Chapter IV (4)

From the present ballad it could hardly be gathered (except, perhaps, from stanza 11) that the old palmer represents Christ. This point is at once obvious in the Scandinavian and other ballads.

The extraordinary burden in the English ballad is one of the most elaborate in existence, and is quite as inexplicable as any.

The expression 'to lead an ape in hell' (14.2) occurs constantly in Elizabethan and later literature, always in connection with women who die, or expect to die, unmarried. Dyce says the expression 'never has been (and _never will be_) satisfactorily explained'; but it was suggested by Steevens that women who had no mate on earth should adopt in hell an ape as a substitute.

THE MAID AND THE PALMER

1.
The maid shee went to the well to washe,
_Lillumwham, Lillumwham_
The mayd shee went to the well to washe,
_Whatt then, what then?_
The maid shee went to the well to washe,
Dew ffell of her lilly white fleshe.
_Grandam boy, grandam boy, heye!_
_Leg a derry Leg a merry mett mer whoope whir_
_Drivance, Larumben, Grandam boy, heye!_

2.
White shee washed & white shee ronge,
White shee hang'd o' the hazle wand.

3.
There came an old palmer by the way,
Sais, 'God speed thee well, thou faire maid.

4.
'Hast either cupp or can,
To give an old palmer drinke therin?'

5.
Sayes, 'I have neither cupp nor cann,
To give an old palmer drinke therin.'

6.
'But an thy lemman came from Roome,
Cuppes & cannes thou wold ffind soone.'

7.
Shee sware by God & good St. John,
Lemman had shee never none.

8.
Saies, 'Peace, ffaire mayd, you are fforsworne;
Nine children you have borne.

9.
'Three were buryed under thy bed's head;
Other three under thy brewing leade;

10.
'Other three on yon play greene;
Count, maide, & there be nine.'

11.
'But I hope you are the good old man
That all the world beleeves upon.

12.
'Old palmer, I pray thee,
Pennaunce that thou wilt give to me.'

13.
'Penance I can give thee none,
But seven yeere to be a stepping-stone.

14.
'Other seaven a clapper in a bell;
Other seven to lead an ape in hell.

15.
'When thou hast thy penance done,
Then thou'st come a mayden home.'

[Annotations:
2.1,2: 'White': so in the MS.; perhaps should be 'while' in each
case. 'washed' is _washee_ in the MS.
9.1: 'Three,' Percy's emendation of _They_ in the MS.
9.2: 'leade,' vat.
10.1: 'yon': MS. _won_.
10.2: '&' for _and_=]

LADY ISABEL AND THE ELF-KNIGHT

+The Text+ is taken from Buchan's _Ballads of the North of Scotland_, where it is entitled _The Gowans sae gay_. This ballad is much better known in another form, _May Colvin_ (_Collin_, _Collean_).

+The Story.+--Professor Child says, 'Of all ballads this has perhaps obtained the widest circulation,' and devotes thirty-two pages to its introduction. Known in the south as well as in the north of Europe, the Germans and Scandinavians preserve it in fuller and more ancient forms than the Latin nations.

In the still popular Dutch ballad _Halewijn_, Heer Halewijn sings so sweetly that the king's daughter asks leave to go to him. Her father, mother, and sister remind her that those who have gone to him have never returned; her brother says he does not care where she goes, if she retains her honour. She makes an elaborate toilet, takes the best horse in the king's stables, and joins Halewijn in the wood. They ride till they come to a gallows with many women hanged upon it. Halewijn offers her the choice of the means of her death, because she is fairest of all. She says she will choose the sword, but that Halewijn had better take off his coat, as it would be a pity to splash it with her blood. As he takes it off, she cuts off his head, which, however, continues to talk, suggesting she should blow his horn to warn his friends. She does not fall into this rather obvious trap, nor will she agree to his suggestion that she should rub his neck with a certain ointment. As she rides home, she meets Halewijn's mother, and tells her he is dead. She is received back with great honour and affection in her father's castle.

