gowans  grow  gay  ; 
With  his  ain  dag-durk  sae  sair  as  she  dang  him, 

The  first  morning  in  May. 

"  If  seven  kings'  daughters  here  ye  ha'e  slain," 
Aye  as  the  gowans  grow  gay,  50 

"  Lye  ye  here,  a  husband  to  them  a'," 
The  first  morning  in  May. 


THE  WATER  O'  WEARIE'S  WELL. 


FROM  Buchan's  Ballads  of  the  North  of  Scotland, 
ii.  201.  Repeated  in  Scottish  Traditional  Versions  of 
Ancient  Ballads,  Percy  Society,  xvii.  63. 

The  three  ballads  which  follow,  diverse  as  they  may 
now  appear,  after  undergoing  successive  corruptions, 
were  primarily  of  the  same  type.  In  the  first  (which 
may  be  a  compound  of  two  ballads,  like  the  preceding, 
the  conclusion  being  taken  from  a  story  of  the  charac 
ter  of  May  Colvin  in  the  next  volume)  the  Merman  or 
Nix  may  be  easily  recognized :  in  the  second  he  is 
metamorphosed  into  the  Devil ;  and  in  the  third,  into 
a  ghost.  Full  details  upon  the  corresponding  Scan 
dinavian,  German,  and  Slavic  legends,  are  given  by 
Grundtvig,  in  the  preface  to  Noekkens  Svig,  Danmarks 
G.  Folkeviser,  ii.  57  :  translated  by  Jamieson,  i.  210, 
and  by  Monk  Lewis,  Tales  of  Wonder,  No.  11. 

THERE  came  a  bird  out  o'  a  bush, 

On  water  for  to  dine  ; 
And  sighing  sair,  says  the  king's  daughter, 

"  O  waes  this  heart  o'  mine  ! " 

He's  taen  a  harp  into  his  hand,  « 

He's  harped  them  all  asleep  ; 
Except  it  was  the  king's  daughter, 

Who  ae  wink  cou'dna  get. 


THE    WATER    o'    WEARIE'S    WELL.  199 

He's  luppen  on  his  berry-brown  steed, 

Taen  her  on  behind  himsell ;  10 

Then  baith  rade  down  to  that  water, 
That  they  ca'  Wearie's  well. 

"  Wide  in,  wide  in,  my  lady  fair, 

Nae  harm  shall  thee  befall ; 
Aft  times  hae  I  water'd  my  steed,  w 

Wi'  the  water  o'  Wearie's  well." 

The  first  step  that  she  stepped  in, 

She  stepped  to  the  knee  ; 
And  sighing  sair,  says  this  lady  fair, 

"  This  water's  nae  for  me."  20 

"  Wide  in,  wide  in,  my  lady  fair, 

Nae  harm  shall  thee  befall ; 
Aft  times  hae  I  water'd  my  steed, 

Wi'  the  water  o'  Wearie's  well." 

The  next  step  that  she  stepped  in,  25 

She  stepped  to  the  middle  ; 
And  sighing,  says,  this  lady  fair, 

"  I've  wat  my  gowden  girdle." 

"  Wide  in,  wide  in,  my  lady  fair, 

Nae  harm  shall  thee  befall ;  so 

Aft  times  hae  I  water'd  my  steed, 

Wi'  the  water  o'  Wearie's  well." 


200         THE    WATER    o'    WEARIE'S    WELL. - 

The  niest  step  that  she  stepped  in, 

She  stepped  to  the  chin  ; 
And  sighing,  says,  this  lady  fair,  35 

"  They  shou'd  gar  twa  loves  twine." 

"  Seven  king's-daughters  I've  drown'd  there, 

In  the  water  o'  Wearie's  well ; 
And  I'll  make  you  the  eight  o'  them, 

And  ring  the  common  bell."  40 

"  Sin'  I  am  standing  here,"  she  says, 

"  This  dowie  death  to  die  ; 
Ae  kiss  o'  your  comely  mouth 

I'm  sure  wou'd  comfort  me." 

He  louted  him  ower  his  saddle  bow,  45 

To  kiss  her  cheek  and  chin  ; 
She's  taen  him  in  her  arms  twa, 

And  thrown  him  headlang  in. 

"  Sin'  seven  king's  daughters  ye've  drown'd 
there, 

In  the  water  o'  Wearie's  well,  so 

I'll  make  you  bridegroom  to  them  a', 

An'  ring  the  bell  mysell." 

And  aye  she  warsled,  and  aye  she  swam, 

Till  she  swam  to  dry  land  ; 
Then  thanked  God  most  cheerfully,  & 

The  dangers  she'd  ower  came. 


THE  D^MON  LOVER. 

This  ballad  was  communicated  to  Sir  Walter  Scott, 
(Minstrelsy,  iii.  195,)  by  Mr.  William  Laidlaw,  who 
took  it  down  from  recitation.  A  fragment  of  the  same 
legend,  recovered  by  Motherwell,  is  given  in  the  Ap 
pendix  to  this  volume,  and  another  version,  in  which 
the  hero  is  not  a  daemon,  but  the  ghost  of  an  injured 
lover,  is  placed  directly  after  the  present. 

The  Devil  (Auld  Nick}  here  takes  the  place  of  the 
Merman  (Nix)  of  the  ancient  ballad.  See  p.  198,  and 
the  same  natural  substitution  noted  in  K.  u.  H. — 
Marchen,  3d  ed.  iii.  253. 

"  O  WHERE  have  you  been,  my  long,  long  love, 
This  long  seven  years  and  more  ?  " — 

"  O  I'm  come  to  seek  my  former  vows 
Ye  granted  me  before." — 

"  O  hold  your  tongue  of  your  former  vows,         s 

For  they  will  breed  sad  strife  ; 
O  hold  your  tongue  of  your  former  vows, 
For  I  am  become  a  wife." 

He  turn'd  him  right  and  round  about, 

And  the  tear  blinded  his  ee  ;  10 

u  I  wad  never  hae  trodden  on  Irish  ground, 
If  it  had  not  been  for  thee. 


202  THE   DAEMON    LOVER. 

"  I  might  hae  had  a  king's  daughter, 

Far,  far  beyond  the  sea  ; 
I  might  have  had  a  king's  daughter, 
Had  it  not  been  for  love  o'  thee." — 

"  If  ye  might  have  had  a  king's  daughter,- 

Yer  sell  ye  had  to  blame  ; 
Ye  might  have  taken  the  king's  daughter, 
For  ye  kend  that  I  was  nane." — 

"  0  faulse  are  the  vows  of  womankind, 

But  fair  is  their  faulse  bodie  ; 
I  never  wad  hae  trodden  on  Irish  ground, 
Had  it  not  been  for  love  o'  thee." — 

"  If  I  was  to  leave  my  husband  dear, 

And  my  two  babes  also, 
O  what  have  you  to  take  me  to, 
If  with  you  I  should  go  ?  " — 

"  I  hae  seven  ships  upon  the  sea, 

The  eighth  brought  me  to  land  ; 
"With  four-and-twenty  bold  mariners, 
And  music  on  every  hand." 

She  has  taken  up  her  two  little  babes, 
Kiss'd  them  baith  cheek  and  chin  ; 
"  0  fair  ye  weel,  my  ain  two  babes, 
For  I'll  never  see  you  again." 


THE    D^MON    LOVER.  203 

She  set  her  foot  upon  the  ship, 

No  mariners  could  she  behold ; 
But  the  sails  were  o'  the  taffetie, 

And  the  masts  o'  the  beaten  gold.  « 

She  had  not  saiTd  a  league,  a  league, 

A  league  but  barely  three, 
When  dismal  grew  his  countenance, 

And  drumlie  grew  his  ee. 

The  masts  that  were  like  the  beaten  gold,       45 

Bent  not  on  the  heaving  seas ; 
But  the  sails,  that  were  o'  the  taffetie, 

FilTd  not  in  the  east  land  breeze. — 

They  had  not  sailed  a  league,  a  league, 

A  league  but  barely  three,  so 

Until  she  espied  his  cloven  foot, 
And  she  wept  right  bitterlie. 

"  O  hold  your  tongue  of  your  weeping,"  says  he, 
"  Of  your  weeping  now  let  me  be ; 
I  will  show  you  how  the  lilies  grow  tx 

On  the  banks  of  Italy." — 

"  0  what  hills  are  yon,  yon  pleasant  hills. 
That  the  sun  shines  sweetly  on  ?  " — 
"  O  yon  are  the  hills  of  heaven,"  he  said, 

"  Where  you  will  never  win." —  eo 


204  THE   DAEMON   LOVER. 

"  O  whaten  a  mountain  is  yon,"  she  said, 
"  All  so  dreary  wi'  frost  and  snow  ?  " — 

"  O  yon  is  the  mountain  of  hell,"  he  cried, 
"  Where  you  and  I  will  go." 

And  aye  when  she  turn'd  her  round  about,      es 

Aye  taller  he  seem'd  for  to  be  ; 
Until  that  the  tops  o'  that  gallant  ship 

Nae  taller  were  than  he. 

The  clouds  grew  dark,  and  the  wind  grew  loud. 
And  the  levin  fill'd  her  ee  ;  70 

And  waesome  waiFd  the  snaw-white  sprites 
Upon  the  gurlie  sea. 

He  strack  the  tap-mast  wi'  his  hand, 

The  fore-mast  wi'  his  knee ; 
And  he  brake  that  gallant  ship  in  twain,         75 

And  sank  her  in  the  sea. 


JAMES  HERRIES. 

From  Buchan's  Ballads  of  the  North  of  Scotland,  (i.  214.) 
(See  the  preface  to  the  last  ballad  but  one.) 

"  O  ARE  ye  my  father,  or  are  ye  my  mother  ? 

Or  are  ye  my  brother  John  ? 
Or  are  ye  James  Herries,  my  first  true  love, 
Come  back  to  Scotland  again  ?  " 

"  I  am  not  your  father,  I  am  not  your  mother,    s 

Nor  am  I  your  brother  John  ; 
But  I'm  James  Herries,  your  first  true  love, 
Come  back  to  Scotland  again." 

"  Awa',  awa',  ye  former  lovers, 

Had  far  awa'  frae  me ;  10 

For  now  I  am  another  man's  wife, 
Ye'll  ne'er  see  joy  o'  me." 

"  Had  I  kent  that  ere  I  came  here, 

I  ne'er  had  come  to  thee  ; 
For  I  might  hae  married  the  king's  daughter,  is 
Sae  fain  she  wou'd  had  me. 


206  JAMES   HERRIES. 

"  I  despised  the  crown  o'  gold, 

The  yellow  silk  also  ; 
And  I  am  come  to  my  true  love, 
But  with  me  she'll  not  go." 

"  My  husband  he  is  a  carpenter, 

Makes  his  bread  on  dry  land, 
And  I  hae  born  him  a  young  son, — 
Wi'  you  I  will  not  gang." 

"  You  must  forsake  your  dear  husband, 

Your  little  young  son  also, 
Wi'  me  to  sail  the  raging  seas, 

Where  the  stormy  winds  do  blow." 

"  O  what  hae  you  to  keep  me  wi', 

If  I  should  with  you  go  ? 
If  I'd  forsake  my  dear  husband, 
My  little  young  son  also  ?  " 

"  See  ye  not  yon  seven  pretty  ships, 
The  eighth  brought  me  to  land ; 
With  merchandize  and  mariners, 
And  wealth  in  every  hand  ?  " 

She  turn'd  her  round  upon  the  shore, 
Her  love's  ships  to  behold  ; 

Their  topmasts  and  their  mainyards 
Were  cover'd  o'er  wi'  gold. 


JAMES    HERRIES.  207 

Then  she's  gane  to  her  little  young  son, 
And  kiss'd  him  cheek  and  chin ; 

Sae  has  she  to  her  sleeping  husband, 
And  dune  the  same  to  him. 

"  O  sleep  ye,  wake  ye,  my  husband,  & 

I  wish  ye  wake  in  time ; 
I  woudna  for  ten  thousand  pounds, 
This  night  ye  knew  my  mind." 

She's  drawn  the  slippers  on  her  feet, 

Were  cover'd  o'er  wi'  gold  ;  so 

Well  lined  within  wi'  velvet  fine, 
To  had  her  frae  the  cold. 

She  hadna  sailed  upon  the  sea 

A  league  but  barely  three, 
Till  she  minded  on  her  dear  husband,          « 

Her  little  young  son  tee. 

"  O  gin  I  were  at  land  again, 

At  land  where  I  wou'd  be, 
The  woman  ne'er  shou'd  bear  the  son, 

Shou'd  gar  me  sail  the  sea."  eo 

"  0  hold  your  tongue,  my  sprightly  flower, 

Let  a'  your  mourning  be  ; 
I'll  show  you  how  the  lilies  grow 
On  the  banks  o'  Italy." 


208  JAMES    HERRIES. 

She  hadna  sailed  on  the  sea 

A  day  but  barely  ane, 
Till  the  thoughts  o'  grief  came  in  her  mind, 

And  she  lang'd  for  to  be  hame. 

"  O  gentle  death,  come  cut  my  breath, 

I  may  be  dead  ere  morn  ; 
I  may  be  buried  in  Scottish  ground, 
Where  I  was  bred  and  born." 

"  0  hold  your  tongue,  my  lily  leesome  thing, 

Let  a'  your  mourning  be  ; 
But  for  a  while  we'll  stay  at  Rose  Isle, 
Then  see  a  far  countrie. 

"  Ye'se  ne'er  be  buried  in  Scottish  ground, 

Nor  land  ye's  nae  mair  see ; 
I  brought  you  away  to  punish  you, 
For  the  breaking  your  vows  to  me. 

"  I  said  ye  shou'd  see  the  lilies  grow 

On  the  banks  o'  Italy ; 
But  I'll  let  you  see  the  fishes  swim, 
In  the  bottom  o'  the  sea." 

He  reached  his  hand  to  the  topmast, 

Made  a'  the  sails  gae  down ; 
And  in  the  twinkling  o'  an  e'e, 

Baith  ship  and  crew  did  drown. 


JAMES    HERRIES.  209 

The  fatal  flight  o'  this  wretched  maid 

Did  reach  her  ain  countrie  ;  90 

Her  husband  then  distracted  ran, 
And  this  lament  made  he  :  — 

"  O  wae  be  to  the  ship,  the  ship, 

And  wae  be  to  the  sea, 
And  wae  be  to  the  mariners,  w 

Took  Jeanie  Douglas  frae  me ! 

*  O  bonny,  bonny  was  my  love, 

A  pleasure  to  behold ; 
The  very  hair  o'  my  love's  head 

Was  like  the  threads  o'  gold.  100 

"  O  bonny  was  her  cheek,  her  cheek, 

And  bonny  was  her  chin  ; 
And  bonny  was  the  bride  she  was, 
The  day  she  was  made  mine ! " 

***  The  following  stanzas  from  a  version  of  this  ballad 
printed  at  Philadelphia  (and  called  The  He/use  Carpenter] 
are  given  hi  Graham's  Illustrated  Magazine,  Sept.  1858. 

"  I  might  have  married  the  king's  daughter  dear; " 
"  You  might  have  married  her,"  cried  she, 

"  For  I  am  married  to  a  House  Carpenter, 
And  a  fine  young  man  is  he." 

"  Oh  dry  up  your  tears,  my  own  true  love, 

And  cease  your  weeping,"  cried  he; 
"  For  soon  you'll  see  your  own  happy  home, 

On  the  banks  of  old  Tennessee." 
VOL.  i.  14 


THE  KNIGHT'S  GHOST. 

From  Buchatfs  Ballads  of  the  North  of  Scotland,  (i.  227.) 

"  THERE  is  a  fashion  in  this  land, 

And  even  come  to  this  country, 
That  every  lady  should  meet  her  lord, 
When  he  is  newly  come  frae  sea : 

"  Some  wi'  hawks,  and  some  wi'  hounds, 

And  other  some  wi'  gay  rnonie ; 
But  I  will  gae  myself  alone, 

And  set  his  young  son  on  his  knee." 

She's  ta'en  her  young  son  in  her  arms, 

And  nimbly  walk'd  by  yon  sea  strand  ;         : 

And  there  she  spy'd  her  father's  ship, 
As  she  was  sailing  to  dry  land. 

"  Where  hae  ye  put  my  ain  gude  lord, 
This  day  he  stays  sae  far  frae  me  ?  " 

"  If  ye  be  wanting  your  ain  gude  lord, 
A  sight  o'  him  ye'll  never  see." 


THE  KNIGHT'S  GHOST.  211 

"  Was  he  brunt,  or  was  he  shot  ? 

Or  was  he  drowned  in  the  sea? 
Or  what's  become  o'  my  ain  gude  lord, 

That  he  will  ne'er  appear  to  me  ?  "  ao 

"  He  wasna  brunt,  nor  was  he  shot, 

Nor  was  he  drowned  in  the  sea ; 
He  was  slain  in  Dumfermling, 
A  fatal  day  to  you  and  me." 

"  Come  in,  come  in,  my  merry  young  men,         as 

Come  in  and  drink  the  wine  wi'  me ; 
And  a'  the  better  ye  shall  fare, 
For  this  gude  news  ye  tell  to  me." 

She's  brought  them  down  to  yon  cellar, 

She  brought  them  fifty  steps  and  three  ;  so 

She  birled  wi'  them  the  beer  and  wine, 
Till  they  were  as  drunk  as  drunk  could  be. 

Then  she  has  lock'd  her  cellar  door, 

For  there  were  fifty  steps  and  three ; 
"  Lie  there  wi'  my  sad  malison,  35 

For  this  bad  news  ye've  tauld  to  me." 

She's  ta'en  the  keys  intill  her  hand, 

And  threw  them  deep,  deep  in  the  sea  ; 
"  Lie  there  wi'  my  sad  malison, 

Till  my  gude  lord  return  to  me."  40 


212  THE  KNIGHT'S  GHOST. 

Then  she  sat  down  in  her  own  room, 
And  sorrow  lull'd  her  fast  asleep ; 

And  up  it  starts  her  own  gude  lord, 
And  even  at  that  lady's  feet. 

"  Take  here  the  keys,  Janet,"  he  says, 
"  That  ye  threw  deep,  deep  in  the  sea ; 
And  ye'll  relieve  my  merry  young  men, 
For  they've  nane  o'  the  swick  o'  me. 

"  They  shot  the  shot,  and  drew  the  stroke, 

And  wad  in  red  bluid  to  the  knee ; 
Nae  sailors  mair  for  their  lord  coud  do, 
Nor  my  young  men  they  did  for  me." 

"  I  hae  a  question  at  you  to  ask, 

Before  that  ye  depart  frae  me  ; 
You'll  tell  to  me  what  day  I'll  die, 
And  what  day  will  my  burial  be  ?  " 

"  I  hae  nae  mair  o'  God's  power 

Than  he  has  granted  unto  me ; 

But  come  to  heaven  when  ye  will, 

There  porter  to  you  I  will  be. 

"  But  ye'll  be  wed  to  a  finer  knight 

Than  ever  was  in  my  degree ; 
Unto  him  ye'll  hae  children  nine, 
And  six  o'  them  will  be  ladies  free. 


THE    WIFE    OF   USHER'S    WELL.  213 

"  The  other  three  will  be  bold  young  men,       es 

To  fight  for  king  and  countrie  ; 
The  ane  a  duke,  the  second  a  knight, 

And  third  a  laird  o'  lands  sae  free." 


THE  WIFE  OF  USHER'S  WELL. 

Minstrelsy  of  the  Scottish  Border,  iii.  258, 

That  the  repose  of  the  dead  is  disturbed  by  the  im 
moderate  grief  of  those  they  have  left  behind  them,  is 
a  belief  which  finds  frequent  expression  in  popular 
ballads.  Obstinate  sorrow  rouses  them  from  their 
grateful  slumber ;  every  tear  that  is  shed  for  them 
wets  their  shroud ;  they  can  get  no  rest,  and  are  com 
pelled  to  revisit  the  world  they  would  fain  forget,  to 
rebuke  and  forbid  the  mourning  that  destroys  their 
peace. 

"  Ice-cold  and  bloody,  a  lead-weight  of  sorrow,  falls  on  my 
breast  each  tear  that  you  shed," 

says  the  ghost  of  Helgi  in  the  Edda  to  his  lamenting 
wife  (Helgak.  Hundingsb.  II.)  The  same  idea  is  found 
in  the  German  ballad,  Der  Vorwirth,  Erk's  Liederhort, 
No.  46,  46  a,  and  in  various  tales,  as  Das  Todtenhemd- 
chen,  (K.  u.  H.  Mdrchen,  No.  109,  and  note),  etc.  In 
like  manner  Sir  Aage,  in  a  well-known  Danish  ballad 
(Grundtvig,  No.  90),  and  the  corresponding  Sorgens 
Magt,  Svenska  F.  V.,  No.  6. 


214  THE    WIFE    OF    USHER*S    WELL. 

"  Every  time  thou  weepest  for  me, 

Thy  heart  makest  sad, 
Then  all  within,  my  coffin  stands  full 
Of  clotted  blood." 

Rarely  is  the  silence  of  the  grave  broken  for  pur 
poses  of  consolation.  Yet  some  cases  there  are,  as  in 
a  Lithuanian  ballad  cited  by  Wackernagel,  Altd.  Blat 
ter,  i.  176,  and  a  Spanish  ballad  noticed  by  Talvj, 
Versuch,  p.  141.  The  present  ballad  seems  to  belong 
to  the  latter  class  rather  than  the  former,  but  it  is  so 
imperfect  that  its  true  character  cannot  be  determined. 

Chambers  maintains,  we  think  erroneously,  that  this 
ballad  is  a  fragment  of  The  Clerk's  Twa  Sons  o'  Ow- 
senford.  See  the  second  volume  of  this  collection, 
page  63. 


THERE  lived  a  wife  at  Usher's  Well, 
And  a  wealthy  wife  was  she, 

She  had  three  stout  and  stalwart  sons, 
And  sent  them  o'er  the  sea. 

They  hadna  been  a  week  from  her, 

A  week  but  barely  ane, 
When  word  came  to  the  carline  wife, 

That  her  three  sons  were  gane. 

They  hadna  been  a  week  from  her, 

A  week  but  barely  three, 
When  word  came  to  the  carline  wife, 

That  her  sons  she'd  never  see. 


THE   WIFE    OF   USHER'S    WELL.  215 

"I  wish  the  wind  may  never  cease, 

Nor  fishes  in  the  flood, 

Till  my  three  sons  come  hame  to  me,  is 

In  earthly  flesh  and  blood."  — 

It  fell  about  the  Martinmas, 

"When  nights  are  lang  and  mirk, 
The  carline  wife's  three  sons  came  hame, 

And  their  hats  were  o'  the  birk.  20 

It  neither  grew  in  syke  nor  ditch, 

Nor  yet  in  ony  sheugh  ; 
But  at  the  gates  o'  Paradise, 

That  birk  grew  fair  eneugh. 


"  Blow  up  the  fire,  my  maidens  ! 
Bring  water  from  the  weh1 ! 
For  a'  my  house  shall  feast  this  night, 
Since  my  three  sons  are  well."  — 

And  she  has  made  to  them  a  bed, 
She's  made  it  large  and  wide  ; 

And  she's  ta'en  her  mantle  her  about, 
Sat  down  at  the  bed-side. 


14.    Should  we  not  read,  for  fishes  here,  fashes  —  i.  e. 
troubles  ?  —  LOCKHART. 


216  THE    WIFE    OF    USHER'S    WELL. 


Up  then  crew  the  red  red  cock, 
And  up  and  crew  the  gray  ; 
The  eldest  to  the  youngest  said, 
"  'Tis  time  we  were  away."  — 

The  cock  he  hadna  craw'd  but  once, 

And  clapp'd  his  wings  at  a', 
Whan  the  youngest  to  the  eldest  said, 
"  Brother,  we  must  awa.  — 

"  The  cock  doth  craw,  the  day  doth  daw, 

The  channerin'  worm  doth  chide  ; 
Gin  we  be  mist  out  o'  our  place, 
A  sair  pain  we  maun  bide. 