This is the best form of the story, but many others only a little less full are found in Flanders, Denmark, Sweden, Norway, Iceland, Germany (nearly thirty variants which fall into three main divisions found respectively in North-West, South, and North-East Germany), Poland (where it is extraordinarily common), Bohemia, Servia, France, North Italy, Spain, and Portugal; and a Magyar ballad bears a certain resemblance. On the whole, the English ballad here printed (but not _May Colvin_) and the Danish, Swedish, and Norwegian ballads, would seem to be the best preserved, on account of their retention of the primary notion, that the maid first charms the knight to sleep and then binds him. In _May Colvin_ and many of the other European versions, the knight bids her strip off her gown; she asks him to turn away his face as she does so, and when he is not looking, she pushes him into the river or sea.

The remarkable likeness existing between the names of the knight in the many languages, _e.g._ Halewijn (_Dutch_), Ulver, Olmar, Hollemen (_Danish_), Olbert (_German_), and Elf-knight in English, has caused some speculation as to a common origin. Professor Bugge has gone so far as to conjecture that the whole story is an offshoot of the tale of Judith and Holofernes, the latter name being the originals of the variants given above. While this hypothesis is perhaps too startling to be accepted without further evidence, it must be allowed that there are resemblances in the two stories; and as for the metamorphosis of Holofernes into Halewijn or Olbert, it is at once apparent that such changes are quite within the possibilities of phonetic tradition; and any one who is unwilling to credit this should recollect the Scottish 'keepach' and 'dreeach' (used together or separately), which are derived, almost beyond belief, from 'hypochondriac.'

_May Colvin_ is one of the few ancient ballads still kept in print in broadside form.

LADY ISABEL AND THE ELF-KNIGHT

1.
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_

2.
'If I had yon horn that I hear blawing,
And yon elf-knight to sleep in my bosom.'

3.
This maiden had scarcely these words spoken,
Till in at her window the elf-knight has luppen.

4.
'It's a very strange matter, fair maiden,' said he,
'I canna blaw my horn but ye call on me.

5.
'But will ye go to yon greenwood side?
If ye canna gang, I will cause you to ride.'

6.
He leapt on a horse, and she on another,
And they rode on to the greenwood together.

7.
'Light down, light down, Lady Isabel,' said he,
'We are come to the place where you are to die.'

8.
'Hae mercy, hae mercy, kind sir, on me,
Till ance my dear father and mother I see.'

9.
'Seven king's-daughters here hae I slain,
And ye shall be the eight o' them.'

10.
'O sit down a while, lay your head on my knee,
That we may hae some rest before that I die.'

11.
She stroak'd him sae fast, the nearer he did creep,
Wi' a sma' charm she lull'd him fast asleep.

12.
Wi' his ain sword-belt sae fast as she ban him,
Wi' his ain dag-durk sae sair as she dang him.

13.
'If seven king's-daughters here ye hae slain,
Lye ye here, a husband to them a'.'

[Annotations:
10.1: 'yon': MS. _won_.
10.2: '&' for _and_ =
12.1: 'ban,' bound.
12.2: 'dag-durk,' dagger.]

A NOBLE RIDDLE WISELY EXPOUNDED

+The Text+ is from a broadside of the seventeenth century from the press of Coles, Vere, Wright, and Clarke, now preserved in the Rawlinson collection in the Bodleian Library.

+The Story+ of this ballad is one of the common class of riddle-ballads. Some of these riddles are found also in _Captain Wedderburn_.

It is not clear why in 18.1 'poyson is greener than the grass.' In _Captain Wedderburn_ (17.1) it is 'death' that is greener than the grass, which is equally inexplicable. A variant of the latter gives 'virgus' [= verjuice], a kind of vinegar, which obviously means 'green juice.' It is possible that this might come to be regarded as a synonym for 'poyson'; and the next step is to substitute 'death' for 'poyson.'