"  Fare  ye  weel,  my  mother  dear  ! 
Fareweel  to  barn  and  byre  ! 
And  fare  ye  weel,  the  bonny  lass, 
That  kindles  my  mother's  fire." 


THE  SUFFOLK  MIRACLE : 

Or,  a  relation  of  a  young  man,  who,  a  month  after  his 
death,  appeared  to  his  sweetheart,  and  carried  her  on 
horseback  behind  him  for  forty  miles  in  two  hours, 
and  was  never  seen  after  but  in  his  grave. 

FROM  A  Collection  of  Old  Ballads,  i.  266.  In  Moore's 
Pictorial  Book  of  Ancient  Ballad  Poetry  (p.  463)  is  a 
copy  from  a  broadside  in  the  Roxburghe  collection. 

The  Suffolk  Miracle  has  an  external  resemblance  to 
several  noble  ballads,  but  the  likeness  does  not  extend 
below  the  surface.  It  is  possible  that  we  have  here 
the  residuum  of  an  old  poem,  from  which  all  the 
beauty  and  spirit  have  been  exhaled  in  the  course  of 
tradition ;  but  as  the  ballad  now  exists,  it  is  a  vulgar 
ghost-story,  without  any  motive.  Regarding  the  exter 
nal  form  alone,  we  may  place  by  its  side  the  Breton 
ballad,  Le  Frere  de  Lait,  in  Villemarque's  Chants  Pop- 
ulaires  de  la  Bretagne,  vol.  i.  No.  22  (translated  by 
Miss  Costello,  Quart.  Review,  vol.  68,  p.  75),  the  Ro 
maic  ballad  of  Constantine  and  Arete,  in  Fauriel's 
Chants  Populaires  de  la  Grece  Moderne,  p.  406  (see 
Appendix),  and  the  Servian  ballad  (related  to  the 
Romaic,  and  perhaps  derived  from  it),  Jelitza  and  her 
Brothers,  Talvj,  Volkslieder  der  Serben,  i.  160,  all  of 
them  among  the  most  beautiful  specimens  in  this  kind 
of  literature ;  and  also  Burger's  Lenore.  It  has  been 


218        THE  SUFFOLK  MIRACLE. 

once  or  twice  most  absurdly  suggested  that  Lenore 
owed  its  existence  to  this  Suffolk  Miracle.  The  differ 
ence,  indeed,  is  not  greater  than  between  a  "  Chronicle 
History  "  and  Macbeth ;  it  is  however  certain  that  Bur 
ger's  ballad  is  all  his  own,  except  the  hint  of  the 
ghostly  horseman  and  one  or  two  phrases,  which  he 
took  from  the  description  of  a  Low  German  ballad. 
The  editors  of  the  Wunderhorn  claim  to  give  this  bal 
lad,  vol.  ii.  p.  19.  An  equivalent  prose  tradition  is 
well  known  in  Germany.  Most  of  the  ballads  relat 
ing  to  the  return  of  departed  spirits  are  brought  to 
gether  in  an  excellent  article  by  Wackernagel  in  the 
Altdeutsche  Blatter,  i.  1 74. 

A  WONDER  stranger  ne'er  was  known 
Than  what  I  now  shall  treat  upon. 
In  Suffolk  there  did  lately  dwell 
A  farmer  rich  and  known  full  well- 
He  had  a  daughter  fair  and  bright,  fi 
On  whom  he  placed  his  chief  delight ; 
Her  beauty  was  beyond  compare, 
She  was  both  virtuous  and  fair. 

There  was  a  young  man  living  by, 

Who  was  so  charmed  with  her  eye,  10 

That  he  could  never  be  at  rest ; 

He  was  by  love  so  much  possest. 

He  made  address  to  her,  and  she 

Did  grant  him  love  immediately  ; 

But  when  her  father  came  to  hear,  « 

He  parted  her  and  her  poor  dear. 


THE  SUFFOLK  MIRACLE.        219 

Forty  miles  distant  was  she  sent, 

Unto  his  brother's,  with  intent 

That  she  should  there  so  long  remain, 

Till  she  had  changed  her  mind  again.  20 

Hereat  this  young  man  sadly  grieved, 
But  knew  not  how  to  be  relieved  ; 
He  sighed  and  sobbed  continually 
That  his  true  love  he  could  not  see. 

She  by  no  means  could  to  him  send,  25 

Who  was  her  heart's  espoused  friend  ; 
He  sighed,  he  grieved,  but  all  in  vain, 
For  she  confined  must  still  remain. 

He  mourned  so  much,  that  doctor's  art 
Could  give  no  ease  unto  his  heart,  » 

Who  was  so  strangely  terrified, 
That  in  short  time  for  love  he  died. 

She  that  from  him  was  sent  away 

Knew  nothing  of  his  dying  day, 

But  constant  still  she  did  remain,  35 

And  loved  the  dead,  although  in  vain. 

After  he  had  in  grave  been  laid 

A  month  or  more,  unto  this  maid 

He  came  in  middle  of  the  night, 

Who  joyed  to  see  her  heart's  delight.  « 


220  THE    SUFFOLK    MIRACLE. 

Her  father's  horse,  which  well  she  knew, 
Her  mother's  hood  and  safe-guard  too, 
He  brought  with  him  to  testify 
Her  parents  order  he  came  by. 

Which  when  her  uncle  understood, 
He  hoped  it  would  be  for  her  good, 
And  gave  consent  to  her  straightway, 
That  with  him  she  should  come  away. 

When  she  was  got  her  love  behind, 
They  passed  as  swift  as  any  wind, 
That  in  two  hours,  or  little  more, 
He  brought  her  to  her  father's  door. 

But  as  they  did  this  great  haste  make, 
He  did  complain  his  head  did  ake ; 
Her  handkerchief  she  then  took  out, 
And  tied  the  same  his  head  about. 

And  unto  him  she  thus  did  say : 
"  Thou  art  as  cold  as  any  clay ; 
When  we  come  home  a  fire  we'll  have ; " 
But  little  dreamed  he  went  to  grave. 

Soon  were  they  at  her  father's  door, 
And  after  she  ne'er  saw  him  more  ; 
"  I'll  set  the  horse  up,"  then  he  said, 
And  there  he  left  this  harmless  maid. 


THE  SUFFOLK  MIRACLE.         221 

She  knocked,  and  straight  a  man  he  cried,       ss 
«  Who's  there  ?  "    "  Tis  I,"  she  then  replied  ; 
Who  wondred  much  her  voice  to  hear, 
And  was  possessed  with  dread  and  fear. 

Her  father  he  did  tell,  and  then 
He  stared  like  an  affrighted  man :  ro 

Down  stairs  he  ran,  and  when  he  see  her, 
Cried  out,  "  My  child,  how  cam'st  thou  here  ?  " 

"  Pray,  sir,  did  you  not  send  for  me," 

By  such  a  messenger  ?  said  she  : 

Which  made  his  hair  stare  on  his  head,  re 

As  knowing  well  that  he  was  dead. 

"  Where  is  he  ?  "  then  to  her  he  said ; 

"  He's  in  the  stable,"  quoth  the  maid. 

"  Go  in,"  said  he,  "  and  go  to  bed ; 

"  I'll  see  the  horse  weU  littered."  ao 

He  stared  about,  and  there  could  he 
No  shape  of  any  mankind  see, 
But  found  his  horse  all  on  a  sweat ; 
Which  made  him  in  a  deadly  fret. 

His  daughter  he  said  nothing  to,  as 

Nor  none  else,  (though  full  well  they  knew 
That  he  was  dead  a  month  before,) 
For  fear  of  grieving  her  full  sore. 


222  THE    SUFFOLK   MIRACLE. 

Her  father  to  the  father  went 

Of  the  deceased,  with  full  intent  w 

To  tell  him  what  his  daughter  said ; 

So  both  came  back  unto  this  maid. 

They  ask'd  her,  and  she  still  did  say 
'Twas  he  that  then  brought  her  away ; 
Which  when  they  heard  they  were  amazed,     w 
And  on  each  other  strangely  gazed. 

A  handkerchief  she  said  she  tied 

About  his  head,  and  that  they  tried ; 

The  sexton  they  did  speak  unto, 

That  he  the  grave  would  then  undo.  100 

Affrighted  then  they  did  behold 

His  body  turning  into  mould, 

And  though  he  had  a  month  been  dead, 

This  handkerchief  was  about  his  head. 

This  thing  unto  her  then  they  told,  i(w 

And  the  whole  truth  they  did  unfold  ; 

She  was  thereat  so  terrified 

And  grieved,  that  she  quickly  died. 

Part  not  true  love,  you  rich  men,  then  ; 
But,  if  they  be  right  honest 'men  110 

Your  daughters  love,  give  them  their  way, 
For  force  oft  breeds  their  lives  decay. 


SIR  ROLAND. 

From  Motherwell's  Minstrelsy,  p.  124. 

THIS  fragment,  Motherwell  tells  us,  was  communi 
cated  to  him  by  an  ingenious  friend,  who  remembered 
having  heard  it  sung  in  his  youth.  He  does  not  vouch 
for  its  antiquity,  and  we  have  little  or  no  hesitation  in 
pronouncing  it  a  modern  composition. 


WHAN  he  cam  to  his  ain  luve's  bouir, 

He  tirled  at  the  pin, 
And  sae  ready  was  his  fair  fause  luve 

To  rise  and  let  him  in. 

"  O  welcome,  welcome,  Sir  Roland,"  she  says, 
"  Thrice  welcome  thou  art  to  me  ;  o 

For  this  night  thou   wilt  feast  in  my  secret 

bouir, 
And  to-morrow  we'll  wedded  be." 


224  SIR  ROLAND. 

"  This  night  is  hallow-eve,"  he  said, 

"  And  to-morrow  is  hallow-day  ;  10 

And  I  dreamed  a  drearie  dream  yestreen, 
That  has  made  my  heart  fu'  wae. 

"  I  dreamed  a  drearie  dream  yestreen, 
And  I  wish  it  may  cum  to  gude  : 

I   dreamed   that    ye    slew    my    best    grew 
hound,  15 

And  gied  me  his  lappered  blucle." 


"  Unbuckle  your  belt,  Sir  Roland,"  she  said, 

"  And  set  you  safely  down." 
"  O  your  chamber  is  very  dark,  fair  maid, 

And  the  night  is  wondrous  lown." 

"  Yes,  dark,  dark  is  my  secret  bowir, 
And  lown  the  midnight  may  be ; 

For  there  is  none  waking  in  a'  this  tower, 
But  thou,  my  true  love,  and  me." 


She  has  mounted  on  her  true  love's  steed, 
By  the  ae  light  o'  the  moon  ; 

She  has  whipped  him  and  spurred  him, 
And  roundly  she  rade  frae  the  toun. 


SIR    ROLAND.  225 

She  hadna  ridden  a  mile  o'  gate, 

Never  a  mile  but  ane,  ao 

Whan  she  was  aware  of  a  tall  young  man, 

Slow  riding  o'er  the  plain. 

She  turned  her  to  the  right  about, 

Then  to  the  left  turn'd  she  ; 
But  aye,  'tween  her  and  the  wan  moonlight,  as 

That  tall  knight  did  she  see. 

And  he  was  riding  burd  alane, 

On  a  horse  as  black  as  jet ; 
But  tho'  she  followed  him  fast  and  fell, 

No  nearer  could  she  get.  40 

"  O  stop !  O  stop  !  young  man,"  she  said, 

"  For  I  in  dule  am  dight ; 
O  stop,  and  win  a  fair  lady's  luve, 

If  you  be  a  leal  true  knight." 

But  nothing  did  the  tall  knight  say,  48 

And  nothing  did  he  blin  ; 
Still  slowly  rode  he  on  before, 

And  fast  she  rade  behind. 

She  whipped  her  steed,  she  spurred  her  steed, 
Till  his  breast  was  all  a  foam  ;  so 

But  nearer  unto  that  tall  young  knight, 

By  Our  Ladye,  she  could  not  come. 
VOL.  i.  15 


226  SIR    ROLAND. 

"  0  if  you  be  a  gay  young  knight, 

As  well  I  trow  you  be, 
Pull  tight  your  bridle  reins,  and  stay 

Till  I  come  up  to  thee." 

But  nothing  did  that  tall  knight  say, 

And  no  whit  did  he  blin, 
Until  he  reached  a  broad  river's  side, 

And  there  he  drew  his  rein. 

"  O  is  this  water  deep,"  he  said, 

"  As  it  is  wondrous  dun  ? 
Or  it  is  sic  as  a  saikless  maid 

And  a  leal  true  knight  may  swim  ?  " 

"  The  water  it  is  deep,"  she  said, 

"  As  it  is  wondrous  dun  ; 
But  it  is  sic  as  a  saikless  maid 

And  a  leal  true  knight  may  swim." 

The  knight  spurred  on  his  tall  black  steed, 
The  lady  spurred  on  her  brown  ; 

And  fast  they  rade  unto  the  flood, 
And  fast  they  baith  swam  down. 

u  The  water  weets  my  tae,"  she  said, 
"  The  water  weets  my  knee  ; 

And  hold  up  my  bridle  reins,  sir  knight, 
For  the  sake  of  Our  Ladye." 


SIR   ROLAND.  227 

"  If  I  would  help  thee  now,"  he  said, 

"  It  were  a  deadly  sin  ; 
For  I've  sworn  neir  to  trust  a  fair  may's  word, 

Till  the  water  weets  her  chin."  so 

"  O  the  water  weets  my  waist,"  she  said, 

"  Sae  does  it  weet  my  skin  ; 
And  my  aching  heart  rins  round  about, 

The  burn  maks  sic  a  din. 

"  The  water  is  waxing  deeper  still,  as 

Sae  does  it  wax  mair  wide  ; 
And  aye  the  farther  that  we  ride  on, 

Farther  off  is  the  other  side. 

"  O  help  me  now,  thou  false,  false  knight, 
Have  pity  on  my  youth  ;  90 

For  now  the  water  jawes  owre  my  head, 
And  it  gurgles  in  my  mouth." 

The  knight  turned  right  and  round  about, 

All  in  the  middle  stream, 
And  he  stretched  out  his  head  to  that  lady,     as 

But  loudly  she  did  scream. 

"  0  this  is  hallow-morn,"  he  said, 

"  And  it  is  your  bridal  day  ; 
But  sad  would  be  that  gay  wedding, 

If  bridegroom  and  bride  were  away.         100 


228  SIR    ROLAND. 

'•  And  ride  on,  ride  on,  proud  Margaret ! 

Till  the  water  comes  o'er  your  bree  ; 
For  the  bride  maun  ride  deep,  and  deeper  yet, 

Wha  rides  this  ford  wi'  me. 

"  Turn  round,  turn  round,  proud  Margaret ! 

Turn  ye  round,  and  look  on  me  ;  ioe 

Thou  hast  killed  a  true  knight  under  trust, 

And  his  ghost  now  links  on  with  thee." 


APPENDIX. 


FRAGMENT  OF  THE  BALLAD  OF  KING  AR 
THUR  AND  THE  KING  OF  CORNWALL. 


PRINTED  from  the  celebrated  Percy  MS.  in  Mad- 
den's  Syr  Gawayne,  p.  275.  The  editor  has  added  the 
following  note. 

"  It  has  no  title,  and  the  first  line  has  been  cut  away 
by  the  ignorant  binder  to  whom  the  volume  was  in 
trusted,  but  both  are  supplied  from  the  notice  given 
of  the  ballad  in  the  Dissertation  prefixed  to  vol.  iii.  of 
the  Reliques,  p.  xxxvii.  Dr.  Percy  has  added  in  the 
margin  of  the  MS.  these  words :  "  To  the  best  of  my 
remembrance,  this  was  the  first  line,  before  the  binder 
cut  it."  The  poem  is  very  imperfect,  owing  to  the 
leaves  having  been  half  torn  away  to  light  fires  (!)  as 
the  Bishop  tells  us,  but  I  am  bound  to  add,  previous 
to  its  coming  into  his  possession.  The  story  is  so  sin 
gular,  that  it  is  to  be  hoped  an  earlier  and  complete 
copy  of  it  may  yet  be  recovered.  On  no  account  per 
haps  is  it  more  remarkable,  than  the  fact  of  its  close 
imitation  of  the  famous  gabs  made  by  Charlemagne 
and  his  companions  at  the  court  of  King  Hugon,  which 
are  first  met  with  in  a  romance  of  the  twelfth  century, 
published  by  M.  Michel  from  a  MS.  in  the  British  Mu 
seum,  12mo.,  London,  1836,  and  transferred  at  a  later 
period  to  the  prose  romance  of  Galien  Rethore,  printed 
by  Verard,  fol.,  1500,  and  often  afterwards.  In  the 


232      FRAGMENT  OF  THE  BALLAD  OF  KING 

absence  of  other  evidence,  it  is  to  be  presumed  that 
the  author  of  the  ballad  borrowed  from  the  printed 
work,  substituting  Arthur  for  Charlemagne,  Gawayne 
for  Oliver,  Tristram  for  Roland,  etc.,  and  embellishing 
his  story  by  converting  King  Hugon's  spy  into  a  "  lodly 
feend,"  by  whose  agency  the  gabs  are  accomplished. 
It  is  further  worthy  of  notice,  that  the  writer  seems  to 
regard  Arthur  as  the  sovereign  of  Little  Britain,  and 
alludes  to  an  intrigue  between  the  King  of  Cornwall 
and  Queen  Guenever,  which  is  nowhere,  as  far  as 
I  recollect,  hinted  at  in  the  romances  of  the  Round 
Table." 


<(  COME  here  my  cozen,  Gawain,  so  gay ; 

My  sisters  sonne  be  yee ; 

For  you  shall  see  one  of  the  fairest  Round  Tables, 

That  ever  you  see  with  your  eye." 

Then  bespake  [the]  Lady  Queen  Guenever,  5 

And  these  were  the  words  said  shee : 
"  I  know  where  a  Round  Table  is,  thou  noble  king, 
Is  worth  thy  Round  Table  and  other  such  three. 

"  The  trestle  that  stands  under  this  Round  Table," 


"  Lowe  downe  to  the  mould,  10 

It  is  worth  thy  Round  Table,  thou  worthy  king, 
Thy  halls,  and  all  thy  gold. 

"  The  place  where  this  Round  Table  stands  in, 
It  is  worth  thy  castle,  thy  gold,  thy  fee ; 
And  all  good  Litle  Britaine," —  is 

"  Where  may  that  table  be,  lady  V  "  quoth  hee, 


ARTHUR  AND  THE  KING  OF  CORNWALL.    233 

"  Or  where  may  all  that  goodly  building  be  ?  " 
"You  shall  it  seeke,"  shee  sayd,  " till  you  it  find, 
For  you  shall  never  gett  more  of  me." 

Then  bespake  him  noble  King  Arthur,  20 

These  were  the  words  said  hee ; 
"  He  make  mine  avow  to  God, 
And  alsoe  to  the  Trinity, 

"  He  never  sleepe  one  night,  there  as  I  doe  another, 
Till  that  Round  Table  I  see  ;  25 

Sir  Marramiles  and  Sir  Tristeram, 
Fellowes  that  ye  shall  bee. 

"  Weele  be  clad  in  palmers  weede, 

Five  palmers  we  will  bee ; 

There  is  noe  outlandish  man  will  us  abide,  so 

Nor  will  us  come  nye." 

Then  they  rived  east  and  they  rived  west, 

In  many  a  strange  country. 

Then  they  travelled  a  litle  further, 

They  saw  a  battle  new  sett ;  86 

"  Now,  by  my  faith,"  saies  noble  King  Arthur, 

[Half  a  page  is  here  torn  away.~\ 

But  when  he  came  that  castle  to, 

And  to  the  palace  gate, 

Soe  ready  was  ther  a  proud  porter, 

And  met  him  soone  therat.  « 


MS.  32,  the  rived  west.  34,  tranckled. 


234      FRAGMENT  OF  THE  BALLAD  OF  KING 

Shooes  of  gold  the  porter  had  on, 
And  all  his  other  rayment  was  unto  the  same ; 
"  Now,  by  my  faith,"  saies  noble  Bang  Arthur, 
"  Yonder  is  a  minion  swaine." 

Then  bespake  noble  King  Arthur,  « 

These  were  the  words  says  hee : 
"  Come  hither,  thou  proud  porter, 
I  pray  thee  come  hither  to  me. 

"  I  have  two  poor  rings  of  my  finger, 
The  better  of  them  He  give  to  thee ;  so 

[To]  tell  who  may  be  lord  of  this  castle,"  he  saies, 
"  Or  who  is  lord  in  this  cuntry  ?  " 

"  Cornewall  King,"  the  porter  sayes, 

"  There  is  none  soe  rich  as  hee  ; 

Neither  in  Christendome,  nor  yet  in  heathennest,  55 

None  hath  soe  much  gold  as  he." 

And  then  bespake  him  noble  King  Arthur, 

These  were  the  words  sayes  hee  : 

"  I  have  two  poore  rings  of  my  finger, 

The  better  of  them  He  give  thee,  GO 

If  thou  wilt  greete  him  well,  Cornewall  King, 

And  greete  him  well  from  me. 

"  Pray  him  for  one  nights  lodging,  and  two  meales 

meate, 

For  his  love  that  dyed  uppon  a  tree ; 
A  bue  ghesting,  and  two  meales  meate,  as 

For  his  love  that  dyed  uppon  a  tree. 

MS.  50,  They  better.  65,  bue,  sic. 


ARTHUR  AND  THE  KING  OF  CORNWALL.   235 

"  A  bue  ghesting,  and  two  meales  meate, 

For  his  love  that  was  of  virgin  borne, 

And  in  the  morning  that  we  may  scape  away, 

Either  without  scath  or  scorne."  70 

Then  forth  is  gone  this  proud  porter, 
As  fast  as  he  cold  hye  ; 
And  when  he  came  befor  Cornewall  King, 
He  kneeled  downe  on  his  knee. 

Sayes,  "  I  have  beene  porter,  man,  at  thy  gate,      ra 
[Half  a  page  is  wanting.'] 

our  Lady  was  borne, 

Then  thought  Cornewall  King  these  palmers  had 
beene  in  Britt. 

Then  bespake  him  Cornewall  King, 

These  were  the  words  he  said  there  : 

"  Did  you  ever  know  a  comely  King,  ao 

His  name  was  King  Arthur  ?  " 

And  then  bespake  him  noble  King  Arthur, 

These  were  the  words  said  hee  : 

"  I  doe  not  know  that  comly  King, 

But  once  my  selfe  I  did  him  see."  as 

Then  bespake  Cornwall  King  againe, 

These  were  the  words  said  he. 


MS.  67,  bue,  sic;  of  two.  71,  his  gone. 


236      FRAGMENT  OF  THE  BALLAD  OF  KING 

Sayes,  "  Seven  yeere  I  was  clad  and  fed, 

In  Litle  Brittaine,  in  a  bower  ; 

I  had  a  daughter  by  King  Arthurs  wife,  w 

It  now  is  called  my  flower ; 

For  King  Arthur,  that  kindly  cockward, 

Hath  none  such  in  his  bower. 

"  For  I  durst  sweare,  and  save  my  othe, 

That  same  lady  soe  bright,  95 

That  a  man  that  were  laid  on  his  death-bed 

Wold  open  his  eyes  on  her  to  have  sight." 

"  Now,  by  my  faith,"  sayes  noble  King  Arthur, 

"  And  thats  a  full  faire  wight  1 " 

And  then  bespake  Cornewall  [King]  againe,         100 

And  these  were  the  words  he  said  : 

"  Come  hither,  five  or  three  of  my  knights, 

And  feitch  me  downe  my  steed ; 

King  Arthur,  that  foule  cockeward, 

Hath  none  such,  if  he  had  need.  ws 

"  For  I  can  ryde  him  as  far  on  a  day, 
As  King  Arthur  can  doe  any  of  his  on  three. 
And  is  it  not  a  pleasure  for  a  King, 
When  he  shall  ryde  forth  on  his  journey  ? 

"  For  the  eyes  that  beene  in  his  head,  no 

They  glister  as  doth  the  gleed ; " — 

"  Now,  by  my  faith,"  says  noble  Bang  Arthur, 

[Half  a  paae  is  wanting, .] 
101,  said  he.  Ill,  The. 


ARTHUR  AND  THE  KING  OF  CORNWALL.    237 


No  body  

But  one  thats  learned  to  speake. 

Then  King  Arthur  to  his  bed  was  brought,  iis 

A  greeived  man  was  hee  ; 

And  soe  were  all  his  fellowes  with  himj 

From  him  they  thought  never  to  flee. 

Then  take  they  did  that  lodly  boome, 

And  under  thrubchandler  closed  was  hee ;  uo 

And  he  was  set  by  King  Arthurs  bed-side, 

To  heere  theire  talke,  and  theire  com'nye  ; 

That  he  might  come  forth,  and  make  proclamation, 
Long  before  it  was  day ; 

It  was  more  for  King  Cornwalls  pleasure,  125 

Then  it  was  for  King  Arthurs  pay. 

And  when  King  Arthur  on  his  bed  was  laid, 

These  were  the  words  said  hee  : 

"  He  make  mine  avow  to  God, 

And  alsoe  to  the  Trinity,  iao 

That  Ee  be  the  bane  of  Cornwall  Kinge 

Litle  Brittaine  or  ever  I  see  ! " 

"  It  is  an  unadvised  vow,"  saies  Gawaine  the  gay, 

"  As  ever  king  hard  make  I ; 

But  wee  that  beene  five  Christian  men,  iss 

Of  the  christen  faith  are  wee  ; 

And  we  shall  fight  against  anoynted  King, 

And  all  his  armorie." 


MS.  118,  the.        119,  goomeV        120,  thrubchadler. 


238   FRAGMENT  OF  THE  BALLAD  OF  KING 

And  then  he  spake  him  noble  Arthur, 
And  these  were  the  words  said  he :  no 

"  Why,  if  thou  be  afraid,  Sir  Gawaine  the  gay, 
Goe  home,  and  drinke  wine  in  thine  owne  country." 


THE    THIRD    PARTE. 


AND  then  bespake  Sir  Gawaine  the  gay, 

And  these  were  the  words  said  hee  : 

"  Nay,  seeing  you  have  made  such  a  hearty  vow,  i« 

Heere  another  vow  make  will  I. 

"  He  make  mine  avow  to  God, 

And  alsoe  to  the  Trinity, 

That  I  will  have  yonder  faire  lady 

To  Litle  Brittaine  with  inee.  i» 

"  He  hose  her  hourly  to  my  hart, 
And  with  her  He  worke  my  will ; 

[Half  a  page  is  wanting.] 

These  were  the  words  sayd  hee  : 

"  Befor  I  wold  wrestle  with  yonder  feend, 

It  is  better  be  drowned  in  the  sea."  155 

And  then  bespake  Sir  Bredbeddle, 
And  these  were  the  words  said  he  : 
"  Why,  I  will  wrestle  with  yon  lodly  feend, 
God !  my  governor  thou  shalt  bee." 

151,  hurt. 


ARTHUR  AND  THE  KING  OF  CORNWALL.   239 

Then  bespake  him  noble  Arthur,  MO 

And  these  were  the  words  said  he  : 
"  What  weapons  wilt  thou  have,  thou  gentle  knight  ? 
I  pray  thee  tell  to  me." 

He  sayes,  "  Collen  brand  He  have  in  my  hand, 
And  a  Millaine  knife  fast  be  my  knee  ;  ifis 

And  a  Danish  axe  fast  in  my  hands, 
That  a  sure  weapon  I  thinke  wilbe." 

Then  with  his  Collen  brand,  that  he  had  in  his  hand, 
The  bunge  of  the  trubchandler  he  burst  in  three. 
What  that  start  out  a  lodly  feend,  170 

With  seven  heads,  and  one  body. 

The  fyer  towards  the  element  flew, 
Out  of  his  mouth,  where  was  great  plentie ; 
The  knight  stoode  in  the  middle,  and  fought, 
That  it  was  great  joy  to  see.  irs 

Till  his  Collaine  brand  brake  in  his  hand, 
And  his  Millaine  knife  burst  on  his  knee  ; 
And  then  the  Danish  axe  burst  in  his  hand  first, 
That  a  sur  weapon  he  thought  shold  be. 

But  now  is  the  knight  left  without  any  weapone,  iao 

And  alacke  !  it  was  the  more  pitty ; 

But  a  surer  weapon  then  had  he  one, 

Had  never  Lord  in  Christentye : 

And  all  was  but  one  litle  booke, 

He  found  it  by  the  side  of  the  sea.  iw 


MS.  161,  they  words. 


240   FRAGMENT  OF  THE  BALLAD  OF  KING 

He  found  it  at  the  sea-side, 
Wrucked  upp  in  a  floode  ; 
Our  Lord  had  written  it  with  his  hands, 
And  sealed  it  with  his  bloode. 

[Half  a  page  is  wanting."] 

"  That  thou  doe 190 

But  ly  still  in  that  wall  of  stone  ; 

Till  I  have  beene  with  noble  King  Arthur, 

And  told  him  what  I  have  done." 

And  when  he  came  to  the  King's  chamber, 
He  cold  of  his  curtesie  iw 

Saye,  "  Sleep  you,  wake  you,  noble  King  Arthur  ? 
And  ever  Jesus  watch  yee  !  " 

"  Nay,  I  ana  not  sleeping,  I  am  waking," 

These  were  the  words  said  hee  : 

"  For  thee  I  have  car'd ;  how  hast  thou  fared  ?      200 

O  gentle  knight,  let  me  see." 

The  knight  wrought  the  King  his  booke, 

Bad  him  behold,  reede,  and  see ; 

And   ever  he  found  it  on  the   backside   of  the 

leafe, 
As  noble  Arthur  wold  wish  it  to  be.  205 

And  then  bespake  him  King  Arthur, 
"  Alas  !  thou  gentle  knight,  how  may  this  be, 
That  I  might  see  him  in  the  same  licknesse, 
That  he  stood  unto  thee  ?  " 


ARTHUR  AND  THE  KING  OF  CORNWALL.    241 

And  then  bespake  him  the  Greene  Knight,  210 

These  were  the  words  said  hee  : 

"  If  youle  stand  stifly  in  the  battell  stronge, 

For  I  have  won  all  the  victory." 

Then  bespake  him  the  King  againe, 
And  these  were  the  words  said  hee :  215 

"  If  we  stand  not  stifly  in  this  battell  strong, 
Wee  are  worthy  to  be  hanged  all  on  a  tree." 

Then  bespake  him  the  Greene  Knight, 

These  were  the  words  said  hee  : 

Saies,  "  I  doe  coniure  thee,  thou  fowle  feend,        220 

In  the  same  licknesse  thou  stood  unto  me." 

With  that  start  out  a  lodly  feend, 

With  seven  heads,  and  one  body  ; 

The  fier  towarde  the  element  flaugh, 

Out  of  his  mouth,  where  was  great  plenty.  235 


The  knight  stood  in  the  middle 

\Half  a  page  is  wanting."] 

the  space  of  an  houre, 

I  know  not  what  they  did. 

And  then  bespake  him  the  Greene  Knight, 

And  these  were  the  words  said  he  :  2» 

Saith,  "  I  coniure  thee,  thou  fowle  feend, 

That  thou  feitch  downe  the  steed  that  we  see." 

And  then  forth  is  gone  Burlow-beanie, 
As  fast  as  he  cold  hie ; 

210.    The  Greene  Knight  is  Sir  Bredbeddle. 
VOL.  i.  16 


242      FRAGMENT  OF  THE  '^BALLAD  OF  KING 

And  feitch  he  did  that  faire  steed,  2*5 

And  came  againe  by  and  by. 

Then  bespake  him  Sir  Marramile, 

And  these  were  the  words  said  hee : 

"  Riding  of  this  steed,  brother  Bredbeddle, 

The  mastery  belongs  to  me."  210 

Marramile  s  tooke  the  steed  to  his  hand, 
To  ryd  him  he  was  full  bold ; 
He  cold  noe  more  make  him  goe, 
Then  a  child  of  three  yeere  old. 

He  laid  uppon  him  with  heele  and  hand,  245 

With  yard  that  was  soe  fell ; 
"  Helpe  !  brother  Bredbeddle,"  says  Marramile, 
"For  I  thinke  he  be  the  devill  of  hell. 

"  Helpe  !  brother  Bredbeddle,"  says  Marramile, 
"  Helpe !  for  Christs  pittye ;  250 

For  without  thy  help,  brother  Bredbeddle, 
He  will  never  be  rydden  for  me." 

Then  bespake  him  Sir  Bredbeddle, 

These  were  the  words  said  he : 

"  I  coniure  thee,  thou  Burlow-beane,  255 

Thou   tell  me   how  this   steed  was   riddin    m  his 

country." 

He  saith,  "  There  is  a  gold  wand, 
Stands  in  King  Cornwalls  study  windowe. 


MS.  245,  saved. 

MS.  252,  p'  me,  i.  e.  pro  or  per. 

MS.  255,  Burlow-leane. 


ARTHUR  AND  THE  KING  OF  CORNWALL.    243 

"  Let  him  take  that  wand  in  that  window, 

And  strike  three  strokes  on  that  steed ;  aeo 

And  then  he  will  spring  forth  of  his  hand, 

As  sparke  doth  out  of  gleede." 

Then  bespake  him  the  Greene  Knight, 

\Half  a  page  is  wanting.] 
A  lowd  blast 

And  then  bespake  Sir  Bredbeddle,  26s 

To  the  feend  these  words  said  hee  : 

Says,  "  I  coniure  thee,  thou  Burlow-beanie, 

The  powder-box  thou  feitch  me." 

Then  forth  is  gone  Burlow-beanie, 

As  fast  as  he  cold  hie  ;  aro 

And  feich  he  did  the  powder-box, 

And  came  againe  by  and  by. 

Then  Sir  Tristeram  tooke  powder  forth  of  that  box, 
And  blent  it  with  warme  sweet  milke ; 
And  there  put  it  unto  the  home,  275 

And  swilled  it  about  in  that  ilke. 

Then  he  tooke  the  home  in  his  hand, 

And  a  lowd  blast  he  blew ; 

He  rent  the  home  up  to  the  midst, 

All  his  fellowes  this  they  knew.  SHO 


MS.  280,  the  knew. 


244     ARTHUR  AND  THE  KING  OF  CORNWALL. 

Then  bespake  him  the  Greene  Knight, 
These  were  the  words  said  he: 
Saies.  "  I  coniure  thee,  thou  Burlow-beanie, 
That  thou  feitch  me  the  sword  that  I  see." 

Then  forth  is  gone  Burlow-beanie,  285 

As  fast  as  he  cold  hie  ; 

And  feitch  he  did  that  faire  sword, 

And  came  againe  by  and  by. 

Then  bespake  him  Sir  Bredbeddle, 

To  the  king  these  words  said  he  :  290 

"  Take  this  sword  in  thy  hand,  thou  noble  King, 

For  the  vowes  sake  that  thou  made  He  give  it  thee ; 

And  goe  strike  off  King  Cornewalls  head, 

In  bed  where  he  doth  lye." 

Then  forth  is  gone  noble  King  Arthur,  205 

As  fast  as  he  cold  hye  ; 
And  strucken  he  hath  King  Cornwalls  head, 
And  came  againe  by  and  by. 

He  put  the  head  upon  a  swords  point, 

[  The  poem  terminates  here  abruptly.'] 
294,  were. 


FRAGMENT     OF    CHILD     ROWLAND    AND 
BURD  ELLEN. 

It  is  not  impossible  that  this  ballad  should  be  the  one 
quoted  by  Edgar  in  King  Lear,  (Act  iii.  sc.  4  :) 
"  Child  Rowland  to  the  dark  tower  came." 

We  have  extracted  the  fragment  given  by  Jamieson, 
with  the  breaks  in  the  story  filled  out,  from  Illustrations 
of  Northern  Antiquities,  p.  397  ;  and  we  have  added  his 
translation  of  the  Danish  ballad  of  Rosmer  Hafmand, 
which  exhibits  a  striking  similarity  to  Child  Rowland, 
from  Popular  Ballads  and  Songs,  ii.  202.  The  tale  of 
the  Red  Etin,  as  given  in  Chambers's  Pop.  Rhymes  of 
Scotland,  p.  56,  has  much  resemblance  to  Jamieson's 
story,  and,  like  it,  is  interspersed  with  verse. 

The  occurrence  of  the  name  Merlin  is  by  no  means 
a  sufficient  ground  for  connecting  this  tale,  as  Jamie- 
son  would  do,  with  the  cycle  of  King  Arthur.  For 
Merlin,  as  Grundtvig  has  remarked  (Folkeviser,  ii.  79), 
did  not  originally  belong  to  that  cycle,  and  again,  his 
name  seems  to  have  been  given  in  Scotland  to  any 
sort  of  wizard  or  prophet. 


["  KING  Arthur's  sons  o'  merry  Carlisle] 

Were  playing  at  the  ba' ; 
And  there  was  their  sister  Burd  Ellen, 
I*  the  mids  amang  them  a'. 

44  Child  Rowland  kick'd  it  wi'  his  foot, 

And  keppit  it  wi'  his  knee  ; 
And  ay,  as  he  play'd  out  o'er  them  a', 
O'er  the  kirk  he  gar'd  it  flee. 


246  FRAGMENT    OF    CHILD    ROWLAND 

"  Burd  Ellen  round  about  the  isle 

To  seek  the  ba'  is  gane ;  10 

But  they  bade  lang  and  ay  langer, 
And  she  camena  back  again. 

"  They  sought  her  east,  they  sought  her  west, 

They  sought  her  up  and  down  ; 
And  wae  were  the  hearts  [in  merry  Carlisle,]    is 
For  she  was  nae  gait  found  ! " 

At  last  her  eldest  brother  went  to  the  Warluck 
Merlin,  (Myrddin  Wyldt,)  and  asked  if  he  knew 
where  his  sister,  the  fair  Burd  Ellen,  was.  "  The 
fair  Burd  Ellen,"  said  the  Warluck  Merlin,  "  is  carried 
away  by  the  fairies,  and  is  now  in  the  castle  of  the 
king  of  Elfland ;  and  it  were  too  bold  an  undertaking 
for  the  stoutest  knight  in  Christendom  to  bring  her 
back."  "  Is  it  possible  to  bring  her  back  ?  "  said  her 
brother,  "  and  I  will  do  it,  or  perish  in  the  attempt." 
"  Possible  indeed  it  is,"  said  the  Warluck  Merlin ; 
"  but  woe  to  the  man  or  mother's  son  who  attempts 
it,  if  he  is  not  well  instructed  beforehand  of  what  he 
is  to  do." 

Influenced  no  less  by  the  glory  of  such  an  enter 
prise,  than  by  the  desire  of  rescuing  his  sister,  the 
brother  of  the  fair  Burd  Ellen  resolved  to  undertake 
the  adventure ;  and  after  proper  instructions  from 
Merlin,  (which  he  failed  in  observing,)  he  set  out  on 
his  perilous  expedition. 

"  But  they  bade  lang  and  ay  langer, 

Wi'  dout  and  mickle  maen ; 
And  wae  were  the  hearts  [in  merry  Carlisle,] 
For  he  camena  back  again."  20 


AND    BURD    ELLEN.  247 

The  second  brother  in  like  manner  set  out;  but 
failed  in  observing  the  instructions  of  the  Warluck 
Merlin  ;  and 

"  They  bade  lang  and  ay  langer, 
Wi'  mickle  dout  and  rnaen  ; 
And  wae  were  the  hearts  [in  merry  Carlisle,] 
For  he  camena  back  again." 

Child  Rowland,  the  youngest  brother  of  the  fair 
Burd  Ellen,  then  resolved  to  go  ;  but  was  strenuously 
opposed  by  the  good  queen,  [Gwenevra,]  who  was 
afraid  of  losing  all  her  children. 

At  last  the  good  queen  [Gwenevra]  gave  him  her 
consent  and  her  blessing ;  he  girt  on  (in  great  form, 
and  with  all  due  solemnity  of  sacerdotal  consecration,) 
his  father's  good  claymore,  [Excalibar,]  that  never 
struck  in  vain,  and  repaired  to  the  cave  of  the  War- 
luck  Merlin.  The  Warluck  Merlin  gave  him  all 
necessary  instructions  for  his  journey  and  conduct, 
the  most  important  of  which  were,  that  he  should  kill 
every  person  he  met  with  after  entering  the  land  of 
Fairy,  and  should  neither  eat  nor  drink  of  what  was 
offered  him  in  that  country,  whatever  his  hunger  or 
thirst  might  be  ;  for  if  he  tasted  or  touched  in  Elfland, 
he  must  remain  in  the  power  of  the  Elves,  and  never 
see  middle  eard  again. 

So  Child  Rowland  set  out  on  his  journey,  and  trav 
elled  "  on  and  ay  farther  on,"  till  he  came  to  where 
(as  he  had  been  forewarned  by  the  Warluck  Merlin,) 
he  found  the  king  of  Elfland's  horse-herd  feeding  his 
horses. 

"  Canst  thou  tell  me,"  said  Child  Rowland  to  the 


248  FRAGMENT    OF    CHILD    ROWLAND 

horse-herd,  "  where  the  king  of  Elfland's  castle  is  ?  "— 
"  I  cannot  tell  thee,"  said  the  horse-herd ;  "  but  go  on 
a  little  farther,  and  thou  wilt  come  to  the  cow-herd, 
and  he,  perhaps,  may  tell  thee."  So  Child  Rowland 
drew  the  good  claymore,  [Excalibar,]  that  never  struck 
in  vain,  and  hewed  off  the  head  of  the  horse-herd. 
Child  Rowland  then  went  on  a  little  farther,  till  he 
came  to  the  king  of  Elfland's  cow-herd,  who  was  feed 
ing  his  cows.  "  Canst  thou  tell  me,"  said  Child  Row 
land  to  the  cow-herd,  "  where  the  king  of  Elfland's 
castle  is  ? "  —  "I  'cannot  tell  thee,"  said  the  cow-herd ; 
"  but  go  on  a  little  farther,  and  thou  wilt  come  to  the 
sheep-herd,  and  he  perhaps  may  tell  thee."  So  Child 
Rowland  drew  the  good  claymore,  [Excalibar,]  that 
never  struck  in  vain,  and  hewed  off  the  head  of  the 
cow-herd.  He  then  went  on  a  little  farther,  till  he 
came  to  the  sheep-herd.  *  *  *  *  \The  sheep- 
herd,  goat-herd,  and  swine-herd  are  all,  each  in  his  turn, 
served  in  the  same  manner  ;  and  lastly  he  is  referred  to 
the  hen-wife.] 

"  Go  on  yet  a  little  farther,"  said  the  hen-wife,  till 
thou  come  to  a  round  green  hill  surrounded  with  rings 
(terraces")  from  the  bottom  to  the  top;  go  round  it 
three  times  widershins,  and  every  time  say,  "  Open, 
door !  open,  door  !  and  let  me  come  in  ;  and  the  third 
time  the  door  will  open,  and  you  may  go  in."  So 
Child  Rowland  drew  the  good  claymore,  [Excalibar,] 
that  never  struck  in  vain,  and  hewed  off  the  head 
of  the  hen-wife.  Then  went  he  three  times  ivider- 
shins  round  the  green  hill,  crying,  "  Open,  door ! 
open,  door !  and  let  me  come  in ;  "  and  the  third  time 
the  door  opened,  and  he  went  in. 

It  immediately  closed  behind  him  ;  and  he  proceeded 
through  a  long  passage,  where  the  air  was  soft  and 


AND    BURD    ELLEN.  249 

agreeably  warm  like  a  May  evening,  as  is  all  the  air 
of  Elfland.  The  light  was  a  sort  of  twilight  or  gloam 
ing  ;  but  there  were  neither  windows  nor  candles,  and 
he  knew  not  whence  it  came,  if  it  was  not  from  the 
walls  and  roof,  which  were  rough,  and  arched  like  a 
grotto,  and  composed  of  a  clear  transparent  rock,  in- 
crusted  with  sheeps-silver  and  spar,  and  various  bright 
stones.  At  last  he  came  to  two  wide  and  lofty  folding- 
doors,  which  stood  a-jar.  He  opened  them,  and  en 
tered  a  large  and  spacious  hall,  whose  richness  and 
brilliance  no  tongue  can  tell.  It  seemed  to  extend 
the  whole  length  and  height  of  the  hill.  The  superb 
Gothic  pillars  by  which  the  roof  was  supported,  were 
so  large  and  so  lofty,  (said  my  seannachy,)  that  the 
pillars  of  the  Chanry  Kirk,*  or  of  Pluscardin  Abbey, 
are  no  more  to  be  compared  to  them,  than  the  Knock 
of  Alves  is  to  be  compared  to  Balrinnes  or  Ben-a-chi. 
They  were  of  gold  and  silver,  and  were  fretted  like 
the  west  window  of  the  Chanry  Kirk,  with  wreaths  of 
flowers  composed  of  diamonds  and  precious  stones  of 
all  manner  of  beautiful  colors.  The  key-stones  of  the 
arches  above,  instead  of  coats  of  arms  and  other  de 
vices,  were  ornamented  with  clusters  of  diamonds  in 
the  same  manner.  And  from  the  middle  of  the  roof, 
where  the  principal  arches  met,  was  hung  by  a  gold 
chain,  an  immense  lamp  of  one  hollowed  pearl,  per 
fectly  transparent,  in  the  midst  of  which  was  sus 
pended  a  large  carbuncle,  that  by  the  power  of  magic 
continually  turned  round,  and  shed  over  all  the  hall  a 
clear  and  mild  light  like  the  setting  sun  ;  but  the  hall 
was  so  large,  and  these  dazzling  objects  so  far  removed, 

*  The  cathedral  of  Elgin  naturally  enough  furnished  sim 
iles  to  a  man  who  had  never  in  his  life  been  twenty  miles 
distant  from  it. 


250  FRAGMENT    OF    CHILD    ROWLAND 

that  their  blended  radiance  cast  no  more  than  a  pleas 
ing  lustre,  and  excited  no  more  than  agreeable  sensa 
tions  in  the  eyes  of  Child  Rowland. 

The  furniture  of  the  hall  was  suitable  to  its  architec 
ture  ;  and  at  the  farther  end,  under  a  splendid  canopy, 
seated  on  a  gorgeous  sofa  of  velvet,  silk,  and  gold,  and 
"  kembing  her  yellow  hair  wi'  a  silver  kemb," 

"  There  was  his  sister  burd  Ellen  ;  25 

She  stood  up  him  before." 
Says, 

" '  God  rue  on  thee,  poor  luckless  fode  ! 
What  has  thou  to  do  here  ? 

"  'And  hear  ye  this,  my  youngest  brither, 

Why  badena  ye  at  hame  ?  so 

Had  ye  a  hunder  and  thousand  lives, 
Ye  canna  brook  ane  o'  them. 