A NOBLE RIDDLE WISELY EXPOUNDED

1.
There was a lady of the North Country,
_Lay the bent to the bonny broom_
And she had lovely daughters three.
_Fa la la la, fa la la la ra re_

2.
There was a knight of noble worth
Which also lived in the North.

3.
The knight, of courage stout and brave,
A wife he did desire to have.

4.
He knocked at the ladie's gate
One evening when it was late.

5.
The eldest sister let him in,
And pin'd the door with a silver pin.

6.
The second sister she made his bed,
And laid soft pillows under his head.

7.
The youngest daughter that same night,
She went to bed with this young knight.

8.
And in the morning, when it was day,
These words unto him she did say:

9.
'Now you have had your will,' quoth she,
'I pray, sir knight, will you marry me?'

10.
The young brave knight to her replyed,
'Thy suit, fair maid, shall not be deny'd:

11.
'If thou canst answer me questions three,
This very day will I marry thee.'

12.
'Kind sir, in love, O then,' quoth she,
'Tell me what your three questions be.'

13.
'O what is longer than the way,
Or what is deeper than the sea?

14.
'Or what is louder than the horn,
Or what is sharper than a thorn?

15.
'Or what is greener than the grass,
Or what is worse than a woman was?'

16.
'O love is longer than the way,
And hell is deeper than the sea.

17.
'And thunder is louder than the horn,
And hunger is sharper than a thorn.

18.
'And poyson is greener than the grass,
And the Devil is worse than woman was.'

19.
When she these questions answered had,
The knight became exceeding glad.

20.
And having truly try'd her wit,
He much commended her for it.

21.
And after, as it is verifi'd,
He made of her his lovely bride.

22.
So now, fair maidens all, adieu,
This song I dedicate to you.

23.
I wish that you may constant prove
Vnto the man that you do love.

[Annotation:
5.1: The broadsides all give 'youngest' for 'eldest.']

CAPTAIN WEDDERBURN

+The Text+ is from Kinloch's MSS., where it was written down from the recitation of Mary Barr: it is entitled 'The Earl of Rosslyn's Daughter.'

+The Story+ is the converse of _A Noble Riddle Wisely Expounded_, in which the maid wins a husband by riddles; in the present one the captain out-riddles the maid. Similar tales are very popular in many lands, being found in Persia, Russia, Norway, Sweden, Denmark, Turkey, Lithuania, East Siberia, etc.

Most of the lady's riddles are found in an old English song, and its traditional derivatives. The song, which is given below, is found in Sloane MS. 2593, which contains other carols and ballads (see pp. 123-8)[A]. From this is derived the nursery song beginning--

'I had four brothers over the sea'

(with many variations:-- 'four sisters,' 'six lovers,' 'a true lover'), and with a curious half-Latin refrain which varies between

_Para-mara, dictum, domine,_

and

_Peri-meri, dixi, domine._

The following is the song referred to above. It was twice printed by T. Wright from the fifteenth-century MS.

[[A] Transcriber's Note:
Pp. 123-128: "Adam" (123) and "Saint Stephen and King Herod" (125).]

1.
I have a yong suster
fer beyondyn the se;
Many be the drowryis
that che sente me.

2.
Che sente me the cherye,
withoutyn ony ston,
And so che dede [the] dowe,
withoutyn ony bon.

3.
Sche sente me the brere,
withoutyn ony rynde,
Sche bad me love my lemman
withoute longgyng.

4.
How xuld ony cherye
be withoute ston?
And how xuld ony dowe
ben withoute bon?

5.
How xuld any brere
ben withoute rynde?
How xuld I love my lemman
without longyng?

6.
Quan the cherye was a flour,
than hadde it non ston;
Quan the dowe was an ey,
than hadde it non bon.

7.
Quan the brere was onbred,
than hadde it non rynd;
Quan the mayden hayt that che lovit,
che is without longing.

[Annotations:
1.3: 'drowryis' = druries, keepsakes.
2.3: 'dowe,' dove.
3.1: 'brere,' brier: here perhaps the 'hip' of the dog-rose
(see 7.1).
3.3: 'lemman,' sweetheart.
4.1: etc. 'xuld' = should.
6.3: 'ey,' egg.
7.3: 'hayt that che lovit,' has what she loves.]

CAPTAIN WEDDERBURN

1.
The Lord of Rosslyn's daughter gaed through the wud her lane,
And there she met Captain Wedderburn, a servant to the king.
He said unto his livery man, 'Were 't na agen the law,
I wad tak her to my ain bed, and lay her at the wa'.'