"  And  sit  thou  down  ;  and  wae,  O  wae 

That  ever  thou  was  born ; 
For  come  the  King  o'  Elfland  in,  35 

Thy  leccam  is  forlorn  ! ' " 

A  long  conversation  then  takes  place  ;  Child  Row 
land  tells  her  the  news  [of  merry  Carlisle,]  and  of  his 
own  expedition  ;  and  concludes  with  the  observation, 
that,  after  this  long  and  fatiguing  journey  to  the  castle 
of  the  king  of  Elfland,  he  is  very  hungry. 

Burd  Ellen  looked  wistfully  and  mournfully  at  him, 
and  shook  her  head,  but  said  nothing.  Acting  under 
the  influence  of  a  magic  which  she  could  not  resist, 
she  arose,  and  brought  him  a  golden  bowl  full  of  bread 
and  milk,  which  she  presented  to  him  with  the  same 
timid,  tender,  and  anxious  expression  of  solicitude. 


AND    BURD    ELLEN.  251 

Remembering  the  instructions  of  the  Warluck  Mer 
lin,  "  Burd  Ellen,"  said  Child  Rowland,  "  I  will  neither 
taste  nor  touch  till  I  have  set  thee  free  !  "  Immedi 
ately  the  folding-doors  burst  open  with  tremendous 
violence,  and  in  came  the  king  of  Elfland, 

«  With  '/,/,/<?,  and  fum  ! 

I  smell  the  blood  of  a  Christian  man  ! 
Be  he  dead,  be  he  living,  wi'  my  brand 

I'll  clash  his  harns  frae  his  harn-pan  ! '"       *o 

"  Strike,  then,  Bogle  of  Hell,  if  thou  darest !  "  ex 
claimed  the  undaunted  Child  Rowland,  starting  up, 
and  drawing  the  good  claymore,  [Excalibar,]  that 
never  struck  in  vain. 

A  furious  combat  ensued,  and  the  king  of  Elfland 
was  felled  to  the  ground ;  but  Child  Rowland  spared 
him  on  condition  that  he  should  restore  to  him  his  two 
brothers,  who  lay  in  a  trance  in  a  corner  of  the  hall, 
and  his  sister,  the  fair  burd  Ellen.  The  king  of 
Elfland  then  produced  a  small  crystal  phial,  containing 
a  bright  red  liquor,  with  which  he  anointed  the  lips, 
nostrils,  eye-lids,  ears,  and  finger-ends  of  the  two  young 
men,  who  immediately  awoke  as  from  a  profound  sleep, 
during  which  their  souls  had  quitted  their  bodies,  and 
they  had  seen,  &c.,  &c.,  &c.  So  they  all  four  returned 
in  triumph  to  [merry  Carlisle.] 

Such  was  the  rude  outline  of  the  romance  of  Child 
Rowland,  as  it  was  told  to  me  when  I  was  about  seven 
or  eight  years  old,  by  a  country  tailor  then  at  work  in 
my  father's  house.  He  was  an  ignorant  and  dull  good 
sort  of  honest  man,  who  seemed  never  to  have  ques 
tioned  the  truth  of  what  he  related.  Where  the  et 


252      FRAGMENT    OF    CHILD    ROWLAND,    ETC. 

costeras  are  put  down,  many  curious  particulars  have 
been  omitted,  because  I  was  afraid  of  being  deceived 
by  my  memory,  and  substituting  one  thing  for  another. 
It  is  right  also  to  admonish  the  reader,  that  the 
Warluck  Merlin,  Child  Rowland,  and  Burd  Ellen, 
were  the  only  names  introduced  in  his  recitation  ;  and 
that  the  others,  inclosed  within  brackets,  are  assumed 
upon  the  authority  of  the  locality  given  to  the  story 
by  the  mention  of  Merlin.  In  every  other  respect  I 
have  been  as  faithful  as  possible. 


ROSMER  HAFMAND, 

OR, 
THE  MER-MAN  ROSMER. 

The  ballad  of  Rosmer  is  found  in  Danish,  Swedish, 
Faroish,  and  Norse.  All  the  questions  bearing  upon 
its  origin,  and  the  relations  of  the  various  forms  in 
which  the  story  exists,  are  amply  discussed  by  Grundt- 
vig,  vol.  ii.  p.  72.  Three  versions  of  the  Danish  bal 
lad  are  given  by  Vedel,  all  of  which  Jamieson  has 
translated.  The  following  is  No.  31  in  Abrahamson. 

THERE  dwalls  a  lady  in  Danmarck, 

Lady  Hillers  lyle  men  her  ca' ; 
And  she's  gar'd  bigg  a  new  castell, 

That  shines  o'er  Danmarck  a'. 

Her  dochter  was  stown  awa  frae  her ;  « 

She  sought  for  her  wide-whare ; 
But  the  mair  she  sought,  and  the  less  she  fand, — 

That  wirks  her  sorrow  and  care. 

And  she's  gar'd  bigg  a  new  ship, 

Wi'  vanes  o'  flaming  goud,  10 

Wi'  mony  a  knight  and  mariner, 

Sae  stark  in  need  bestow'd. 

She's  followed  her  sons  down  to  the  strand, 

That  chaste  and  noble  fre  ; 
And  wull  and  waif  for  eight  lang  years  i& 

They  sail'd  upon  the  sea. 


254  ROSMER    HAFMAND, 

And  eight  years  wull  and  waif  they  sail'd, 
O'  months  that  seem'd  sae  lang ; 

Syne  they  sail'd  afore  a  high  castell, 
And  to  the  land  can  gang. 

And  the  young  lady  Svane  lyle, 
In  the  bower  that  was  the  best, 

Says,  "  Wharfrae  cam  thir  frem  swains, 
Wi'  us  this  night  to  guest  ?  " 

Then  up  and  spak  her  youngest  brither, 

Sae  wisely  ay  spak  he  ; 
"  We  are  a  widow's  three  poor  sons, 
Lang  wilder'd  on  the  sea. 

"  In  Danmarck  were  we  born  and  bred, 

Lady  Hillers  lyle  was  our  mither  ; 
Our  sister  frae  us  was  stown  awa, 
We  findna  whare  or  whither." 

u  In  Danmarck  were  ye  born  and  bred  ? 

Was  Lady  Hillers  your  mither  ? 
I  can  nae  langer  heal  frae  thee, 
Thou  art  my  youngest  brither. 

"  And  hear  ye  this,  my  youngest  brither : 

Why  bade  na  ye  at  name  ? 
Had  ye  a  hunder  and  thousand  lives, 
Ye  canna  brook  ane  o'  them." 

She's  set  him  in  the  weiest  nook 

She  in  the  house  can  meet ; 
She's  bidden  him  for  the  high  God's  sake 

Nouther  to  laugh  ne  greet. 


OR,    THE    MER-MAN   ROSMER.  255 

Rosmer  hame  frae  Zealand  came,  45 

And  he  took  on  to  bann  : 
"  I  smell  fu'  weel,  by  my  right  hand, 
That  here  is  a  Christian  man." 

"  There  flew  a  bird  out  o'er  the  house, 

Wi'  a  man's  bane  in  his  mouth ;  » 

He  coost  it  in,  and  I  cast  it  out, 
As  fast  as  e'er  I  couth." 

But  wilyly  she  can  Rosmer  win  ; 

And  clapping  him  tenderly, 
"  It's  here  is  come  my  sister-son  ;  —  55 

Gin  I  lose  him,  I'll  die. 

"  It's  here  is  come,  my  sister-son, 
Frae  baith  our  fathers'  land  ; 
And  I  ha'e  pledged  him  faith  and  troth, 
That  ye  will  not  him  bann."  so 

44  And  is  he  come,  thy  sister-son, 

Frae  thy  father's  land  to  thee  ? 
Then  I  will  swear  my  highest  aith, 
He's  dree  nae  skaith  frae  me." 

'Twas  then  the  high  king  Rosmer,  os 

He  ca'd  on  younkers  twae: 
"  Ye  bid  proud  Svane  lyle's  sister-son 
To  the  chalmer  afore  me  gae." 

It  was  Svan&  lyle's  sister-son, 

Whan  afore  Rosmer  he  wan,  TO 

His  heart  it  quook,  and  his  body  shook, 

Sae  fley'd,  he  scarce  dow  stand. 


256  BOSMER   HAFMAND, 

Sae  Rosmer  took  her  sister-son, 

Set  him  upon  his  knee  ; 
He  clappit  him  sae  luifsomely,  I 

He  turned  baith  blue  and  blae. 

And  up  and  spak  she,  Svane  lyle ; 

"  Sir  Rosmer,  ye're  nae  to  learn 

That  your  ten  fingers  arena  sma, 

To  clap  sae  little  a  bairn."  8 

There  was  he  till,  the  fifthen  year, 
He  green'd  for  hame  and  land  : 
"  Help  me  now,  sister  Svane  lyle, 
To  be  set  on  the  white  sand." 

It  was  proud  Lady  Svane  lyle,  8 

Afore  Rosmer  can  stand : 
"  This  younker  sae  lang  in  the  sea  has  been, 
He  greens  for  hame  and  land." 

"  Gin  the  younker  sae  lang  in  the  sea  has  been, 
And  greens  for  hame  and  land,  • 

Then  I'll  gie  him  a  kist  wi'  goud, 
Sae  fitting  till  his  hand." 

"  And  will  ye  gi'e  him  a  kist  wi'  goud, 

Sae  fitting  till  his  hand  ? 
Then  hear  ye,  my  noble  heartis  dear,  u 

Ye  bear  them  baith  to  land." 

Then  wrought  proud  Lady  Svane  lyle 

What  Rosmer  little  wist ; 
For  she's  tane  out  the  goud  sae  red, 

And  kid  hersel  i'  the  kist.  101 


OR,    THE    MER-MAN    ROSMER.  257 

He's  ta'en  the  man  upon  his  back ; 

The  kist  in  his  mouth  took  he; 
And  he  has  gane  the  lang  way  up 

Frae  the  bottom  o'  the  sea. 

"  Now  I  ha'e  borne  thee  to  the  land ;  105 

Thou  seest  baith  sun  and  moon ; 
Namena  Lady  Svane  for  thy  highest  God, 
I  beg  thee  as  a  boon." 

Rosmer  sprang  i'  the  saut  sea  out, 

And  jawp'd  it  up  i'  the  sky ;  110 

But  whan  he  cam  till  the  castell  in, 

Nae  Svane  lyle  could  he  spy. 

Whan  he  came  till  the  castell  in, 

His  dearest  awa  was  gane ; 
Like  wood  he  sprang  the  castell  about,  us 

On  the  rock  o'  the  black  flintstane. 

Glad  they  were  in  proud  Hillers  lyle's  house, 

Wi'  welcome  joy  and  glee  ; 
Hame  to  their  friends  her  bairns  were  come, 

That  had  lang  been  in  th<»  sea.  120 


VOL.  i.  17 


TAM-A-LINE,  THE  ELFIN  KNICHT.    (Seepage  114.) 

From  Scottish  Traditionary  Versions  of  Anci&nt  Ballads,  Percy 
Society,  xvii.  p.  11. 

TAKE  warnin',  a'  ye  ladyes  fair, 

That  wear  gowd  on  your  hair ; 
Come  never  unto  Charter-woods, 

For  Tam-a-line  he's  there. 

Even  about  that  knicht's  middle  « 

O'  siller  bells  are  nine ; 
Nae  ane  comes  to  Charter-woods, 

And  a  may  returns  agen. 

Ladye  Margaret  sits  in  her  bouir  door, 

Sewing  at  her  silken  seam  ;  10 

And  she  lang'd  to  gang  to  Charter  woods, 
To  pou  the  roses  green. 

She  hadna  pou'd  a  rose,  a  rose, 

Nor  braken  a  branch  but  ane, 
Till  by  it  came  him  true  Tam-a-line,  is 

Says,  "  Layde,  lat  alane. 

"  O  why  pou  ye  the  rose,  the  rose  ? 

Or  why  brake  ye  the  tree  ? 
Or  why  come  ye  to  Charter-woods, 
Without  leave  ask'd  of  me  ?  "  20 


TAM-A-LINE.  259 

"  I  will  pou  the  rose,  the  rose, 

And  I  will  brake  the  tree ; 

Charter-woods  are  a'  my  ain, 

I'll  ask  nae  leave  o'  thee." 

He's  taen  her  by  the  milk-white  hand,  25 

And  by  the  grass-green  sleeve ; 
And  laid  her  low  on  gude  green  wood, 

At  her  he  spier'd  nae  leave. 

When  he  had  got  his  will  o'  her, 

His  will  as  he  had  ta'en,  90 

He's  ta'en  her  by  the  middle  srna', 

Set  her  to  feet  again. 

She  turn'd  her  richt  and  round  about, 

To  spier  her  true  love's  name, 
But  naething  heard  she,  nor  naething  saw,      ss 

As  a'  the  woods  grew  dim. 

Seven  days  she  tarried  there, 

Saw  neither  sun  nor  muin  ; 
At  length,  by  a  sma'  glimmerin'  licht, 

Came  thro'  the  wood  her  lane.  « 

When  she  came  to  her  father's  court, 

Was  fine  as  ony  queen  ; 
But  when  eight  months  were  past  and  gane, 

Got  on  the  gown  o'  green. 

Then  out  it  speaks  an  eldren  knicht,  « 

As  he  stood  at  the  yett ; 
Our  king's  dochter,  she  gaes  wi'  bairn, 

And  we'll  get  a'  the  wyte." 


260  TAM-A-LINE. 

"  O  baud  your  tongue,  ye  eldren  man, 

And  bring  me  not  to  shame  ; 

Although  that  I  do  gang  wi'  bairn, 

Yese  naeways  get  the  blame. 

"  Were  my  love  but  an  earthly  man, 

As  he's  an  elfin  knicht, 
I  wadna  gie  my  ain  true  luve, 
For  a'  that's  in  my  sicht." 

Then  out  it  speaks  her  brither  dear, 

He  meant  to  do  her  harm, 
"  There  is  an  herb  in  Charter-woods 
Will  twine  you  an'  the  bairn." 

She's  taen  her  mantle  her  about, 
Her  coiffer  by  the  band ; 

And  she  is  on  to  Charter-woods, 
As  fast  as  she  coud  gang. 

She  hadna  poud  a  rose,  a  rose, 
Nor  braken  a  branch  but  ane, 

Till  by  it  came  him,  Tam-a-Line, 
Says,  "  Ladye,  lat  alane." 

"  O  !  why  pou  ye  the  pile,  Margaret, 

The  pile  o'  the  gravil  green, 
For  to  destroy  the  bonny  bairn 
That  we  got  us  between  ? 

"  O  !  why  pou  ye  the  pile,  Margaret, 

The  pile  o'  the  gravil  gray, 

For  to  destroy  the  bonny  bairn 

That  we  got  in  our  play  ? 


TAM-A-LINE.  261 

"  For  if  it  be  a  knave  bairn, 
He's  heir  o'  a'  my  land ; 
But  if  it  be  a  lass  bairn, 

In  red  gowd  she  shall  gang."  so 

"  If  my  luve  were  an  earthly  man, 

As  he's  an  elfin  grey, 
I  coud  gang  bound,  luve,  for  your  sake, 
A  twalmonth  and  a  day." 

"  Indeed  your  luve's  an  earthly  man,  M 

The  same  as  well  as  thee  ; 
And  lang  I've  haunted  Charter-woods, 
A'  for  your  fair  bodie." 

"  O !  tell  me,  tell  me,  Tam-a-Line, 

O  !  tell,  an'  tell  me  true  ;  90 

Tell  me  this  nicht,  an'  mak'  nae  lee, 
What  pedigree  are  you  ?  " 

"  O  !  I  hae  been  at  gude  church-door, 

An'  I've  got  Christendom  ; 
I'm  the  Earl  o'  Forbes'  eldest  son,  96 

An'  heir  ower  a'  his  land. 

;'  When  I  was  young,  o'  three  years  old, 

Muckle  was  made  o'  me  ; 
My  stepmither  put  on  my  claithes, 

An'  ill,  ill,  sained  she  me.  100 

u  Ae  fatal  morning  I  gaed  out, 

Dreading  nae  injurie ; 
And  thinking  lang,  fell  soun  asleep, 
Beneath  an  apple  tree. 


262  TAM-A-LINE. 

"  Then  by  it  came  the  Elfin  Queen, 

And  laid  her  hand  on  me  ; 
And  from  that  time  since  e'er  I  mind, 
I've  been  in  her  companie. 

"  O  Elfin  it's  a  bonny  place, 

In  it  fain  wad  I  dwell; 
But  aye  at  ilka  seven  years'  end, 

They  pay  a  tiend  to  hell, 
And  I'm  sae  fou  o'  flesh  an  blude, 

I'm  sair  fear'd  for  mysell." 

"  O  tell  me,  tell  me,  Tam-a-Line, 

O  tell,  an'  tell  me  true ; 
Tell  me  this  nieht,  an'  mak'  nae  lee, 
What  way  I'll  borrow  you  ?  " 

"  The  morn  is  Hallowe'en  nicht, 

The  Elfin  court  will  ride, 
Through  England,  and  thro'  a'  Scotland, 
And  through  the  warld  wide. 

"  O  they  begin  at  sky  sett  in, 
Ride  a'  the  evenin'  tide  ; 
And  she  that  will  her  true  love  borrow, 
At  Miles-cross  will  him  bide. 

"  Ye'll  do  ye  down  to  Miles-cross, 
Between  twall  hours  and  ane ; 
And  full  your  hands  o'  holie  water, 
And  cast  your  compass  roun'. 

"  Then  the  first  ane  court  that  comes  you  till, 
Is  published  king  and  queen  ; 


TAM-A-LINE.  263 

The  neist  ane  court  that  comes  you  till, 
It  is  maidens  mony  ane. 

"  The  neist  ane  court  that  comes  you  till,         ias 

Is  footmen,  grooms,  and  squires  ; 
The  neist  ane  court  that  comes  you  till, 
Is  knichts  ;  and  I'll  be  there. 

"  I  Tam-a-Line,  on  milk-white  steed, 

A  gowd  star  on  my  crown ;  n° 

Because  I  was  an  earthly  knicht, 
Got  that  for  a  renown. 

"  And  out  at  my  steed's  right  nostril, 

He'll  breathe  a  fiery  flame  ; 
Ye'll  loot  you  low,  and  sain  yoursel,  i« 

And  ye'll  be  busy  then. 

"  Ye'll  tak'  my  horse  then  by  the  head, 

And  lat  the  bridal  fa'; 
The  Queen  o'  Elfin  she'll  cry  out, 

*  True  Tam-a-Line's  awa'.  we 

"  Then  I'll  appear  into  your  arms 

Like  the  wolf  that  ne'er  wad  tame  ; 
Ye'll  haud  me  fast,  lat  me  not  gae, 
Case  we  ne'er  meet  again. 

"  Then  I'll  appear  into  your  arms  IM 

Like  fire  that  burns  sae  bauld  ; 
Ye'll  haud  me  fast,  lat  me  not  gae, 
I'll  be  as  iron  cauld. 

"  Then  I'll  appear  into  your  arms 

Like  the  adder  an'  the  snake ;  100 


264  TAM-A-LINE. 

Ye'll  baud  me  fast,  lat  me  not  gae, 
I  am  your  warld's  maike. 

"  Then  I'll  appear  into  your  arms 

Like  to  the  deer  sae  wild  ; 
Ye'll  haud  me  fast,  lat  me  not  gae,  ies 

And  I'll  father  your  child. 

"  And  I'll  appear  into  your  arms 

Like  to  a  silken  string ; 
Ye'll  haud  me  fast,  lat  me  not  gae, 
Till  ye  see  the  fair  mornin'.  iro 

"  And  I'll  appear  into  your  arms 

Like  to  a  naked  man  ; 
Ye'll  haud  me  fast,  lat  me  not  gae, 
And  wi'  you  I'll  gae  hame." 

Then  she  has  done  her  to  Miles-cross,  175 

Between  twal  hours  an'  ane  ; 
And  filled  her  hands  o'  holie  water, 

And  kiest  her  compass  roun'. 

The  first  ane  court  that  came  her  till, 

Was  published  king  and  queen  ;  iso 

The  niest  ane  court  that  came  her  till, 
Was  maidens  mony  ane. 

The  niest  ane  court  that  came  her  till, 
Was  footmen,  grooms,  and  squires; 

The  niest  ane  court  that  came  her  till,  iss 

Was  knichts ;  and  he  was  there  ! 

True  Tam-a-Line,  on  milk-white  steed, 
A  gowd  star  on  his  crown  ; 


TAM-A-LINE.  265 

Because  he  was  an  earthly  man, 
Got  that  for  a  renown.  190 

And  out  at  the  steed's  right  nostril, 

He  breath'd  a  fiery  flatne  ; 
She  loots  her  low,  an'  sains  hersel, 

And  she  was  busy  then. 

She's  taen  the  horse  then  by  the  head,  195 

And  loot  the  bridle  fa'; 
The  Queen  o'  Elfin  she  cried  out, — 
"  True  Tam-a-Line's  awa'." 

"  Stay  still,  true  Tam-a-Line,"  she  says, 

"  Till  I  pay  you  your  fee  ; "  200 

"  His  father  wants  not  lands  nor  rents, 
He'll  ask  nae  fee  frae  thee." 

"  Gin  I  had  kent  yestreen,  yestreen, 

What  I  ken  weel  the  day, 
I  shou'd  hae  taen  your  fu'  fause  heart,  aoe 

Gien  you  a  heart  o'  clay." 

Then  he  appeared  into  her  arms 
Like  the  wolf  that  ne'er  wad  tame  ; 

She  held  him  fast,  lat  him  not  gae, 

Case  they  ne'er  met  again.  210 

Then  he  appeared  into  her  arms 

Like  the  fire  burning  bauld ; 
She  held  him  fast,  lat  him  not  gae, 

He  was  as  iron  cauld. 

And  he  appeared  into  her  arms  215 

Like  the  adder  an'  the  snake ; 


266  TAM-A-LINE. 

She  held  him  fast,  lat  him  not  gae, 
He  was  her  warld's  maike. 

And  he  appeared  into  her  arms 

Like  to  the  deer  sae  wild ; 
She  held  him  fast,  lat  him  not  gae, 

He's  father  o'  her  child. 

And  he  appeared  into  her  arms 

Like  to  a  silken  string ; 
She  held  him  fast,  lat  him  not  gae, 

Till  she  saw  fair  mornin*. 

And  he  appeared  into  her  arms 

Like  to  a  naked  man  ; 
She  held  him  fast,  lat  him  not  gae, 

And  wi'  her  he's  gane  hame. 

These  news  hae  reach'd  thro'  a'  Scotland, 

And  far  ayont  the  Tay, 
That  ladye  Margaret,  our  king's  dochter, 

That  nicht  had  gain'd  her  prey. 

She  borrowed  her  love  at  mirk  midnicht, 
Bare  her  young  son  ere  day ; 

And  though  ye'd  search  the  warld  wide, 
Ye'll  nae  find  sic  a  may. 


TOM  LINN.    (See  p.  114.) 


THIS  fragment  was  taken  down  from  the  recitation 
of  an  old  woman.  Maidment's  New  Book  of  Old  Bal 
lads,  p.  54. 


O  ALL  you  ladies  young  and  gay, 
Who  are  so  sweet  and  fair, 

Do  not  go  into  Chaster's  wood, 
For  Tomlinn  will  be  there. 


Fair  Margaret  sat  in  her  bonny  bower, 

Sewing  her  silken  seam, 
And  wished  to  be  in  Chaster's  wood, 

Among  the  leaves  so  green. 

She  let  the  seam  fall  to  her  foot, 

The  needle  to  her  toe, 
And  she  has  gone  to  Chaster's  wood, 

As  fast  as  she  could  go. 


268  TOM   LINN. 

When  she  began  to  pull  the  flowers ; 

She  pull'd  both  red  and  green  ; 
Then  by  did  come,  and  by  did  go, 

Said,  "  Fair  maid,  let  abene  ! 

"  O  why  pluck  you  the  flowers,  lady, 
Or  why  climb  you  the  tree  ? 

Or  why  come  ye  to  Chaster's  wood, 
Without  the  leave  of  me  ?  " 

"  O  I  will  pull  the  flowers,"  she  said, 
"  Or  I  will  break  the  tree  ; 

For  Chaster's  wood  it  is  my  own, 
I'll  ask  no  leave  at  thee." 

He  took  her  by  the  milk-white  hand, 
And  by  the  grass-green  sleeve  ; 

And  laid  her  down  upon  the  flowers, 
At  her  he  ask'd  no  leave. 

The  lady  blush'd  and  sourly  frown'd, 
And  she  did  think  great  shame  ; 

Says,  "  If  you  are  a  gentleman, 
You  will  tell  me  your  name/' 

"  First  they  call  me  Jack,"  he  said, 
"  And  then  they  call'd  me  John ; 

But  since  I  liv'd  in  the  Fairy  court, 
Tomlinn  has  always  been  my  name. 

"  So  do  not  pluck  that  flower,  lady, 
That  has  these  pimples  gray ; 

They  would  destroy  the  bonny  babe 
That  we've  gotten  in  our  play." 


TOM    LINN.  269 

"  O  tell  to  me,  Tomlinn,"  she  said, 

"  And  tell  it  to  me  soon ; 
Was  you  ever  at  a  good  church  door, 

Or  got  you  Christendom  ?  " 

"  O  I  have  been  at  good  church  door,  45 

And  oft  her  yetts  within  ; 
I  was  the  Laird  of  Foulis's  son, 

The  heir  of  all  his  land. 

"  But  it  fell  once  upon  a  day, 

As  hunting  I  did  ride,  so 

As  I  rode  east  and  west  yon  hill, 

Then  woe  did  me  betide. 

"  O  drowsy,  drowsy  as  I  was, 

Dead  sleep  upon  me  fell ; 
The  Queen  of  Fairies  she  was  there,  M 

And  took  me  to  hersel. 

"  The  morn  at  even  is  Hallowe'en, 

Our  Fairy  court  will  ride, 
Through  England  and  through  Scotland  both, 

Through  all  the  world  wide  ;  eo 

And  if  that  ye  would  me  borrow, 

At  Rides  Cross  ye  may  bide. 

"  You  may  go  into  the  Miles  Moss, 

Between  twelve  hours  and  one  ; 
Take  holy  water  in  your  hand,  ea 

And  cast  a  compass  round. 

"  The  first  court  that  comes  along, 
You'll  let  them  all  pass  by ; 


270  TOM   LINN. 

The  next  court  that  comes  along, 
Salute  them  reverently. 

"  The  next  court  that  comes  along, 
Is  clad  in  robes  of  green ; 

And  it's  the  head  court  of  them  all, 
For  in  it  rides  the  Queen. 

"  And  I  upon  a  milk-white  steed, 
With  a  gold  star  in  my  crown ; 

Because  I  am  an  earthly  man, 
I'm  next  the  Queen  in  renown. 

"  Then  seize  upon  me  with  a  spring, 
Then  to  the  ground  I'll  fa' ; 

And  then  you'll  hear  a  rueful  cry, 
That  Tomlinn  is  awa'. 

"  Then  I'll  grow  in  your  arms  two, 

Like  to  a  savage  wild  ; 
But  hold  me  fast,  let  me  not  go, 

I'm  father  of  your  child. 

"  I'll  grow  into  your  arms  two 
Like  an  adder,  or  a  snake ; 

But  hold  me  fast,  let  me  not  go, 
I'll  be  your  earthly  maik. 

"  I'll  grow  into  your  arms  two 
Like  ice  on  frozen  lake ; 

But  hold  me  fast,  let  me  not  go, 
Or  from  your  goupen  break. 


BURD    ELLEN   AND    YOUNG    TAMLANE.     271 

"  I'll  grow  into  your  arms  two,  » 

Like  iron  in  strong  fire ; 
But  hold  me  fast,  let  me  not  go, 

Then  you'll  have  your  desire." 

And  its  next  night  into  Miles  Moss, 
Fair  Margaret  has  gone ;  100 

When  lo  she  stands  beside  Rides  Cross, 
Between  twelve  hours  and  one. 

There's  holy  water  in  her  hand, 

She  casts  a  compass  round ; 
And  presently  a  Fairy  band  ice 

Comes  riding  o'er  the  mound. 


THIS  seems  to  be  the  most  appropriate  connection 
for  a  short  fragment  from  Maidment's  North  Countrie 
Garland,  (p.  21.)  It  was  taken  down  from  the  recita 
tion  of  a  lady  who  had  heard  it  sung  in  her  childhood. 


BUE-D  ELLEN  AND  YOUNG  TAMLANE. 


BURD  Ellen  sits  in  the  bower  windowe, 

With  a  double  laddy  double,  and  for  the  double  dow, 

Twisting  the  red  silk  and  the  blue, 
With  the  double  rose  and  the  May-hay. 


272    BURD    ELLEN    AND    YOUNG    TAMLANE. 

And  whiles  she  twisted,  and  whiles  she  twan, 

With  a  double,  &c. 
And  whiles  the  tears  fell  down  amang, 

With  the  double,  &c. 

Till  once  there  by  cam  young  Tamlane, 

With  a  double,  &c. 

"  Come  light,  oh  light,  and  rock  your  young  son  ! 
With  the  double,  &c. 

"  If  you  winna  rock  him,  you  may  let  him  rair, 

With  a  double,  &c. 
For  I  hae  rockit  my  share  and  mair." 

With  the  double,  &c. 


Young  Tamlane  to  the  seas  he's  gane, 

With  a  double  laddy  double,  and  for  the  double  dow, 
And  a'  women's  curse  in  his  company's  gane, 

With  the  double  rose,  and  the  May-hay.  20 


ALS  Y  YOD  ON  AY  MOUND  AY.    (See  p.  126.) 

IN  the  manuscript  from  which  these  verses  are 
taken,  they  form  the  preface  to  a  long  strain  of  in 
comprehensible  prophecies  of  the  same  description  as 
those  which  are  appended  to  Thomas  of  Ersyldoune. 
Whether  the  two  portions  belong  together,  or  not, 
(and  it  will  be  seen  that  they  are  ill  enough  joined,) 
the  first  alone  requires  to  be  cited  here  for  the  purpose 
of  comparison  with  the  Wee  Wee  Man.  The  whole 
piece  has  been  twice  printed,  first  by  Finlay,  in  his 
Scottish  Ballads,  (ii.  163,)  and  afterwards,  by  a  person 
who  was  not  aware  that  he  had  been  anticipated,  in 
the  Retrospective  Review,  Second  Series,  vol.  ii.  p.  326. 
Both  texts  are  in  places  nearly  unintelligible,  and  are 
evidently  full  of  errors,  part  of  which  we  must  ascribe 
to  the  incompetency  of  the  editors.  Finlay 's  is  here 
adopted  as  on  the  whole  the  best,  but  it  has  received 
a  few  corrections  from  the  other,  and  one  or  two  con 
jectural  emendations. 

ALS  y  yod  on  ay  Mounday 
Bytwene  Wyltinden  and  Wall, 

The  ane  after  brade  way, 

Ay  litel  man  y  mette  with  alle, 

The  leste  yat  ever  y,  sathe  to  say,  .       * 

Oither  in  bowr,  either  in  halle ; 

His  robe  was  neither  grene  na  gray, 

Bot  alle  yt  was  of  riche  palle. 
VOL.  i.  18 


274  ALS   Y  YOD   ON  AY  MOUNDAY. 

On  me  he  cald,  and  bad  me  bide  ; 

Well  stille  y  stode  ay  litel  space  ;  10 

Fra  Lanchestre  the  parke  syde 

Yeen  he  come,  wel  fair  his  pase. 
He  hailsed  me  with  mikel  pride ; 

Ic  haved  wel  mykel  ferly  wat  he  was ; 
I  saide,— "  Wel  mote  the  betyde,  ifi 

That  litel  man  with  large  face." 

I  beheld  that  litel  man 

Bi  the  strete  als  we  gon  gae ; 
His  berd  was  syde  ay  large  span, 

And  glided  als  the  fether  of  pae  ;  20 

His  heved  was  wyte  als  ony  swan, 

His  hegehen  was  gret  and  grai  als  so ; 
Brues  lange,  wel  I  the  can 

Merk  it  to  fize  inches  and  mae. 

Armes  scort,  for  sothe  I  saye,  25 

Ay  span  seemed  thaem  to  bee : 
Handes  brade  vytouten  nay, 

And  fingeres  lange,  he  scheued  me. 
Ay  stane  he  tok  op  thar  it  lay, 

And  castit  forth  that  I  moth  see  ;  ao 

Ay  merk-soot  of  large  way 

Bifore  me  strides  he  castit  three. 

Wel  stille  I  stod  als  did  the  stane, 

To  loke  him  on  thouth  me  nouth  lang ; 

His  robe  was  alle  gold  begane,  ss 

Wel  craftelike  maked,  I  understande  ; 


Finlay,  36,  crustlike. 


ALS  Y  YOD  ON  AY  MOUNDAY.  275 

Botones  asurd,  everlk  ane, 

Fra  his  elbouthe  ontil  his  hande ; 

Erdelik  man  was  he  nane ; 

That  in  myn  hert  ich  onderstande.  <o 

Til  him  I  sayde  ful  sone  on  ane, 

For  forthirmar  I  wald  him  fraine, 
"  Gladli  wald  I  wit  thi  name, 

And  I  wist  wat  me  mouthe  gaine ; 
Thou  ert  so  litel  of  fleshe  and  bane,  45 

And  so  mikel  of  mith  and  mayne, 
War  vones  thou,  litel  man,  at  hame  ? 

Wit  of  thee  I  wald  ful  faine." 

"  Thoth  I  be  litel  and  lith, 

Am  y  noth  wytouten  wane  ;  «o 

Ferli  framed  thou  wat  hi  hith, 

That  thou  salt  noth  wit  my  name  ; 
My  wonige  stede  ful  wel  es  dyght, 

Nou  sone  thou  salt  se  at  hame." 
Til  him  I  sayde,  "  For  Godes  mith,  « 

Let  me  forth  myn  erand  gane." 

"  The  thar  noth  of  thin  erand  lette, 

Thouth  thou  come  ay  stonde  wit  me, 
Forther  salt  thou  noth  bi  sette, 

Bi  miles  twa  noyther  bi  three."  60 

Na  linger  durst  I  for  him  lette, 

But  forth  y  funded  wyt  that  free ; 
Stintid  vs  brok  no  beck  ; 

Ferlich  me  thouth  hu  so  mouth  bee. 

39.  Clidelik.    43,  Glalli  wild.    62,  That,  qy.  YatV;  with. 
63,  dygh. 


276  ALS   T  YOD  ON  AY  MOUNDAY. 

He  vent  forth,  als  y  you  say,  66 

In  at  ay  yate,  y  vnderstande  ; 
In  til  ay  yate  wvndouten  nay  ; 

It  to  se  thouth  me  nouth  lang. 
The  bankers  on  the  binkes  lay, 

And  fair  lordes  sett  y  fonde  ;  ft) 

In  ilka  ay  him  y  herd  ay  lay, 

And  leuedys  soth  meloude  sange. 

[Here  there  seems  to  be  a  break,  and  a  new  start 
made,  with  a  tale  told  not  on  a  Monday,  but  on  a 
Wednesday.] 

Lithe,  bothe  zonge  and  aide : 

Of  ay  worde  y  will  you  saye, 
Ay  litel  tale  that  me  was  tald 

Erli  on  ay  Wedenesdaye. 
A  mody  barn,  that  was  ful  bald, 

My  friend  that  y  frained  aye, 
Al  my  gesing  he  me  tald, 

And  galid  me  als  we  went  bi  waye. 

"  Miri  man,  that  es  so  wyth, 

Of  ay  thing  gif  me  answere : 
For  him  that  mensked  man  wyt  mith, 
Wat  sal  worth  of  this  were  ?  &c. 

68,  south. 


THE  ELPHIN  KNIGHT.     (See  p.  128s) 

"  THE  following  transcript  is  a  literal  copy  from  the 
original  in  the  Pepysian  library,  Cambridge."  Moth- 
erwelTs  Minstrelsy,  Appendix,  p.  i. 

"A  Proper  New  BaUad,  entituled,  The  Wind  hath 
blown  my  Plaid  away,  orr  A  Discourse  betwixt  a  young 
Maid  and  the  Elphin-Knight ;  To  be  sung  with  its 
own  pleasant  New  Tune." 


THE  Elphin  Knight  sits  on  yon  hill, 

Ba,  ba,  ba,  lilli  ba, 
He  blowes  his  horn  both  loud  and  shril, 

The  wind  hath  blown  my  plaid  awa. 

He  blowes  it  East,  he  blowes  it  West, 

Ba,  ba,  &c. 
He  blowes  it  where  he  lyketh  best. 

The  wind,  &c. 

"  I  wish  that  horn  were  in  my  kist, 

Ba,  la,  &c. 
Yea,  and  the  knight  in  my  annes  two." 

The  wind,  &c. 


278  THE    ELPHIN   KNIGHT. 

She  had  no  sooner  these  words  said, 

Ba,  ba,  &c. 
When  that  the  knight  came  to  her  bed. 

The  wind,  &c. 

"  Thou  art  over  young  a  maid,'*  quoth  he, 

Ba,  ba,  &c. 

"  Married  with  me  thou  il  wouldst  be." 
The  wind,  &c. 

"  I  have  a  sister  younger  than  I, 

Ba,  ba,  &c. 
And  she  was  married  yesterday." 

The  wind,  &c. 

"  Married  with  me  if  thou  wouldst  be, 

Ba,  la,  &c. 
A  courtesie  thou  must  do  to  me. 

The  wind,  &c. 

"  For  thou  must  shape  a  sark  to  me, 

Ba,  ba,  &c. 

Without  any  cut  or  heme,"  quoth  he. 
The  wind,  &c. 

"  Thou  must  shape  it  needle-and  sheerlesse, 

Ba,  ba,  &c. 

And  also  sue  it  needle-threedlesse." 
The  wind,  &c. 

"  If  that  piece  of  courtesie  I  do  to  thee, 

Ba,  ba,  &c. 
Another  thou  must  do  to  me. 

The  wind,  &c. 


THE    ELPHIN   KNIGHT.  279 

"  I  have  an  aiker  of  good  ley-land, 

Ba,  ba,  &c. 
Which  lyeth  low  by  yon  sea-strand. 

The  wind,  &c. 

"  For  thou  must  cure  it  with  thy  horn,  45 

Bo.,  ba,  &c. 
So  thou  must  sow  it  with  thy  corn. 

The  wind,  &c. 

"  And  bigg  a  cart  of  stone  and  lyme, 

Ba,  ba,  &c.  w 

Robin  Redbreast  he  must  trail  it  name. 
The  wind,  &c. 

"  Thou  must  barn  it  in  a  mouse-holl, 

Ba,  ba,  &c. 

And  thrash  it  into  thy  shoes'  soil.  » 

The  wind,  &c. 

"  And  thou  must  winnow  it  in  thy  looff, 

Ba,  la,  &c. 
And  also  seek  it  in  thy  glove. 

The  wind,  &c.  oo 

"  For  thou  must  bring  it  over  the  sea, 

Ba,  ba,  &c. 
And  thou  must  bring  it  dry  home  to  me. 

The  wind,  &c. 

"  When  thou  hast  gotten  thy  turns  well  done,  65 

Ba,  ba,  &c. 
Then  come  to  me  and  get  thy  sark  then. 

The  wind,  &c." 


280  THE    ELPHIN   KNIGHT. 

"  I'l  not  quite  my  plaid  for  my  life, 

Ba,  ba,  &c. 
It  haps  my  seven  bairns  and  my  wife. 

The  wind  shall  not  blow  my  plaid  awa" 

"  My  maidenhead  I'l  then  keep  still, 

Ba,  ba,  &c. 
Let  the  Elphin  Knight  do  what  he  will. 

The  wind's  not  blown  my  plaid  awa" 

"  My  plaid  awa,  my  plaid  awa, 
And  o'er  the  hill  and  far  awa, 

And  far  awa,  to  Norrowa, 

My  plaid  shall  not  be  blown  awa." 


THE  LAIDLEY  WORM  OF  SPINDLESTON- 
HEUGH.     See  p.  137. 

"A  SONG  above  500  years  old,  made  by  the  old 
mountain-bard,  Duncan  Frasier,  living  on  Cheviot, 
A.  D.  1270." 

This  ballad,  first  published  in  Hutchinson's  History 
of  Northumberland^  was  the  composition  of  Mr.  Robert 
Lambe,  vicar  of  Norham.  Several  stanzas  are,  how 
ever,  adopted  from  some  ancient  tale.  It  has  been 
often  printed,  and  is  now  taken  from  Eitson's  North 
umberland  Garland. 

The  similar  story  of  The  Worme  ofLambton,  versified 
by  the  Rev.  J.  Watson  (compare  Ormekampen  and  the 
cognate  legends,  Grundtvig,  i.  343,  also  vol.  viii.  p. 
128,  of  this  collection),  may  be  seen  in  Richardson's 
Borderer's  Table-Book,  viii.  129,  or  in  Moore's  Pic 
torial  Book  of  Ancient  Ballad  Poetry,  page  784.  With 
the  tale  of  the  Lambton  Worm  of  Durham  agrees  in 
many  particulars  that  of  the  Worm  of  Linton  in  Rox 
burghshire.  (See  Scott's  introduction  to  Kempion,  and 
Sir  C.  Sharpe's  Bishopric  Garland,  p.  21.)  It  is  high 
ly  probable  that  the  mere  coincidence  of  sound  with 
Linden-  Worm  caused  this  last  place  to  be  selected  as 
the  scene  of  such  a  story. 

THE  king  is  gone  from  Bambrough  Castle, 

Long  may  the  princess  mourn  ; 
Long  may  she  stand  on  the  castle  wall, 

Looking  for  his  return. 


282  THE    LAIDLEY    WORM 

She  has  knotted  the  keys  upon  a  string, 

And  with  her  she  has  them  ta'en, 
She  has  cast  them  o'er  her  left  shoulder, 

And  to  the  gate  she  is  gane. 

She  tripped  out,  she  tripped  in, 

She  tript  into  the  yard  ;  10 

But  it  was  more  for  the  king's  sake, 

Than  for  the  queen's  regard. 

It  fell  out  on  a  day,  the  king 

Brought  the  queen  with  him  home  ; 

And  all  the  lords  in  our  country  is 

To  welcome  them  did  come. 

"  O  welcome  father  !  "  the  lady  cries, 

"  Unto  your  halls  and  bowers ; 
And  so  are  you,  my  step-mother, 

For  all  that's  here  is  yours."  ao 

A  lord  said,  wondering  while  she  spake, 

"  This  princess  of  the  North 
Surpasses  all  of  female  kind 

In  beauty,  and  in  worth." 

The  envious  queen  replied,  "  At  least,  25 

You  might  have  excepted  me  ; 
In  a  few  hours,  I  will  her  bring 

Down  to  a  low  degree. 

"  I  will  her  liken  to  a  laidley  worm, 

That  warps  about  the  stone,  so 

v.  21-28.     Compare   Young  Waters,  (iii.  90,)  v.  21-28,  and 
Young  Beichan  and  Susie  Pye,  (iv.  7,)  v.  113-124. 


OF    SPINDLESTON-HEUGH.  283 

And  not  till  Childy  Wynd  comes  back, 
Shall  she  again  be  won." 

The  princess  stood  at  the  bower  door 

Laughing,  who  could  her  blame  ? 
But  e'er  the  next  day's  sun  went  down,  as 

A  long  worm  she  became. 

For  seven  miles  east,  and  seven  miles  west, 
And  seven  miles  north,  and  south, 

No  blade  of  grass  or  corn  could  grow, 

So  venomous  was  her  mouth.  « 

The  milk  of  seven  stately  cows 

(It  was  costly  her  to  keep) 
Was  brought  her  daily,  which  she  drank 

Before  she  went  to  sleep. 

At  this  day  may  be  seen  the  cave  45 

Which  held  her  folded  up, 
And  the  stone  trough,  the  very  same 

Out  of  which  she  did  sup. 

Word  went  east,  and  word  went  west, 

And  word  is  gone  over  the  sea,  ao 

That  a  laidley  worm  in  Spindleston-Heughs 
Would  ruin  the  North  Country. 

Word  went  east,  and  word  went  west, 

And  over  the  sea  did  go ; 
The  Child  of  Wynd  got  wit  of  it,  « 

Which  filled  his  heart  with  woe. 

v.  31.    Childy  Wynd  is  obviously  a  corruption  of  Child 
Owain. 


284  THE    LAIDLEY     WORM 

He  called  straight  his  merry  men  all, 

They  thirty  were  and  three  : 
"  I  wish  I  were  at  Spindleston, 

This  desperate  worm  to  see. 

"  We  have  no  time  now  here  to  waste, 

Hence  quickly  let  us  sail : 
My  only  sister  Margaret, 

Something,  I  fear,  doth  ail." 

They  built  a  ship  without  delay, 

With  masts  of  the  rown  tree, 
With  flutring  sails  of  silk  so  fine, 

And  set  her  on  the  sea. 

They  went  on  board  ;  the  wind  with  speed, 

Blew  them  along  the  deep  ; 
At  length  they  spied  an  huge  square  tower 

On  a  rock  high  and  steep. 

The  sea  was  smooth,  the  weather  clear; 

When  they  approached  nigher, 
King  Ida's  castle  they  well  knew, 

And  the  banks  of  Bambroughshire. 

The  queen  look'd  out  at  her  bower  window, 

To  see  what  she  could  see ; 
There  she  espied  a  gallant  ship 

Sailing  upon  the  sea. 

When  she  beheld  the  silken  sails, 

Full  glancing  in  the  sun, 
To  sink  the  ship  she  sent  away 

Her  witch  wives  every  one. 

83,  went. 


OF    SPINDLESTON-HEUGH.  285 

The  spells  were  vain ;  the  hags  returned  85 

To  the  queen  in  sorrowful  mood, 
Crying  that  witches  have  no  power 

Where  there  is  rown-tree  wood. 

Her  last  effort,  she  sent  a  boat, 

Which  in  the  haven  lay,  w 

With  armed  men  to  board  the  ship, 

But  they  were  driven  away. 

The  worm  lept  out,  the  worm  lept  down, 

She  plaited  round  the  stone  ; 
And  ay  as  the  ship  came  to  the  land  96 

She  banged  it  off  again. 

The  Child  then  ran  out  of  her  reach 

The  ship  on  Budley-sand, 
And  jumping  into  the  shallow  sea, 

Securely  got  to  land.  100 

And  now  he  drew  his  berry-brown  sword, 

And  laid  it  on  her  head ; 
And  swore,  if  she  did  harm  to  him, 

That  he  would  strike  her  dead. 

"  O  quit  thy  sword,  and  bend  thy  bow,  105 

And  give  me  kisses  three  ; 
For  though  I  am  a  poisonous  worm, 

No  hurt  I'll  do  to  thee. 

"  O  quit  thy  sword,  and  bend  thy  bow, 

And  give  me  kisses  three  ;  110 

If  I'm  not  won  e'er  the  sun  go  down, 
Won  I  shall  never  be." 

101,  berry-broad. 


286  THE    LAIDLET    WORM 

He  quitted  his  sword,  and  bent  Ms  bow, 

He  gave  her  kisses  three  ; 
She  crept  into  a  hole  a  worm,  us 

But  out  stept  a  lady. 

No  clothing  had  this  lady  fine, 

To  keep  her  from  the  cold  ; 
He  took  his  mantle  from  him  about, 

And  round  her  did  it  fold.  120 

He  has  taken  his  mantle  from  him  about, 

And  in  it  he  wrapt  her  in, 
And  they  are  up  to  Bambrough  castle, 

As  fast  as  they  can  win. 