2.
'I'm walking here my lane,' she says, 'amang my father's trees;
And ye may lat me walk my lane, kind sir, now gin ye please.
The supper-bell it will be rung, and I'll be miss'd awa';
Sae I'll na lie in your bed, at neither stock nor wa'.'

3.
He said, 'My pretty lady, I pray lend me your hand,
And ye'll hae drums and trumpets always at your command;
And fifty men to guard ye wi', that weel their swords can draw;
Sae we'll baith lie in ae bed, and ye'll lie at the wa'.'

4.
'Haud awa' frae me, kind sir, I pray lat go my hand;
The supper-bell it will be rung, nae langer maun I stand.
My father he'll na supper tak, gif I be miss'd awa';
Sae I'll na lie in your bed, at neither stock nor wa'.'

5.
'O my name is Captain Wedderburn, my name I'll ne'er deny,
And I command ten thousand men, upo' yon mountains high.
Tho' your father and his men were here, of them I'd stand na awe,
But should tak ye to my ain bed, and lay ye neist the wa'.'

6.
Then he lap aff his milk-white steed, and set the lady on,
And a' the way he walk'd on foot, he held her by the hand;
He held her by the middle jimp, for fear that she should fa';
Saying, 'I'll tak ye to my ain bed, and lay thee at the wa'.'

7.
He took her to his quartering-house, his landlady looked ben,
Saying, 'Monie a pretty ladie in Edinbruch I've seen;
But sic 'na pretty ladie is not into it a':
Gae, mak for her a fine down-bed, and lay her at the wa'.'

8.
'O haud awa' frae me, kind sir, I pray ye lat me be,
For I'll na lie in your bed till I get dishes three;
Dishes three maun be dress'd for me, gif I should eat them a',
Before I lie in your bed, at either stock or wa'.

9.
'Tis I maun hae to my supper a chicken without a bane;
And I maun hae to my supper a cherry without a stane;
And I maun hae to my supper a bird without a gaw,
Before I lie in your bed, at either stock or wa'.'

10.
'Whan the chicken's in the shell, I'm sure it has na bane;
And whan the cherry's in the bloom, I wat it has na stane;
The dove she is a genty bird, she flees without a gaw;
Sae we'll baith lie in ae bed, and ye'll be at the wa'.'

11.
'O haud awa' frae me, kind sir, I pray ye give me owre,
For I'll na lie in your bed, till I get presents four;
Presents four ye maun gie me, and that is twa and twa,
Before I lie in your bed, at either stock or wa'.

12.
'Tis I maun hae some winter fruit that in December grew,
And I maun hae a silk mantil that waft gaed never through;
A sparrow's horn, a priest unborn, this nicht to join us twa,
Before I lie in your bed, at either stock or wa'.'

13.
'My father has some winter fruit that in December grew;
My mither has a silk mantil the waft gaed never through;
A sparrow's horn ye soon may find, there's ane on ev'ry claw,
And twa upo' the gab o' it, and ye shall get them a'.

14.
'The priest he stands without the yett, just ready to come in;
Nae man can say he e'er was born, nae man without he sin;
He was haill cut frae his mither's side, and frae the same let fa':
Sae we'll baith lie in ae bed, and ye'se lie at the wa'.'

15.
'O haud awa' frae me, kind sir, I pray don't me perplex,
For I'll na lie in your bed till ye answer questions six:
Questions six ye maun answer me, and that is four and twa,
Before I lie in your bed, at either stock or wa'.

16.
'O what is greener than the gress, what's higher than thae trees?
O what is worse than women's wish, what's deeper than the seas?
What bird craws first, what tree buds first, what first does on
them fa'?
Before I lie in your bed, at either stock or wa'.'

17.
'Death is greener than the gress, heaven higher than thae trees;
The devil's waur than women's wish, hell's deeper than the seas;
The cock craws first, the cedar buds first, dew first on them
does fa';
Sae we'll baith lie in ae bed, and ye'se lie at the wa','

18.
Little did this lady think, that morning whan she raise,
That this was for to be the last o' a' her maiden days.
But there's na into the king's realm to be found a blither twa,
And now she's Mrs. Wedderburn, and she lies at the wa'.