His  absence,  and  her  serpent  shape,  125 

The  king  had  long  deplored ; 
He  now  rejoyced  to  see  them  both 

Again  to  him  restored. 

The  queen  they  wanted,  whom  they  found 

All  pale,  and  sore  afraid,  130 

Because  she  knew  her  power  must  yield 
To  Childy  Wynd's,  who  said, 

"  Woe  be  to  thee,  thou  wicked  witch ; 

An  ill  death  mayest  thou  dee  ; 
As  thou  my  sister  hast  lik'ned,  iss 

So  lik'ned  shalt  thou  be. 

"  I  will  turn  you  into  a  toad, 

That  on  the  ground  doth  wend  ; 
And  won,  won  shalt  thou  never  be, 

Till  this  world  hath  an  end."  no 


OF    SPINDLESTON-HEUGH.  287 

Now  on  the  sand  near  Ida's  tower, 

She  crawls  a  loathsome  toad, 
And  venom  spits  on  every  maid 

She  meets  upon  her  road. 

The  virgins  all  of  Bambrough  town  i« 

Will  swear  that  they  have  seen 
This  spiteful  toad,  of  monstrous  size, 

Whilst  walking  they  have  been. 

All  folks  believe  within  the  shire 

This  story  to  be  true,  IEO 

And  they  all  run  to  Spindleston, 

The  cave  and  trough  to  view. 

This  fact  now  Duncan  Frasier, 

Of  Cheviot,  sings  in  rhime, 
Lest  Bambroughshire  men  should  forget  i« 

Some  part  of  it  in  time. 


LORD  DINGWALL.  (See  p.  152.) 

From  Buchan's  Ancient  Ballads  and  Songs  of  the  North  of 
Scotland,     (i.  204.) 

WE  were  sisters,  sisters  seven, 

Bowing  down,  bowing  down  ; 
The  fairest  women  under  heaven. 

And  aye  the  birks  a-bowing. 

They  kiest  kevels  them  amang, 
Wha  wou'd  to  the  grenewood  gang. 

The  kevels  they  gied  thro'  the  ha',  5 

And  on  the  youngest  it  did  fa'. 

Now  she  must  to  the  grenewood  gang, 
To  pu'  the  nuts  in  grenewood  hang. 

She  hadna  tarried  an  hour  but  ane, 

Till  she  met  wi'  a  highlan'  groom.  10 

He  keeped  her  sae  late  and  lang, 

Till  the  evening  set,  and  birds  they  sang. 

He  ga'e  to  her  at  their  parting, 
A  chain  o'  gold,  and  gay  gold  ring : 


LORD    DINGWALL.  289 

And  three  locks  o'  his  yellow  hair :  15 

Bade  her  keep  them  for  evermair. 

When  six  lang  months  were  come  and  gane, 
A  courtier  to  this  lady  came. 

Lord  Dingwall  courted  this  lady  gay, 

And  so  he  set  their  wedding-day.  ao 

A  little  boy  to  the  ha'  was  sent, 
To  bring  her  horse  was  his  intent. 

As  she  was  riding  the  way  along, 
She  began  to  make  a  heavy  moan. 

"  What  ails  you,  lady,"  the  boy  said,  25 

"  That  ye  seem  sae  dissatisfied  V 

"  Are  the  bridle  reins  for  you  too  strong? 
Or  the  stirrups  for  you  too  long  ?  " 

"  But,  little  boy,  will  ye  tell  me, 
The  fashions  that  are  in  your  countrie  ?  "        ao 

"  The  fashions  in  our  ha'  I'll  tell, 
And  o'  them  a'  I'll  warn  you  well. 

"  When  ye  come  in  upon  the  floor, 
His  mither  will  meet  you  wi'  a  golden  chair. 

"  But  be  ye  maid,  or  be  ye  nane,  35 

Unto  the  high  seat  make  ye  boua 

"  Lord  Dingwall  aft  has  been  beguil'd, 

By  girls  whom  young  men  hae  defiled. 
VOL.  i.  19 


290  LORD    DINGWALL. 

"He's  cutted  the  paps  frae  their  breast  bane, 
And  sent  them  back  to  their  ain  hame." 

When  she  came  in  upon  the  floor, 
His  mother  met  her  wi'  a  golden  chair. 

But  to  the  high  seat  she  made  her  boun' : 
She  knew  that  maiden  she  was  nane. 

When  night  was  come,  they  went  to  bed, 
And  ower  her  breast  his  arm  he  laid. 

He  quickly  jumped  upon  the  floor, 
And  said,  "  I've  got  a  vile  rank  whore." 

Unto  his  mother  he  made  his  moan, 
Says,  "  Mother  dear,  I  am  undone. 

"  Ye've  aft  tald,  when  I  brought  them  hame, 
Whether  they  were  maid  or  nane. 

"  I  thought  I'd  gotten  a  maiden  bright, 
I've  gotten  but  a  waefu'  wight. 

"  I  thought  I'd  gotten  a  maiden  clear, 
But  gotten  but  a  vile  rank  whore." 

"  When  she  came  in  upon  the  floor, 
I  met  her  wi'  a  golden  chair. 

"  But  to  the  high  seat  she  made  her  boun', 
Because  a  maiden  she  was  nane." 

"  I  wonder  wha's  tauld  tnat  gay  ladie, 
The  fashion  into  our  countrie." 


LORD    DINGWALL.  291 

"  It  is  your  little  boy  I  blame, 
Whom  ye  did  send  to  bring  her  hame." 

Then  to  the  lady  she  did  go,  w 

And  said,  "  O  Lady,  let  me  know 

u  Who  has  defiled  your  fair  bodie  ? 
Ye're  the  first  that  has  beguiled  me." 

"  O  we  were  sisters,  sisters  seven, 
The  fairest  women  under  heaven ;  70 

"  And  we  kiest  kevels  us  amang, 
Wha  wou'd  to  the  grenewood  gang ; 

"  For  to  pu'  the  finest  flowers, 
To  put  around  our  summer  bowers. 

"  I  was  the  youngest  o'  them  a',  » 

The  hardest  fortune  did  me  befa'. 

"  Unto  the  grenewood  I  did  gang, 
And  pu'd  the  nuts  as  they  down  hang. 

«*  I  hadna  stay'd  an  hour  but  ane, 
Till  I  met  wi'  a  highlan'  groom.  so 

"  He  keeped  me  sae  late  and  lang, 
Till  the  evening  set,  and  birds  they  sang. 

"  He  gae  to  me  at  our  parting, 
A  chain  of  gold,  and  gay  gold  ring : 


292  LORD    DINGWALL. 

"  And  three  locks  o'  his  yellow  hair :  9 

Bade  me  keep  them  for  evermair. 

"  Then  for  to  show  I  make  nae  lie, 
Look  ye  my  trunk,  and  ye  will  see." 

Unto  the  trunk  then  she  did  go, 

To  see  if  that  were  true  or  no.  » 

And  aye  she  sought,  and  aye  she  flang, 
Till  these  four  things  came  to  her  hand. 

Then  she  did  to  her  am  son  go, 

And  said,  "  My  son,  ye'  11  let  me  know. 

"  Ye  will  tell  to  me  this  thing :  —  95 

What  did  yo  wi'  my  wedding-ring  ?  " 

"  Mother  dear,  I'  11  tell  nae  lie : 
I  gave  it  to  a  gay  ladie. 

"  I  would  gie  a'  my  ha's  and  towers, 
I  had  this  bird  within  my  bowers."  100 

"  Keep  well,  keep  well,  your  lands  and  strands, 
.    Ye  hae  that  bird  within  your  hands. 

"  Now,  my  son,  to  your  bower  ye'  11  go : 
Comfort  your  ladie,  she's  full  o'  woe." 

Now  when  nine  months  were  come  and  gane,  i<» 
The  lady  she  brought  name  a  son. 


LORD    DING  WALL.  293 

It  was  written  on  his  breast-bane, 
Lord  Dingwall  was  his  father's  name. 

He's  ta'en  his  young  son  in  his  arms, 

And  aye  he  prais'd  his  lovely  charms.  110 

And  he  has  gi'en  him  kisses  three, 
And  doubled  them  ower  to  his  ladie. 


HYNDE    ETIN.     (Seep.  179.) 

From  Kinloch's  Ancient  Scottish  Ballads,  p.  228. 

MAY  MARG'BET  stood  in  her  bouer  door, 
Kaiming  doun  her  yellow  hair ; 

She  spied  some  nuts  growin  in  the  wud, 
And  wish'd  that  she  was  there. 

She  has  plaited  her  yellow  locks 

A  little  abune  her  bree ; 
And  she  has  kilted  her  petticoats 

A  little  below  her  knee  ; 
And  she's  aff  to  Mulberry  wud, 

As  fast  as  she  could  gae. 

She  had  na  pu'd  a  nut,  a  nut, 

A  nut  but  barely  ane, 
Till  up  started  the  Hynde  Etin, 

Says,  «  Lady !  let  thae  alane." 

"  Mulberry  wuds  are  a'  my  ain  ; 

My  father  gied  them  me, 
To  sport  and  play  when  I  thought  lang ; 
And  they  sail  na  be  tane  by  thee." 


HYNDE    ETIN. 

And  ae  she  pu'd  the  tither  berrie, 

Na  thinking  o'  the  skaith  ; 
And  said,  "  To  wrang  ye,  Hynde  Etin, 

I  wad  be  unco  laith." 

But  he  has  tane  her  by  the  yellow  locks, 

And  tied  her  till  a  tree, 
And  said,  "  For  slichting  my  commands, 

An  ill  death  shall  ye  dree." 

He  pu'd  a  tree  out  o'  the  wud, 

The  biggest  that  was  there  ; 
And  he  howkit  a  cave  monie  fathoms  deep, 

And  put  May  Marg'ret  there. 

"  Now  rest  ye  there,  ye  saucie  may  ; 

My  wuds  are  free  for  thee ; 
And  gif  I  tak  ye  to  mysell, 
The  better  ye'  11  like  me." 

Na  rest,  na  rest  May  Marg'ret  took, 

Sleep  she  got  never  nane  ; 
Her  back  lay  on  the  cauld,  cauld  floor, 

Her  head  upon  a  stane. 

"  O  tak  me  out,"  May  Marg'ret  cried, 

O  tak  me  hame  to  thee ; 
And  I  sail  be  your  bounden  page 
Until  the  day  I  dee." 

He  took  her  out  o'  the  dungeon  deep, 

And  awa  wi'  him  she's  gane  ; 
But  sad  was  the  day  an  earl's  dochter 

Gaed  hame  wi'  Hynde  Etin. 


295 


296  HYNDE    ETIN. 


It  fell  out  ance  upon  a  day, 

Hynde  Etin's  to  the  hunting  gane; 

And  he  has  tane  wi'  him  his  eldest  son, 
For  to  carry  his  game. 

"01  wad  ask  you  something,  father, 
An  ye  wadna  angry  be  ;  " — 

"  Ask  on,  ask  on,  my  eldest  son, 
Ask  onie  thing  at  me.'* 

"  My  mother's  cheeks  are  aft  times  weet, 
Alas !  they  are  seldom  dry ; " — 

"  Na  wonder,  na  wonder,  my  eldest  son, 
Tho'  she  should  brast  and  die. 

"  For  your  mother  was  an  earl's  dochter, 

Of  noble  birth  and  fame  ; 
And  now  she's  wife  o'  Hynde  Etin, 
Wha  ne'er  got  christendame. 

"  But  we'll  shoot  the  laverock  in  the  lift, 

The  buntlin  on  the  tree  ; 
And  ye'll  tak  them  hame  to  your  mother, 
And  see  if  she'll  comforted  be." 


"  I  wad  ask  ye  something,  mother, 
An'  ye  wadna  angry  be  ;  " — 

"  Ask  on,  ask  on,  my  eldest  son, 
Ask  onie  thing  at  me." 


HTNDE   ETIN.  297 

"  Your  cheeks  they  are  aft  times  weet, 

Alas  !  they're  seldom  dry ; " — 
"  Na  wonder,  na  wonder,  my  eldest  son, 

Tho'  I  should  brast  and  die. 

"  For  I  was  ance  an  earl's  dochter,  75 

Of  noble  birth  and  fame ; 
And  now  I  am  the  wife  of  Hynde  Etin, 
Wha  ne'er  got  christendame." 


SIR   OLUF   AND   THE   ELF-KING'S 
DAUGHTER.  (See  p.  192.) 

This  is  a  translation  by  Jamieson  {Popular  Ballads 
and  Songs,  i.  219),  of  the  Danish  Elveskud  (Abraham- 
son,  i.  237).  Lewis  has  given  a  version  of  the  same 
in  the  Tales  of  Wonder,  (No.  10.)  The  correspond 
ing  Swedish  ballad,  The  Elf- Woman  and  Sir  Olof 
(Afzelius,  iii.  165)  is  translated  by  Keightley,  Fairy 
Mythology,  p.  84.  This  ballad  occurs  also  in  Norse, 
Faroish,  and  Icelandic. 

Of  the  same  class  are  Elfer  Hill,  (from  the  Danish, 
Jamieson,  i.  225  ;  from  the  Swedish,  Keightley,  86 ; 
through  the  German,  Tales  of  Wonder,  No.  6 :)  Sir 
Olof  in  the  Elve-Dance,  (Keightley,  82 ;  Literature 
and  Romance  of  Northern  Europe,  by  William  and 
Mary  Howitt,  i.  269  :)  The  Merman  and  Marstig's 
Daughter,  (from  the  Danish,  Jamieson,  i.  210 ;  Tales 
of  Wonder,  No.  11  :)  the  Breton  tale  of  Lord  Nann 
and  the  Korrigan,  (Keightley,  433  :)  three  Slavic  bal 
lads  referred  to  by  Grundtvig,  (Elveskud,  ii.  Ill :) 
Sir  Peter  of  Stauffenbergh  and  the  Mermaid,  (from  the 
German,  Jamieson,  Illustrations  of  Northern  Antiqui 
ties,  257,)  and  the  well-known  Fischer  of  Goethe. 


THE  ELF-KING'S  DAUGHTER.  299 


SIR  OLUF  the  hend  has  ridden  sae  wide, 
All  unto  his  bridal  feast  to  bid. 

And  lightly  the  elves,  sae  feat  and  free, 
They  dance  all  under  the  greenwood  tree  1 

And  there  danced  four,  and  there  danced  five  ; 
The  Elf-King's  daughter  she  reekit  bilive. 

Her  hand  to  Sir  Oluf  sae  fair  and  free  : 
"  O  welcome,  Sir  Oluf,  come  dance  wi'  me  ! 

"  O  welcome,  Sir  Oluf!  now  lat  thy  love  gae, 
And  tread  wi'  me  in  the  dance  sae  gay." 

"  To  dance  wi'  thee  ne  dare  I,  ne  may  ; 
The  morn  it  is  my  bridal  day." 

"  O  come,  Sir  Oluf,  and  dance  wi'  me ; 
Twa  buckskin  boots  I'll  give  to  thee ; 

"  Twa  buckskin  boots,  that  sit  sae  fair, 
Wi'  gilded  spurs  sae  rich  and  rare. 

"  And  hear  ye,  Sir  Oluf!  come  dance  wi'  me ; 
And  a  silken  sark  I'll  give  to  thee  ; 

"  A  silken  sark  sae  white  and  fine, 
That  my  mother  bleached  in  the  moonshine." 


300  SIR    OLUF,    AND    THE 

"  I  darena,  I  maunna  come  dance  wi'  thee ; 
For  the  morn  my  bridal  day  maun  be." 

"  O  hear  ye,  Sir  Oluf !  come  dance  wi'  me, 
And  a  helmet  o'  goud  I'll  give  to  thee." 

"  A  helmet  o'  goud  I  well  may  ha'e  ; 
But  dance  wi'  thee  ne  dare  I,  ne  may." 

"  And  winna  thou  dance,  Sir  Oluf,  wi'  me  ? 
Then  sickness  and  pain  shall  follow  thee  ! " 

She's  smitten  Sir  Oluf— it  strak  to  his  heart ; 
He  never  before  had  kent  sic  a  smart ; 

Then  lifted  him  up  on  his  ambler  red  ; 
"  And  now,  Sir  Oluf,  ride  hame  to  thy  bride." 

And  whan  he  came  till  the  castell  yett, 
His  mither  she  stood  and  leant  thereat. 

"  O  hear  ye,  Sir  Oluf,  my  ain  dear  son, 
Whareto  is  your  lire  sae  blae  and  wan  ?  " 

"  O  well  may  my  lire  be  wan  and  blae, 
For  I  ha'e  been  in  the  elf-womens'  play." 

"  O  hear  ye,  Sir  Oluf,  my  son,  my  pride, 
And  what  shall  I  say  to  thy  young  bride  ?  " 

"  Ye'll  say,  that  I've  ridden  but  into  the  wood, 
To  prieve  gin  my  horse  and  hounds  are  good.' 


ELF-KING'S  DAUGHTER.  301 

Ear  on  the  morn,  whan  night  was  gane, 
The  bride  she  cam  wi'  the  bridal  train. 

They  skinked  the  mead,  and  they  skinked  the  wine : 
"  O  whare  is  Sir  Oluf,  bridegroom  mine  ?  "  46 

"  Sir  Oluf  has  ridden  but  into  the  wood, 
To  prieve  gin  his  horse  and  hounds  are  good." 

And  she  took  up  the  scarlet  red, 

And  there  lay  Sir  Oluf,  and  he  was  dead !  w 

Ear  on  the  morn,  whan  it  was  day, 

Three  likes  were  ta'en  frae  the  castle  away ; 

Sir  Oluf  the  leal,  and  his  bride  sae  fair, 
And  his  mither,  that  died  wi'  sorrow  and  care. 

And  lightly  the  elves  sae  feat  and  free,  « 

They  dance  all  under  the  greenwood  tree  ! 


FRAGMENT  OF  THE  DAEMON  LOVER. 
(See  p.  201.) 

(Motherwell's  Minstrelsy,  p.  il.) 

"  I  HAVE  seven  ships  upon  the  sea, 

Laden  with  the  finest  gold, 
And  mariners  to  wait  us  upon ;  — 
All  these  you  may  behold. 

"  And  I  have  shoes  for  my  love's  feet, 

Beaten  of  the  purest  gold, 
And  lined  wi'  the  velvet  soft, 
To  keep  my  love's  feet  from  the  cold. 

"  0  how  do  you  love  the  ship,"  he  said, 

"  Or  how  do  you  love  the  sea  ? 
And  how  do  you  love  the  bold  mariners 
That  wait  upon  thee  and  me  ?  " 

"  O  I  do  love  the  ship,"  she  said, 

"  And  I  do  love  the  sea  ; 
But  woe  be  to  the  dim  mariners, 
That  nowhere  I  can  see." 

They  had  not  sailed  a  mile  awa', 

Never  a  mile  but  one, 
When  she  began  to  weep  and  mourn, 

And  to  think  on  her  little  wee  son.  i 


FRAGMENT    OF    THE    DAEMON    LOVER.       303 

"  O  hold  your  tongue,  my  dear,"  he  said, 

"  And  let  all  your  weeping  abee, 
For  I'll  soon  show  to  you  how  the  lilies  grow 
On  the  banks  of  Italy." 

They  had  not  sailed  a  mile  awa',  25 

Never  a  mile  but  two, 
Until  she  espied  his  cloven  foot, 

From  his  gay  robes  sticking  thro'. 

They  had  not  sailed  a  mile  awa', 

Never  a  mile  but  three,  » 

When  dark,  dark,  grew  his  eerie  looks, 

And  raging  grew  the  sea. 

They  had  not  sailed  a  mile  awa', 

Never  a  mile  but  four, 
When  the  little  wee  ship  ran  round  about,      » 

And  never  was  seen  more  ! 


CONSTANTINE  AND  ARETE.     Seep.  217. 

WE  are  indebted  for  the  following  recension  of 
Constantine  and  Areti  to  Mr.  Sophocles  of  Harvard 
College.  It  is  constructed  from  Fauriel's  text,  com 
bined  with  a  copy  in  Zambelios's  *Aio-/zara  A^ortKa, 
and  with  a  version  taken  down  from  the  recitation  of 
a  Cretan  woman.  The  translation  is  by  the  skilful 
hand  of  Professor  Felton. 

We  may  notice  by  the  way  that  several  versions  of 
this  piece  are  given  by  Tommaseo,  in  his  Canti  Popo- 
lari  Toscani,  etc.  iii.  341. 

Mdvva  /ne  rovs  eWta  (rov  vlovs  Kal  p.e  rrj  p,id  <rov  /copy, 
Trjv  Koprj  rrj  p,ovd.KpifBr)  TTJV  TroXvayaTny/iei^, 
Trjv  flxfs  ScoSeKa  xpov&v  K   rj\ios  8ev  <rov  rrjit  e?5e, 
'2  ra  (TKOTetva  TTJV  ^Xouyes,  's  T   afpeyya  rrjv  eVXeVey, 
'2  T   acrTprj  KOI   s  TOV  avyepivo  TOT   efpxeiaves  TCI  vyovpa 

TTJS.  5 

°H  yeiTovia  dev  fj^epe  nws  f^X€S  QvyciTepa, 

Kai  Trpo^evia  crov  (pepave  CITTO  TTJ  'Ba^v\a>vrj. 

Ol  OKT&  dftepcpol  8ev  ^cXovvc,  KOI  6  Kcocrrai/rivoy  $e  Aei  • 

"  Aos  TJ/j/e,  /iai'i/a,  dos  TTJVC  TTJV  'Aper^  's  ra  ^ej/a, 
Na  '^to  AC'  eya)  Traprjyopia  's  r?)  arpara  TTOV  Sia/3aiVa)."    10 
ficrat,  Kcooraj/r;},  p,'  acr^f^  aTTiXoyrjdrjs  ' 

r)  xaP<*>  TTOIO?  6a  /JLOV  TTJVC  <f>fpj]  ;  " 
To  $eo  TJ}?  jScivfi  eyyvrrj  Kal  TOVS  ayiovs 
717  XaP"  v"  ^S  v^  T^ls  T*lv 


CONSTANTINE    AND    ARETE.  305 


Kai  adv  TTJV  enavrptyave  rrjv  'Aper^  'y  TO  ^tVa, 
"EpXfrai  xpovos  8i<re<pTos  KOI  ol  Ivvia  Tte&dvav. 
*Ep.€iV€  T]  fj.dvva  uovax*)  o~dv  KaXa/zia  'y  TOV  Kap.7ro. 
*2  TO.  O^TO)  /jLvrjuara  dcpverai,  'y  ra  o^ra>  /ivpoXoydft, 
'2  ToC  Ka>o-rai>rii/ou  TO  6a(pTib  dvecnra  TO.  /zaXXia  TT;S 
u  ~2rjKov,  KaxTTavTivaKT)  //.ou,  r^v  'Aperj]  fiou  de\a>  • 
To  $eo  /zoti  '/SaXey  eyyvrrj  Kai  rovs  ayiovs  paprvpovs, 
Av  TVXU  TTiKpa  yrj  xaP«  "«  i"?5  r" 

Kai  jLteVa  '$•  ra  yMea'afu^ra  a?r'  TO  Kifiovpi 
Kdvei  TO  crvyi>€(j)o  aXoyo,  /cat  T'  acrrpo  o~aXi/3api, 
Kai  TO  (fieyydpi,  o~WTpo(f>La  KOI  Traet  va 
Bpi'ovcei  TT^y  KOI  ^Teft^ovjTat  o£ou  '$• 

T)7J/  ^uipfTaet  Kai  dnopaKpia  rfjs  Xeyet. 
Fia  e'Xa,  'ApeTOuXa  /nov,  Kvpdva  pas  (re  ^e'Xei. 
,  dSep(paKi  /nou,  /cut  TI  '  ve  TOVT  '  17  aipa  ! 
r°  0"7Tt'rt  fta^1  ^a  /3dXa)  TO  ^pucrci  /zo 
Kai  av  TTt/cpa,  dSepcpaKt  juov,  yd  'p^co  ws  KU^CO? 