[Annotations:
2.4: The 'stock' of a bed is the outer side, and the 'wa''
(= wall) the inner. Ancient beds were made like boxes with the
outer side cut away.
7.1: 'quartering-house,' lodging-house.
9.3: 'gaw,' gall. It is an ancient superstition that the dove or
pigeon has no gall, the fact being that the gall-bladder is
absent. See Sir Thomas Browne's _Pseudodoxia Epidemica_, iii. 3.
10.3: 'genty,' neat, limber. --Jamieson.
14.1: 'yett,' gate.]

THE ELPHIN KNIGHT

+The Text+ is from a broadside in black letter in the Pepysian Library at Cambridge; bound up at the end of a book published in 1673.

+The Story+ of this ballad but poorly represents the complete form of the story as exhibited in many German and other ballads, where alternate bargaining and riddling ensues between a man and a maid. This long series of ballads is akin to the still longer series in which the person upon whom an impossible task is imposed is considered to have got the mastery by retaliating with another impossible task.

The opening stanzas of this ballad correspond closely with those of _Lady Isabel and the Elf-Knight_.

THE ELPHIN KNIGHT

_My plaid awa, my plaid awa,_
_And ore the hill and far awa,_
_And far awa to Norrowa,_
_My plaid shall not be blown awa._

1.
The elphin knight sits on yon hill,
_Ba, ba, ba, lilli-ba_
He blaws his horn both lowd and shril.
_The wind hath blown my plaid awa_

2.
He blowes it east, he blowes it west,
He blowes it where he lyketh best.

3.
'I wish that horn were in my kist,
Yea, and the knight in my armes two.'

4.
She had no sooner these words said,
When that the knight came to her bed.

5.
'Thou art over young a maid,' quoth he,
'Married with me thou il wouldst be.'

6.
'I have a sister younger than I,
And she was married yesterday.'

7.
'Married with me if thou wouldst be,
A courtesie thou must do to me.

8.
'For thou must shape a sark to me,
Without any cut or heme,' quoth he.

9.
'Thou must shape it knife-and-sheerlesse,
And also sue it needle-threedlesse.'

10.
'If that piece of courtesie I do to thee,
Another thou must do to me.

11.
'I have an aiker of good ley-land,
Which lyeth low by yon sea-strand.

12.
'For thou must eare it with thy horn,
So thou must sow it with thy corn.

13.
'And bigg a cart of stone and lyme,
Robin Redbreast he must trail it hame.

14.
'Thou must barn it in a mouse-holl,
And thrash it into thy shoe's soll.

15.
'And thou must winnow it in thy looff,
And also seek it in thy glove.

16.
'For thou must bring it over the sea,
And thou must bring it dry home to me.

17.
'When thou hast gotten thy turns well done,
Then come to me and get thy sark then.'

18.
'I'll not quite my plaid for my life;
It haps my seven bairns and my wife.'
_The wind shall not blow my plaid awa_

19.
'My maidenhead I'l then keep still,
Let the elphin knight do what he will.'
_The wind's not blown my plaid awa_

[Annotations:
3.1: 'kist,' chest.
8.1: 'sark,' shirt.
12.1: 'eare,' plough.
13.1: 'bigg,' build.
15.1: 'looff,' palm.
15.2: 'seek,' sack.]

KING JOHN AND THE ABBOT

+The Text+ here printed is taken from Percy's _Reliques_ (1765), vol. ii. p. 302, etc. He compiled his ballad from a broadside and another copy, _Kinge John and Bishoppe_, that he found in his Folio MS.; and since he made it a much more readable ballad than either of his originals, it is reproduced here.

+The Story.+--Riddles asked by a monarch of one of his dependants, and answered by a third person assuming the guise of the person questioned, form the subject of many ancient tales. In Sacchetti's _Novelle_ we find both the abbot and his representative, a miller, who answers Bernabò Visconti the four questions, How far is it to heaven? How much water is there in the sea? What is going on in hell? What is the value of my person? The answers to the first two of these are given simply in large numbers and Bernabò told to measure for himself if he does not believe them. The value of Bernabò's person is estimated, as in our ballad, at one piece less than our Lord.