'2  TT)  o-rpdra  TTOV  diafiaivave,  's  rf]  orrpdra  nov  Trayaivav, 
'AKOVV  TrouXia  /cai  /ciXaSoui/,  d/covv  TrouXia  /cai  Xeve  • 

"Fia  Ses  KOTreXa  ofioptpr;  i/a  (repi/T/  d-rreda/jLevos  !  "     35 
"  J/A/covo~es,  KdJcrTai/TaK^  /j,ou,  TI  Xeve  TO  TrouXd/cia  ;  " 

"  IlouXd/cia  've  /cat  ay  /ciXaSoOv,  TrouXd/cia   Ve  /cat   as 

XeW." 
Kai  Trapa/cei  TroO  Trdyaii/ai'  Kai  aXXa  TrouXia  Toi»s  \eyav  • 

"  Ti  /3Xe7rov/ie  TO  ^Xi/3epa  TO  jrapaTrovefieva  ; 
Na  TrfpTraroCf  01  ^a)i/Tavoi  pe  TOUJ  dirfBa^vovs  ;  40 

"^AKovo-ej,  Kcwo-Tai'TdKT;  /LIOV,  TI  Xe^e  Ta  TrovXdxta  ;  " 
"  IIovXd/</a  'i/e  /cai  as  /ciXaSovv,  TrovXd/cia  Ve  /cai  as  Xej/€. 
ai  cr' 


K'  tBvfuntn  pas  6  TraTray  /ie  TO  TroXy  >i/3di>i." 

Kai  Trape/^TTpoy  TTOU  Trrjyave,  Kai  aXXa  TrouXia  Toi»y  Xei>f 


TeToia  rravojprja  Xuyepjy  va  (repvy  dTredap-evos  !  " 
T'  aKoucre  TrdXe  ^  ^Aperf)  K  eppdyur  fj  KapSid 
VOL.  i.  20 


306  CONSTANTINE    AND    ARETE. 


,  Kcoorai/ra/c^  juou,  rt  Xez>e  ra  7rov\a.Kia  ;       50 
Ileff  /MOU  TTOV  'i/'  ra  /zaXXaKta  trov,  TO  Trrjyovpb  p-ova-raKi  ;  " 
"  MeyaX?;  appaxma  JJL  eup^ve,  JLI'  €pprj^€  TOV  ^avarov." 

JSp'iCTKOVV  TO   (TTTITL   K\€l8(jO 

Kat  ra  cnriTOTrapddvpa  TTOV  *rav  d 

"vAvoi£e,  fj.dvva  /z',  civoi^f,  KOI  va.  rr)v  'Apery  (rou."   55 
"*Ai/  ^(rai  Xapos",  &id[3aiv€,  Kat  aXXa  TratSia  Sec  e^co  • 
CH  doXrja  'AperouXa  /nou  XeiVet  p.a.Kpia  '$•  ra  ^•ei'a." 

"vAi/oi£e,  /iaVi/a  /z',  avoi£e,  K    e'ya>  '  juai  6 

crov. 

To  ^to  o~o{J  '/3aXa  tyyvrr)  K.CU  TOVS  dyiovs  paprvpovs, 
*A.v  rvxfl  7rt'<pa  yi)  XaP"  *"*  ^^  v"  <ro^  '" 

Kat  &crT€  va  '/3y^   's  TJ  ' 

TT)S. 


CONSTANTINE  AND  ARETE. 

O  MOTHER,  thou  with  thy  nine  sons,  and  with  one 

only  daughter, 
Thine  only  daughter,  well  beloved,  the  dearest  of  thy 

children, 
For  twelve  years  thou  didst  keep  the  maid,  the  sun 

did  not  behold  her, 
Whom  in  the  darkness  thou  didst  bathe,  in  secret  braid 

her  tresses, 
And  by  the  starlight  and  the  dawn,  didst  wind  her 

curling  ringlets, 
Nor  knew  the  neighborhood  that  thou  didst  have  so 

fair  a  daughter, — 
When  came    to    thee  from  Babylon  a  woer's  soft 

entreaty : 
Eight  of  the  brothers  yielded  not,  but  Constantino 

consented. 
"  O  mother  give  thine  Arete,  bestow  her  on  the 

stranger, 
That  I  may  have  her  solace  dear  when  far  away  I 

wander." 
"  Though  thou  art  wise,  my  Constantine,  thou  hast 

unwisely  spoken : 
Be  woe  my  lot  or  be  it  joy,  who  will  restore  my 

daughter  ?  " 


308  CONST ANTINE    AND    ARETE. 

He  calls  to  witness  God  above,  he  calls  the  holy 

martyrs, 
Be  woe  her  lot,  or  be  it  joy,  he  would  restore  her 

daughter : 
And  when  they  wedded  Arete,  in  that  far  distant 

country, 
Then  comes  the  year  of  sorrowing,  and  all  the  nine 

did  perish. 
All  lonely  was  the  mother  left,  like  a  reed  alone  in 

the  meadow; 
O'er  the  eight  graves  she  beats  her  breast,  o'er  eight  is 

heard  her  wailing, 
And  at  the  tomb  of  Constantine,  she  rends  her  hair 

in  ancniish. 

"Arise,  my  Constantine,  arise,  for  Arete  I  lan 
guish  : 
On  God  to  witness  thou  didst  call,  didst  call  the  holy 

martyrs, 
Be  woe  my  lot  or  be  it  joy,  thou  wouldst  restore  my 

daughter." 
And  forth  at  midnight  hour  he  fares,  the  silent  tomb 

deserting, 
He  makes  the  cloud  his  flying  steed,  he  makes  the  star 

his  bridle, 
And  by  the  silver  moon  convoyed,  to  bring  her  home 

he  journeys : 
And  finds  her  combing  down  her  locks,  abroad  by 

silvery  moonlight, 
And  greets   the   maiden   from  afar,  and  from  afar 

bespeaks  her. 
"Arise,   my   Aretula   dear,   for  thee    our  mother 

longeth." 
"Alas!  my  brother,  what  is  this?    what  wouldst  at 

such  an  hour  ? 


CONSTANTINE    AND    ARETE.  309 

If  joy  betide  our  distant  home,  I  wear  my  golden 

raiment, 
If  woe  betide,  dear  brother  mine,  I  go  as  now  I'm 

standing." 
"  Think  not  of  joy,  think  not  of  woe- — return  as  here 

thou  standest." 
And  while  they  journey  on  the  way,  all  on  the  way 

returning, 
They  hear  the  Birds,  and  what  they  sing,  and  what  the 

Birds  are  saying. 
"  Ho  !  see  the  maiden  all  so  fair,  a  Ghost  it  is  that 

bears  her." 
"  Didst  hear  the  Birds,  my  Constantino,  didst  list  to 

what  they're  saying  ?  " 
"Yes:  they  are  Birds,  and  let  them  sing,  they're 

Birds,  and  let  them  chatter : " 
And   yonder,  as  they  journey  on,  still  other   Birds 

salute  them. 
"  What  do  we  see,  unhappy  ones,  ah !  woe  is  fallen 

on  us ; — 
Lo !  there  the  living  sweep  along,  and  with  the  dead 

they  travel." 
"  Didst  hear,  my  brother  Constantine,  what  yonder 

Birds  are  saying  ?  " 
"  Yes !  Birds  are  they,  and  let  them  sing,  they're  Birds, 

and  let  them  chatter." 
"I  fear  for  thee,  my  Brother  dear,  for  thou  dost 

breathe  of  incense." 
"  Last  evening  late  we  visited  the  church  of  Saint 

Johannes, 
And  there  the  priest  perfumed  me  o'er  with  clouds  of 

fragrant  incense." 

And  onward  as  they  hold  their  way,  still  other  Birds 
bespeak  them : 


310  CONSTANTINE    AND    ARETE. 

"  O  God,  how  wondrous  is  thy  power,  what  miracles 

thou  workest ! 
A  maid  so  gracious  and  so  fair,  a  Ghost  it  is  that 

bears  her : " 
'Twas  heard  again  by  Arete,  and  now  her  heart 

was  breaking ; 
"  Didst  hearken,  brother  Constantine,  to  what  the  Birds 

are  saying  ? 
Say  where  are  now  thy  waving  locks,  thy  strong  thick 

beard,  where  is  it  ?  " 
"  A  sickness  sore  has  me  befallen,  and  brought  me 

near  to  dying." 
They  find  the  house  all  locked  and  barred,  they  find 

it  barred  and  bolted, 
And  all  the  windows  of  the  house   with  cobwebs 

covered  over. 
'*  Unlock,  O  mother  mine,  unlock,  thine  Arete  thou 

seest." 
"  If  thou  art  Charon,  get  thee  gone — I  have  no  other 

children  : 

My  hapless  Arete  afar,  in  stranger  lands  is  dwell 
ing." 
"  Unlock,  O  mother  mine,  unlock,  thy  Constantine 

entreats  thee. 
I  called  to  witness  God  above,   I  called  the  holy 

martyrs, 
Were  woe  thy  lot,  or  were  it  joy,  I  would  restore  thy 

daughter." 
And  when  unto  the  door  she  came,  her  soul  from 

her  departed. 


THE  HAWTHORN  TREE. 

Ritson's  Ancient  Songs,  ii.  44. 

A  Mery  Ballet  of  the  Hathorne  Tre,  from  a  MS.  in 
the  Cotton  Library,  Vespasian,  A.  xxv.  The  MS.  has 
"  G.  Peele  "  appended  to  it,  but  in  a  hand  more  mod 
ern  than  the  ballad.  Mr.  Dyce,  with  very  good  reason, 
"  doubts  "  whether  Peele  is  the  author  of  the  ballad, 
but  has  printed  it,  Peele's  Works,  ii.  256.  It  is  given 
also  by  Evans,  i.  342,  and  partly  in  Chappell's  Popu 
lar  Music,  i.  64. 

The  true  character  of  this  piece  would  never  be 
suspected  by  one  reading  it  in  English.  The  same  is 
true  of  the  German,  where  the  ballad  is  very  common, 
and  much  prettier  than  in  English,  e.  g.  Das  Madchen 
und  die  Hasel,  Das  Madchen  und  der  Sagebaum, 
Erk's  Liederhort,  No.  33,  five  copies  ;  Hoffmann, 
Schlesische  Volkslieder,  No.  100,  three  copies,  etc.  In 
Danish  and  Swedish  we  find  a  circumstantial  story : 
Jomfruen  i  Linden,  Grundtvig,  No.  66 ;  Linden,  Sven- 
ska  Folkvisor,  No.  87.  The  tree  is  an  enchanted 
damsel,  one  of  eleven  children  transformed  by  a  step 
mother  into  various  less  troublesome  things,  and  the 
spell  can  be  removed  only  by  a  kiss  from  the  king's 
son.  By  the  intervention  of  the  maiden,  this  rite  is 
performed,  and  the  beautiful  linden  is  changed  to  as 
beautiful  a  young  woman,  who  of  course  becomes  the 


312  THE    HAWTHORN   TREE. 

prince's  bride.  A  Wendish  ballad  resembling  the 
German  is  given  by  Haupt  and  Schmaler,  and  ballads 
akin  to  the  Danish,  are  found  in  Slovensk  and  Lith 
uanian  (see  Grundtvig). 

IT  was  a  maide  of  my  countre, 
As  she  came  by  a  hathorne-tre, 
As  full  of  flowers  as  might  be  seen, 
'  She  '  merveld  to  se  the  tree  so  grene. 

At  last  she  asked  of  this  tre,  5 

"  Howe  came  this  freshness  unto  the, 
And  every  branche  so  faire  and  cleane  ? 
I  mervaile  that  you  growe  so  grene." 

The  tre  <  made  '  answere  by  and  by  : 

"  I  have  good  causse  to  growe  triumphantly ;  10 

The  swetest  dewe  that  ever  be  sene 

Doth  fall  on  me  to  kepe  me  grene." 

"  Yea,"  quoth  the  maid,  "  but  where  you  growe, 
You  stande  at  hande  for  every  blowe  ; 
Of  every  man  for  to  be  seen  ;  is 

I  mervaile  that  you  growe  so  grene." 

"  Though  many  one  take  flowers  from  me, 
And  manye  a  branche  out  of  my  tre, 
I  have  suche  store  they  wyll  not  be  sene,         is 
For  more  and  more  my  Hwegges'  growe  grene." 

20.    twedges. 


THE    HAWTHORN    TREE.  313 

"  But  howe  and  they  chaunce  to  cut  the  downe, 
And  carry  thie  braunches  into  the  towne  ? 
Then  will  they  never  no  more  be  sene 
To  growe  againe  so  freshe  and  grene." 

"  Though  that  you  do,  yt  ys  no  boote  ;  as 

Althoughe  they  cut  me  to  the  roote, 

Next  yere  againe  I  will  be  sene 

To  bude  my  branches  freshe  and  grene. 

"  And  you,  faire  malde,  canne  not  do  so ; 

For  yf  you  let  youre  maid-hode  goe;  » 

Then  will  yt  never  no  more  be  sene, 

As  I  with  my  braunches  can  growe  grene." 

The  maide  wyth  that  beganne  to  blushe, 
And  turned  her  from  the  hathorne-bushe  ; 
She  though  [t]e  herselffe  so  faire  and  clene,      35 
Her  bewtie  styll  would  ever  growe  grene. 

Whan  that  she  harde  this  marvelous  dowbte, 
She  wandered  styll  then  all  aboute, 
Suspecting  still  what  she  would  wene, 
Her  maid-heade  lost  would  never  be  seen.        40 

Wyth  many  a  sighe,  she  went  her  waye, 
To  se  howe  she  made  herselff  so  gay, 
To  walke,  to  se,  and  to  be  sene, 
And  so  out-faced  the  hathorne  grene. 


314  THE    HAWTHORN    TREE. 

Besides  all  that,  yt  put  her  in  feare  4 

To  talke  with  companye  anye  where, 
For  feare  to  losse  the  thinge  that  shuld  be  sene 
To  growe  as  were  the  hathorne  grene. 

But  after  this  never  could  I  here 

Of  this  faire  mayden  any  where,  • 

That  ever  she  was  in  forest  sene 

To  talke  againe  of  the  hathorne  grene. 


ST.  STEPHEN  AND  HEROD. 


Ritson's  Ancient  Songs,  i.  141,  Sandys's  Christmas  Carols,  p. 
4:  from  the  Sloane  MS.,  No.  2593  (temp.  Hen.  VI.) 


This  curious  little  ballad  was  sung  as  a  carol  for  St. 
Stephen's  Day.  Its  counterpart  is  found  in  Danish 
(though  not  in  an  ancient  form),  printed  in  Erik  Pon- 
toppidan's  book  on  the  relics  of  Heathenism  and  Pa 
pistry  in  Denmark,  1736  (Jesusbarnet,  Stefan,  og 
Herodes,  Grundtvig,  No.  96).  There  is  also  a  similar 
ballad  in  Faroish.  Only  a  slight  trace  of  the  story  is 
now  left  in  the  Swedish  Staffans  Visa  (Scenska  F.  F., 
No.  99),  which  is  sung  as  a  carol  on  St.  Stephen's  Day, 
as  may  very  well  have  been  the  case  with  the  Danish 
and  Faroish  ballads  too. 

The  miracle  of  the  roasted  cock  occurs  in  many 
other  legends.  The  earliest  mention  of  it  is  in  Vin 
cent  of  Beauvais's  Speculum  Historiale,  L.  xxv.  c.  64. 
It  is  commonly  ascribed  to  St.  James,  sometimes  to  the 
Virgin.  (See  the  preface  to  the  ballad  in  Grundtvig, 
and  to  Sou  they 's  Pilgrim  to  Compostella.)  We  meet 
with  it  in  another  English  carol  called  The  Carnal  * 
and  the  Crane,  printed  in  Sandys's  collection,  p.  152, 
from  a  broadside  copy,  corrupt  and  almost  unintelli- 

*  crow  ? 


316  ST.    STEPHEN   AND    HEROD. 

gible  in  places.     The  stanzas  which  contain  the  mir 
acle  are  the  following  : 

There  was  a  star  in  the  West  land, 

So  bright  it  did  appear 
Into  King  Herod's  chamber, 

And  where  King  Herod  were. 

The  Wise  Men  soon  espied  it, 

And  told  the  king  on  high, 
A  princely  babe  was  born  that  night 

No  king  could  e'er  destroy. 

"  If  this  be  true,"  King  Herod  said, 

"As  thou  tellest  unto  me, 
This  roasted  cock  that  lies  in  the  dish 

Shall  crow  full  fences  *  three." 

The  cock  soon  freshly  feather' d  was, 

By  the  work  of  God's  own  hand, 
And  then  three  fences  crowed  he, 

In  the  dish  where  he  did  stand. 

"  Rise  up,  rise  up,  you  merry  men  all, 

See  that  you  ready  be ; 
All  children  under  two  years  old 

Now  slain  they  all  shall  be." 

SEYNT  STEVENE  was  a  clerk  in  kyng  Herowdes 

halle, 
And  servyd  him  of  bred  and  cloth,  as  ever  kyng 

befalle. 

Stevyn   out  of   kechon   cam,  wyth  boris  bed  on 

honde  ; 
He  saw  a  sterr  was  fayr  and  bryght  over  Bedlem 

stonde. 

*  rounds  ?  2.  befalle,  befell 


ST.    STEPHEN    AND    HEROD.  317 

He  kyst  adoun  the  bores  hed,  and  went  into  the 
halle :  * 

"  I  forsake  the,  kyng  Herowdes,  and  thi  werkes 
alle. 

"  I  forsak  the,  kyng  Herowdes,  and  thi  werkes  alle : 
Ther  is  a  chyld  in  Bedlem  born  is  beter  than  we 
alle." 

"  Quhat  eylyt  the,  Stevene  ?  quhat  is  the  befalle  ? 
Lakkyt   the   eyther    mete    or    drynk    in    kyng 
Herowdes  halle?" 

"  Lakit   me   neyther   mete   ne    drynk    in    kyng 

Herowdes  halle : 
Ther  is  a  chyld  in  Bedlem  born  is  beter  than  we 

alle." 

"  Quhat  eylyt  the,  Stevyn  ?  art  thu  wod,  or  thu 

gynnyst  to  brede  ? 
Lakkyt  the  eythar  gold  or  fe,  or  ony  ryche  wede  ?  " 

"  Lakyt  '  me '  neyther  gold  ne  fe,  ne  non  ryche 
wede ;  15 

Ther  is  a  chyld  in  Bedlem  born  xal  helpen  us  at 
our  nede." 

"  That  is  al  so  soth,  Stevyn,  al  so  soth,  i-wys, 
As  this  capon  crowe  xal  that  lyth  her  in  myn  dysh." 

5.  kyst,  cast.  9.  eylyt,  aileth.  13.  wod,  mad:  gynnyst  to 
brede,  beginnest  to  entertain  capricious  fancies,  like  a  woman, 
&c.  14.  fe,  wages:  wede,  clothes.  15.  ne,  nor.  16.  xall, 
shall.  17.  soth,  true:  i-wys,  for  a  certainty. 


318  ST.    STEPHEN    AND    HEROD. 

That  word  was  not  so  sone  seyd,  that  word  in  that 

halle, 
The  capon  crew,  CHRISTUS  NATUS  EST!  among 

the  lordes  alle.  20 

"  Rysyt  up,  myn  turmentowres,  be  to  and  al  be 

on, 
And  ledyt  Stevyn  out  of  this  town,  and  stonyt 

hym  wyth  ston." 

Tokyn  he  Stevene,  and  stonyd  hym  in  the  way ; 
And  therefor  is  his  evyn  on  Crystes  owyn  day. 

21.  be  to,  by  two.  23.  he,  they. 


GLOSSARY. 

Q^"  Figures  placed  after  words  denote  the  pages  in  which 
they  occur. 


a,  one. 

at,  296,  of. 

a',  all 

atteynt,  seize. 

abee,  abene,  be. 

aught,  oioed. 

aboon,  abune,  above. 

avanse,  gain,  succeed. 

aby,  pay  for. 

avow,  vow. 

ae,  only,  sole. 

awa,  away. 

ae,  aye,  still. 

awenn,  own. 

ahin,  behind. 

ay,  a. 

aim,  iron. 

ayont,  beyond. 

aid,  old. 

all  and  some,  each  and  all. 

ba',  batt. 

als,  as. 

backefysyke,  22. 

als,  a&o. 

bade,  prayed  for. 

ance,  anes,  once. 

bade,  abode,  staid. 

appone,  upon. 

bairnly,  childlike. 

araye,  order. 

bald,  bold. 

arblast-bow,  cross-bow. 

bale,  blaze,  fire. 

are,  before. 

bale,  harme,  ruin,  sorrow. 

arena,  are  not. 

ban',  bound. 

arighte,  laid  hold  of. 

bane,  bone. 

armorie,  237,  band  of  armed 

bankers,    276,   coverings  for 

men. 

benches. 

asey,  assay. 

bann,  curse. 

ask,  newt,  a  kind  of  lizard. 

barn,  child,  wight. 

askryede,  described. 

beck,  stream. 

asurd,  azured,  blue. 

bedone,  8,  bedecked. 

320 


GLOSSARY. 


begane,  bedecked. 

begynne  the  bord,  sit  at  the 
head  of  the  table. 

ben,  in. 

ben,  prompt,  ready. 

bent,  plain,  field,  (from  the 
coarse  grass  growing  on 
open  lands);  bentis,  bents, 
coarse  grass. 

beryde,  98,  cried,  made  a  noise. 

bese,  will  or  shall  be. 

best  man,  bride's,  85,  brides 
man,  (corresponding  to  the 
best  maid,  or  bridesmaid). 

bestedde,  circumstanced. 

bi,  be. 

bierly,  148,  proper,  becoming, 
comfortable. 

bigg,  build. 

bilive,  quickly. 

Billy  Blind,  or  Billy  Blin, 
a  Broumie,  or  domestic 
fairy. 

binkes,  benches. 

bird,  lady. 

birk,  birch. 

birled,  211,  poured  out  drink, 
or  drunk. 

blae,  livid. 

blee,  color,  complexion. 

blewe,  99,  sounded  a  horn. 

blin,  blyn,  stop,  cease. 

bogle,  spectre,  goblin. 

bone,  boon. 

boome,  287.  Qy.  goome,  man  ? 

bord,  table. 

borrow,  stand  surety  for,  ran 
som,  rescue. 

bouir,  chamber,  dwelling. 


boun,  boon. 

boun,  ready ;  make  ye  boun, 
289,  boun,  187,  go  straight 
way. 

bourdes,  jests. 

boure,  bower,  chamber. 

bouted,  bolted. 

bown,  ready,  ready  to  go. 

bowrd,  jest. 

brade,  broad. 

brae,  hill-side. 

brast,  burst. 

brayd,  started,  turned. 

braw,  brave,  fine. 

bree,  brow. 

brening,  burning. 

brent,  burnt. 

brether,  26,  brethren. 

bricht,  bright. 

brimes,  waters. 

britled,  15,  brittened,  106,  cut 
up,  carved. 

brok,  brook. 

broom-cow,  bush  of  broom. 

brook,  enjoy,  preserve. 

brues,  brows. 

brunt,  burnt. 

bryste,  burst. 

bne,  234,  235,  fair  f 

bugyle,  horn. 

bunge,  239  ? 

buntin,  buntlin,  blackbird;  al. 
wood-lark. 

burd,  maid,  lady. 

burd-alane,  alone. 

Burlow-beanie,  241,  name  of 
a  fiend  or  spirit. 

burn,  brook. 

busk,  dress,  make  ready. 


GLOSSARY. 


321 


but,  203,  and;  but  and,  and 

also. 

by  and  by,  straightway. 
bydeene,  13,  continuously,  in 

numbers. 
byggis,  builds. 
bygone,  bedecked. 
byhouys,  behoves. 
byleve,  98,  remain. 
byrde,  lady. 
oyre,  cow-house. 
byrnande,  burning. 
byteche,  commit. 

ca',  call. 

can,  (sometimes  gan,)  used  as 
an  auxiliary  with  an  infini 
tive  mood,  to  express  the  past 
tense  of  a  verb. 

carknet,  necklace. 

carline,  female  of  churl,  old 


carlist,  37,  churlish. 

carp,  talk,  tell  stories. 

cast,  planned. 

chalmer,  chamber. 

channerin',  fretting. 

chere,  countenance. 

chese,  choose. 

chess,  jess,  strap. 

chewys,  choosest. 

chiel,  child,  young  man. 

christendame,    christendoun, 

christening. 

christentye,  Christendom. 
claes,  clothes. 
clapping,  fondling. 
clear,    clere,    fair,    morally 

pure. 

VOL.  i.  21 


cockward,  cuckold. 

coft,  bought. 

coiffer,  260,  coif,  head-dress, 
cap? 

cold,  could,  knew ;  used  as  an 
auxiliary  with  the  infinitive 
to  express  a  past  tense;  e.  g. 
he  cold  fling,  he  flung. 

coleyne,  Collen,  Cologne  steel. 

com'nye,  237,  communing,  dis 
course. 

compass,  circle. 

compenabull,  21,  sociable,  ad 
mitting  to  participation. 

coost,  coosten,  cast. 

couth,  could,  knew,  understood. 

covent,  convent. 

cow-me-doo,  171,  like  cur- 
doo,  name  for  a  dove,  from 
its  cooing. 

craftelike,  craftily. 

crapote",  99.  Qy.  cramasee, 
crimson  ? 

cropoure,  crupper. 

crowt,  12,  curl  up. 

crystiante,  Christendom. 

cure,  279,  till. 

dag-durk,  dagger,  dirk. 

damasee,  damson. 

dang,  beat,  struck. 

dasse,  dais,  raised  platform. 

daunton,  daunt. 

decay,  destruction. 

dee,  die. 

dee,  do. 

deid,  death. 

dele,  dell,  part. 

deUe,  101,  dally. 


322 


GLOSSARY. 


dere,  harm. 

derne,  secret. 

des,  dese,  dais,  elevated  plat 
form. 

devyse,  direction. 

deynteous,  dainty. 

dight,  225,  placed,  involved. 

dight  (corn),  winnow. 

dinne,  12,  trouble,  circum 
stance. 

distans,  23,  dissension,  strife. 

done,  do. 

doo,  dove. 

doubt,  dout,  fear. 

dought,  could,  might ;  112, 
may,  am  able. 

dow,  could. 

dowie,  mournful,  doleful. 

dree,  suffer. 

drest,  arranged. 

drumlie,  troubled,  gloomy. 

dryssynge,  dressing. 

dule,  sorrow,  trouble. 

dullfull,  doleful 

dyght,  dygzht,  adorned,  ar 
rayed,  dressed, 

ear,  soon,  early. 

eerie,  eiry,  fearful,  producing 

superstitious  dread. 
eghne,  eyes. 
eglis,  eagle's. 
elde,  eldren,  old. 
Elfin,  262,  'Elf-land. 
elritch,  elvish. 
endres-daye,    98,    past-day  f 

other  day  ?    See  Halliwell's 

Dictionary. 
"Of  my  fortune,  how  it  ferde, 


This  endir  day,  as  y  forth 

ferde." 
erdelik,  275,  earthly.    (Finlay, 

"clidelik.") 
erlish,  elvish. 
esk,  newt. 

etin  (Danish  jette),  giant. 
even  cloth,  113,  fine  cloth? 
everlk,  every. 
everychon,  every  one. 

faem,  foam. 

faine,  desire. 

faine,  glad. 

fairest,  forest. 

fand,  found. 

fare,  go. 

farer,  further. 

fawte,  want. 

fayrse,  farce. 

feat,  neat,  dexterous,  nimble. 

fee,  100,  animals,  deer ;  107, 
rent,  tribute. 

feed,  same  as  food,  fud,  crea 
ture,  man,  woman,  or  child. 

feires,  companions,  mates. 

fele,  many. 

fell,  hill,  moor. 

ferli,  275,  fairly  ? 

ferlie,  ferly,  wonder. 

ferlich,  wondrous. 

fernie,  covered  with  fern. 

fet,  fette,  fetched. 

fethill,  fiddle. 

fforthi,  therefore. 

fifthen,  fifth. 

fil,  fell 

first  ane,  first. 

firth,  (frith,)  wood 


GLOSSARY. 


323 


fize,  274,  Jive. 

flang,  flung. 

flaugh,  flew. 

flaw,  175,  lie. 

fleer,  floor. 

fley'd,  frightened. 

flone,  arrow. 

fode,  creature,  child. 

fond,  try,  make  trial. 

fonde,  found. 

forbye,  aside. 

fordoo,  destroy. 

foremost  man,  158,  (like  best 

man),  bridesman. 
forowttyn,  without. 
forteynd,  happened. 
forther,  further. 
forthi,  therefore. 
fowles,  birds. 
fraine,  question. 
free,  275,  lord,  253,  lady. 
free,  freely,  noble,  lovely. 
frem,  strange. 
freyry,  fraternity. 
frowte,  fruit. 
fu',  full. 

fundyd,  275,  went. 
fytt,  canto,  division  of  a  song. 


gad,  bar. 

gae,  gave. 
gae,  go,  going. 
gait,  nae,  no  way,  no 
galid,  276,  sang  ? 
gangande,  going. 
gar,  make,  cause. 
gare,  193,  strip. 
garthes,  girths. 
gate,  225,  way. 


gesing,  276,  guessing ;  or,  de 
sire,  A.  Sax.  gitsung? 

getterne,  gittern,  kind  of  harp. 

ghesting,  lodging,  hospitable 
reception. 

gied,  went. 

gien,  given. 

gin,  giue,  if. 

gleed,  a  burning  coal. 

glided,  274.     Qy.  gilded? 

glint,  gleam. 

gon,  begun,  performed. 

gon,  went. 

goud,  gold. 

goupen,  the  hollow  of  the  hand 
contracted  to  receive  any 
thing. 

go  wan,  flower. 

gowd,  gold. 

gowden,  golden. 

gown  of  green,  got  on  the,  259, 
was  with  child. 

gravil,  260? 

gree,  favor,  prize. 

green'd,  longed. 

greet,  weep. 

grew,  gray. 

groom,  man,  young  man. 

gule,  red. 

gurlie,  stormy,  surly. 

gyne,  device. 

ha',  hall. 
had,  hold,  keep. 
hailsed,  saluted. 
halch,  salute,  embrace. 
hallow,  hollow. 

Hallowe'en,  120,  the  eve  of 
Att-Saints'  day,  supposed  to 


324 


GLOSSARY. 


be  peculiarly  favorable  for 
intercourse  with  the  invisi 
ble  world,  all  fairies,  witch 
es,  and  ghosts  being  then 
abroad. 

hals,    halse,    neck  ;     halsed, 
greeted. 

haly,  holy. 

hame,  home. 

hap,  cover. 

harde,  heard. 

harns,  brains ;  harn-pan,  skull 

hate,  hat. 

hat,  hit. 

haud,  hold. 

haved,  had. 

heal,  conceal. 

heathennest,     heathynesse, 
234,  heathendom. 

hegehen,  eyes. 

hegh,  high  ;  heghere,  higher. 

hem,  them. 

hende,  handsome,  gentle. 

hent,  took. 

herbere,  arbor,  orchard. 

herme,  harm. 

hethyn,  107,  hence. 

hett,  bid. 

heved,  head. 

hi,  275,  /. 

high-coll' d,  high-cut. 

hind,  gentie. 

hind,  180,  stripling. 

him  lane,  alone. 

hingers,  hangings. 

him,  corner. 

hith,  hight,  is  called. 

hollen,  holly. 

hore,  hoar,  hoary. 


hose,  238,  clasp. 

howkit,  dug. 

howm,  holm  ;  level,  low  ground 

on  the  bank  of  a  stream. 
hunt's-ha',  hunting-lodge. 
hye,  in,  in  haste  ;  23,  perhaps 

aloud. 

hyghte,  bid  ;  was  called. 
hynde,  youth,  stripling,  swain. 
hyJe,  in,  20,  in  haste,  of  a  sud 

den. 


iknow,  known. 

ilka,  each. 

ilke,  same. 

inow^e,  enough. 

intill,  into,  upon. 

iralle,  99.  Qu.  rialle,  royal  f 

jawes,   227,  dashes  ;  jawp'd, 

257,  dashed,  spattered. 
jelly,  jolly,  pleasant. 
jimp,  slender,  neat. 
jolly,  pretty,  gay. 

kaim,  comb. 

kane,  rent. 

karp,  talk,  relate  stories. 

kemb,  comb. 

ken,  know. 

keppit,  caught,  kept. 

kevels,  lots. 

kiest,  cast. 

kilted,  tucked. 

kin',  kind  of. 

kindly,  236,  "good  old"  ? 

kirk,  church. 

kist,  chest. 


GLOSSARY. 


325 


knave-bairn,  male  child. 
knicht,  knight. 

laidley,  loathly,  loathsome. 

laigh-coll'd,  low-cut. 

laith,  loath. 

lane,  alone ;  joined  with  pro 
nouns,  as,  my  lane,  his 
lane,  her  lane,  their  lane, 
myself  alone,  $c. 

lang,  to  think,  originally,  to 
seem  long,  then  to  be  weary, 
feel  ennui. 

lapande,  lapping. 

lappered,  coagulated,  clotted. 

lat,  latten,  let. 

lauchters,  locks. 

laverock,  lark. 

leal,  loyal,  chaste. 

leccam,  body. 

lede,  lead. 

lee,  lie. 

leesome,  pleasant,  sweet. 

leffe,  22,  leave  ? 

lere,  lore,  doctrine ;  learn. 

les,  lesyng,  lying,  lie. 

lesse  and  more,  smaller  and 
greater. 

lett,  lette,  hinder,  hinderance ; 
delay;  withouten lette,  for 
a  certainty. 

leuedys,  ladies. 

leuer,  liefer,  rather. 

leu^e,  laughed. 

leven,  111,  lawn. 

levin,  lightning. 

ley-land,  lea-land,  not  ploughed. 

licht,  light. 

lichted,  lighted. 


lift,  air. 

likes,  dead  bodies. 

lingcam,  148,  body,  =  leccam  ? 

linger,  longer. 

link,  walk  briskly ;  arm  in  arm. 

lire,  face,  countenance. 

lith,  275,  supple,  limber. 

lithe,  listen. 

lodlye,  loathly. 

loffe,  love. 

loof,  hollow  of  the  hand. 

loot,  bow. 

loot,  let. 

loun,  loon. 

louted,  lowed. 

lown,  lone. 

low^he,  laughed,  smiled. 

luifsomely,  lovingly. 

luppen,  leapt. 

lygge,  lay. 

lyggande,  lying. 

lyle,  little. 

lystnys,  listen. 

lyth,  member,  limb. 

mae,  more. 
maen,  moan. 
maik,  mate. 
makane,  making. 
mane,  moan. 
mansworn,  perjured. 
marrow,  mate. 
maste,  most,  greatest. 
maun,  must. 
maunna,  may  not. 
mawys,  mavis,  singing  thrush. 
may,  maid. 

medill-erthe,  earth,  the  upper- 
world. 


326 


GLOSSARY. 


mekill,  great,  large. 

mell,  mallet. 

melou.de,  melody. 

mensked,  276,  honored. 

menyde,  moaned. 

merks,  marks. 

merk-soot,  274,  mark-shot,  dis 
tance  between  bow-marks.  — 
Finlay. 

merrys,  marrest. 

mese,  mess,  meal. 

micht,  might. 

middle-eard,  the  upper  world, 
placed  between  the  nether 
regions  and  the  sky. 

minded,  remembered. 

minion,  Jine,  elegant. 

mirk,  dark. 

mith,  might. 

mode,  passion,  energy. 

mody,  courageous. 

mold,  mould,  earth,  ground. 

montenans,  amount. 

more,  greater. 

most,  greatest. 

moth,  might. 

mother-naked,  naked  as  at 
one's  birth. 

mouthe,  might. 

muckle,  much. 

Mungo,  St.,  St.  Kentigem. 

my  lane,  alone. 

mykel,  much. 

na,  not;  namena,  name  not,  $c. 
nay,  denial. 
neist,  next. 

newfangle,  9,  (trifling,  incon 
stant),  light,  loose. 


niest,  next,  nearest,  close. 
noth,  nouth,  not. 
nouther,  noyther,  neither. 

on,  in. 

on  ane,  anon. 

one,  on,  in. 

onie,  any. 

or,  ere,  before. 

orfare",  99,  embroidery. 

Oryence,  Orient. 

oure,  over. 

over  one,  23,  in  a  company,  to 
gether  ?  See  Jamieson's 
Scottish  Dictionary,  in  v. 
ouer  ane. 

owre,  over,  too. 

owreturn,  refrain. 

pae,  peacock. 

paines,  penance. 

pall,  rich  cloth. 

palmer,  pilgrim. 

papeioyes,  popinj  ays. 

parde,  par  dieu. 

pautit,  paw,  beat  with  the  foot. 

pay,  237,  pleasure,  satisfac 
tion. 

paye,  104,  content. 

payetrelle,  99,  (otherwise,  pa- 
trel,  poitrail,  pectorale,  &c. } 
a  steel  plate  for  the  protec 
tion  of  a  horse's  chest. 

payrelde,  apparelled. 

perde",  par  dieu. 

perelle,  pearl. 

pile,  260,  down,  sometimes 
tender  leaves. 

plas,  19,  place,  palace. 


GLOSSARY. 


327 


plyjt,  plight,  promise. 

poterner,  8,  pouch,  purse. 
Rightly  corrected  by  Percy 
from  poterver.  See  p'iuton- 
niere,  pontonaria,  and  pan- 
tonarius,  in  HenscheVs  ed. 
of  Ducnnge. 

pou,  pull. 

prest,  priest. 

prieve,  prove. 

prink'd,  prinn'd,  adorned, 
drest  up,  made  neat. 

pristly,  earnestly. 

propine,  gift. 

raches,  scenting  hounds. 

radde,  quick,  quickly. 

rair,  roar. 

rashing,  striking  like  a  boar. 

rathely,  quickly. 

raught,  reached. 

rauine,  beasts  of  chase,  prey. 

redd,  22,  explained. 

rede,  counsel. 

reekit,  299,  steamed. 

reele  bone,  99,  an  unknown 
material,  of  which  saddles, 
especially,  are  in  the  ro 
mances  said  to  be  made ; 
called  variously,  rewel-bone, 
( Cant.  Tales,  13,807,)  rowel- 
bone,  reuylle-bone,  and 
(  Young  Bekie,  voL  iv.  12) 
royal-bone. 

reet,  root. 

reme,  kingdom. 

retininge,  running. 

repreve,  reprove,  deride. 

re  we,  take  pity. 


ridand,  riding. 

rived,  233,  (arrived,)  travelled. 

rought,    route,    rowte,    rout, 

band,   company. 
routh,  plenty. 
row,  roll,  wrap. 
rown-tree,  mountain-ash. 
rudd,  complexion. 
rybybe,  kind  of  jiddle. 
ryn,  run. 
rysse,  rise. 

safe-guard,  a  riding-skirt. 

saghe,  saw. 

saikless,  guiltless. 

sained,  crossed,  consecrated. 

sail,  shall. 

same,  25,  some,  each. 

sark,  shirt. 

sathe,  sooth,  truth. 

saw,  saying,  tale. 

sawtrye,  psaltery. 

scathe,  damage. 

schane,  shone. 

scho,  she. 

schone,  shoes. 

scort,  short. 

sculd,  should. 

seannachy,  genealogist,  bard, 

or  story-teller. 
seek, sack. 
sekirlye,  truly. 
selle,  saddle. 
senne,  since. 
sere,  sore. 
seres,  sires,  sirs. 
sey,  18,  v.  29,  saw. 
share,  193,  slip,  strip. 
shathmont,    126,     [A.     Sax. 


328 


GLOSSARY. 


scaeftmund,]  a  measure 
from  the  top  of  the  extended 
thumb  to  the  utmost  part  of 
the  palm,  six  inches. 

shee,  166,  shoe. 

sheede,  spill. 

sheeld-bones,      blade-bones, 
shoulder-blades. 

sheen,  bright. 

sheen,  shoes. 

sheep's-silver,  mica. 

shent,    injured,    abused ;    48, 
shamed. 

sheugh,  furrow,  ditch. 

sic,  such. 

sichin',  sighing. 

sicken,  such. 

skaith,  harm. 

skaith,  [qy.  skail?]  136,  save, 
keep  innocent  of. 

skill,  but  a,  371,  only  reasona 
ble? 

skinked,  poured  out. 

sky  sett  in,  262,  for  sunset  or 


skyll,  reason,  manner,  mat 
ter. 

slae,  sloe. 

slawe,  slain. 

slichting,  slighting. 

smert,  quickly. 

snell,  quick,  keen. 

solace,  solas,  recreation,  sport. 

sooth,  soth,  truth  ;  sothely, 
truly. 

soth,  276,  sweet. 

soun,  sound. 

speed,  11,  fare. 

spier,  ask. 


spylle,  destroy. 

stappin',  148,  stopping. 

stark,  strong. 

start,  started. 

stefly,  thickly. 

stered,  guided. 

stern    light,    112,    light    of 

stars. 

stiffe,  29,  strong,  stout. 
stinted,  stopped. 
store,  big,  strong. 
stown,  stolen. 
stowre,  strong,  brave. 
straiked,  stroaked. 
strak,  struck. 

stratlins,  183,  straddlings  ? 
streek,  stretch. 
sture,  155,  big,  strong. 
stythe,  stead,  place. 
suire,  neck. 
suld,  should. 
swick,  blame. 
swilled,  242,  shook,  as  in  rins- 

ing. 

swoghyne,  103,  soughing. 
swylke,  such. 
syde,  long. 
syen,  since. 

syke,  rivulet,  marshy  bottom. 
sykerly,  sykerlyke,  certainly, 

truly. 

syne,  then. 
syth,  times. 
sythen,  since. 

tabull  dormounte,  19,  stand 
ing  table,  the  fixed  table  at 
the  end  of  the  hall.  (?) 

tae,  toe. 


GLOSSARY. 


329 


taiken,  token. 

tee,  to. 

teind,  tithe. 

tene,  grief,  sorrow,  loss,  harm. 

tente,  attention,  heed;  takis 
gude  tente,  give  good  atten 
tion  to. 

tett,  109,  lock  [of  hair.] 

thae,  those. 

than,  then. 

thar,  where. 

thar,  275,  it  needs. 

then,  than. 

think  lang,  to  be  weary,  impa 
tient. 

thir,  these,  those. 

tho,  then. 

thoghte,  seemed. 

thoth,  thouch,  thouth,  though. 

thought  lang,  seemed  long; 
grew  weary,  felt  ennui. 

thouth,  274,  seemed. 

throw,  short  time,  while. 

thrubchandler,  237  ? 

tide,  time. 

till,  to. 

tirled  at  the  pin,  trilled,  or 
rattled,  at  the  door-pin,  01* 
latch,  to  obtain  admission. 

tither,  the  other. 

tod,  fox. 

toute,  22.    See  Chaucer. 

touting,  tooting. 

travayle,  labor. 

traye,  104,  suffering,  [dree?] 

tree,  wood,  staff. 

trew,  trow. 

tryst,  appointment,  assignation. 

twal,  twelve. 


twan,  twined. 

twine,  part,  deprive  of. 

tyde,  time. 

tyte,  promptly,  quick. 

unco,  strangely,  very. 

vanes,  flags. 
venerye,  hunting. 
vent,  went. 
verament,  truly. 
villanye,  vilony,  disgrace. 
vntill,  unto. 

vones,  (wones,)  dwellest. 
vytouten,  without. 

wa',  wall. 

wace,  wax. 

wad,  pledge. 

wad,  212,  waded. 

wadded,  9,  wood-colored,  blue. 

wadna,  would  not. 

wae,  waefu',  waesome,  sor 
rowful,  sad. 

waif,  straying. 

wald,  would. 

walker,  10,  fuller. 

wall-wight  men,  176,  picked 
(waled)  strong  men,  war 
riors:  see  vol.  vi.,  p.  220, 
v.  15. 

wan  afore,  255,  came  before. 

wane,  dwelling. 

war,  where. 

ware  of,  to  be,  to  perceive. 

warld's  maike,  264,  compan 
ion  for  life. 

warluck,  a  wizard,  a  man  in 
league  with  the  devil. 


330 


GLOSSARY. 


warsled,  wrestled,  struggled. 

warwolf,  werwolf,  manwolf. 

wat,  wet. 

waught,  draught. 

wauking,  walking. 

waylawaye,  alas. 

wee,  little. 

weiest,  254,  [Jamieson,]  sad 
dest,  darkest. 

weird,  fate. 

weird,  destine. 

wend,  iceened. 

wer,  were,  war. 

wern,  refuse. 

werre,  worse. 

werryed,  worried. 

wesch,  wash. 

wete,  weten,  knowing. 

whareto,  wherefore. 

wharfrae,  whence. 

whereas,  where. 

wi,  with. 

wicht,  strong,  nimble. 

wide,  199,  wade. 

widershins,  the  contrary  way, 
the  way  contrary  to  the 
course  of  the  sun. 

wide-whare,  widely,  far  and 
near. 

wierd,  fate. 

wight,  strong,  active,  nim 
ble. 

wilder' d,  carried  astray. 

win,  go  to,  attain ;  win  up, 
get  up. 

win,  rescue. 

wind  blows  in  your  glove, 
67? 

winna,  wiO,  not. 


wistna,  knew  not. 

wit,  know,  knowledge. 

wittering,  information. 

witti,  intelligible. 

wodewale,  woodpecker. 

woe,  sad. 

won,  dwell. 

wonige,  275,  [adj.  qy.  won- 
ing?]  dwelling. 

wood,  mad. 

worth,  276,  become,  be  the  re- 
suU. 

worthy,  I  were,  26,  it  would 
become  me. 

wow,  exclamation  of  astonish 
ment  or  grief. 

wpe,  up. 

wrebbe,  98  ;  wrebbe  and 
wrye,  turn  and  twist  ? 

wrought,  240,  for  raught, 
reached. 

wrucked  up,  240,  throion  up. 

wrye,  98,  wrebbe  and  wrye, 
turn  and  twist  ? 

wud,  wood. 

wull,  253,  wandering  in  igno 
rance  of  one's  course,  lost  in 
error,  bewildered. 

wylos,  willows. 

wyndouten,  without. 

wyne-berye,  grape. 

wysse,  wise. 

wyt,  with. 

wyte,  136,  blame. 

wyth,  276,  wight,  agile. 

wytouten,  without. 

yard,  staff. 
yat,  that. 


GLOSSARY.  331 

yate,  gate.  yod,  went. 

y-born,  born.  yone,  yon. 

y-doon,  done.  yyng,  young. 

ychon,  each  one. 

yeen,  274,  against,  towards.  zede,  went. 

ye'se,  ye  shall,  will.  zonge,  young.    &c. 

yestreen,  yesterday.  }e,  ye. 

yett,  gate.  }ede,  went. 

ylk,  eacfe.  Jit,  yet.    &c. 


.I