Another favourite question in these ballads is, Where is the centre of the earth? The answer is given by the man planting his staff and saying, 'Here: prove it wrong if you can.'

In the Percy Folio version, the shepherd is the half-brother of the abbot.

KING JOHN AND THE ABBOT OF CANTERBURY

1.
An ancient story Ile tell you anon
Of a notable prince, that was called King John;
And he ruled England with maine and with might,
For he did great wrong, and maintein'd little right.

2.
And Ile tell you a story, a story so merrye,
Concerning the Abbot of Canterbùrye;
How for his house-keeping, and high renowne,
They rode post for him to London towne.

3.
An hundred men, the king did heare say,
The abbot kept in his house every day;
And fifty golde chaynes, without any doubt,
In velvet coates waited the abbot about.

4.
'How now, father abbot, I heare it of thee,
Thou keepest a far better house than mee,
And for thy house-keeping and high renowne,
I feare thou work'st treason against my crown.'

5.
'My liege,' quo' the abbot, 'I would it were knowne,
I never spend nothing but what is my owne;
And I trust, your grace will do me no deere,
For spending of my owne true-gotten geere.'

6.
'Yes, yes, father abbot, thy fault it is highe,
And now for the same thou needest must dye;
For except thou canst answer me questions three,
Thy head shall be smitten from thy bodìe.

7.
'And first,' quo' the king, 'when I'm in this stead,
With my crowne of golde so faire on my head,
Among all my liege-men so noble of birthe
Thou must tell me to one penny what I am worthe.

8.
'Secondlye, tell me, without any doubt,
How soone I may ride the whole world about;
And at the third question thou must not shrink,
But tell me here truly what I do think.'

9.
'O, these are hard questions for my shallow witt,
Nor I cannot answer your grace as yet;
But if you will give me but three weekes space,
Ile do my endeavour to answer your grace.'

10.
'Now three weeks space to thee will I give.
And that is the longest time thou hast to live;
For if thou dost not answer my questions three,
Thy lands and thy livings are forfeit to mee.'

11.
Away rode the abbot all sad at that word,
And he rode to Cambridge, and Oxenford;
But never a doctor there was so wise,
That could with his learning an answer devise.

12.
Then home rode the abbot of comfort so cold,
And he mett his shepheard a going to fold:
'How now, my lord abbot, you are welcome home;
What newes do you bring us from good king John?'

13.
'Sad newes, sad newes, shepheard, I must give;
That I have but three days more to live:
For if I do not answer him questions three,
My head will be smitten from my bodìe.

14.
'The first is to tell him there in that stead,
With his crowne of golde so fair on his head,
Among all his liege men so noble of birth,
To within one penny of what he is worth.

15.
'The seconde, to tell him, without any doubt,
How soone he may ride this whole world about:
And at the third question I must not shrinke,
But tell him there truly what he does thinke.'

16.
'Now cheare up, sire abbot, did you never hear yet,
That a fool he may learn a wise man witt?
Lend me horse, and serving-men, and your apparel.
And I'll ride to London to answere your quarrel.

17.
'Nay frowne not, if it hath been told unto mee,
I am like your lordship as ever may bee:
And if you will but lend me your gowne,
There is none shall knowe us at fair London towne.'

18.
'Now horses, and serving-men thou shalt have,
With sumptuous array most gallant and brave;
With crozier, and miter, and rochet, and cope,
Fit to appeare 'fore our fader the pope.'

19.
'Now welcome, sire abbot,' the king he did say,
''Tis well thou'rt come back to keepe thy day;
For an if thou canst answer my questions three,
Thy life and thy living both saved shall be.

20.
'And first, when thou seest me here in this stead,
With my crown of golde so fair on my head,
Among all my liege-men so noble of birthe,
Tell me to one penny what I am worth.'

21.
'For thirty pence our Saviour was sold
Amonge the false Jewes, as I have bin told;
And twenty nine is the worth of thee,
For I thinke, thou art one penny worser than he.'

22.
The king he laughed, and swore by St. Bittel,
'I did not think I had been worth so littel!
--Now secondly tell me, without any doubt,
How soone I may ride this whole world about.'

23.
'You must rise with the sun, and ride with the same,
Until the next morning he riseth againe;
And then your grace need not make any doubt,
But in twenty-four hours you'll ride it about.'

24.
The king he laughed, and swore by St. Jone,
'I did not think it could be gone so soone!
--Now from the third question thou must not shrinke,
But tell me here truly what I do thinke.'

25.
'Yea, that I shall do, and make your grace merry:
You thinke I'm the abbot of Canterbùrye;
But I'm his poor shepheard, as plain you may see,
That am come to beg pardon for him and for me.'

26.
The king he laughed, and swore by the masse,
'Ile make thee lord abbot this day in his place!'
'Now naye, my liege, be not in such speede,
For alacke I can neither write, ne reade.'

27.
'Four nobles a weeke, then I will give thee,
For this merry jest thou hast showne unto mee;
And tell the old abbot when thou comest home,
Thou hast brought him a pardon from good king John.'

[Annotations:
5.3: 'deere,' harm.
5.3: 'deere,' harm.
22.1: 'Meaning probably St. Botolph.' --_Percy's note._ But the
Folio gives St. Andrew, so that it is Percy's own emendation.]

THE FAUSE KNIGHT UPON THE ROAD

+The Text+ is taken from the Introduction to Motherwell's _Minstrelsy_, p. lxxiv.

+The Story+ appears to be a conversation between a wee boy and the devil, the latter under the guise of a knight. The boy will be carried off unless he can 'have the last word,' a charm of great power against all evil spirits.

A very similar ballad, of repartees between an old crone and a wee boy, was found at the Lappfiord, Finland.

THE FAUSE KNIGHT UPON THE ROAD

1.
'O whare are ye gaun?'
_Quo the fause knicht upon the road:_
'I'm gaun to the scule,'
_Quo' the wee boy, and still he stude._

2.
'What is that upon your back?'
'Atweel it is my bukes.'

3.
'What's that ye've got in your arm?'
'Atweel it is my peit.'

4.
'Wha's aucht they sheep?'
'They're mine and my mither's.'

5.
'How monie o' them are mine?'
'A' they that hae blue tails.'

6.
'I wiss ye were on yon tree:'
'And a gude ladder under me.'

7.
'And the ladder for to break:'
'And you for to fa' down.'

8.
'I wiss ye were in yon sie:'
'And a gude bottom under me.'

9.
'And the bottom for to break:'
'And ye to be drowned.'

[Annotations:
2.2: 'Atweel,' = I wot well, truly.
3.2: 'peit,' peat, carried to school to contribute to the fire.
4.1: 'Wha's aucht,' who owns.]

THE LORD OF LEARNE

+The Text+ is from the Percy Folio MS., with the spelling modernised, except in two or three instances for the sake of the rhyme (13.4) or metre (102.2). Other alterations, as suggested by Child, are noted. Apart from the irregularities of metre, this ballad is remarkable for the large proportion of 'e' rhymes, which are found in 71 stanzas, or two-thirds of the whole. The redundant 'that,' which is a feature of the Percy Folio, also occurs frequently--in eleven places, three of which are in optative sentences (8.2, 14.4, 91.4).

The ballad is more commonly known as _The Lord of Lorne_, under which title we find it registered in the Stationers' Company on October 6, 1580. Guilpin refers to it in his _Skialethia_ (1598), Satire 1, ll. 107-108:--

'... the old ballad of the Lord of Lorne
Whose last line in King Harry's day was born.'

Probably this implies little more than that the ballad was known in Henry VIII.'s day. Three broadsides are known, two in the Roxburghe and one in the Pepys collection. Both the Roxburghe ballads are later than the Folio version.

+The Story+ is derived from that of _Roswall and Lillian_. Roswall, the king's son, of Naples, overhearing three lords bewailing their long imprisonment, promised to set them free, and did so by stealing the keys from under the king's pillow at night. The king, on hearing of their escape, vowed to slay at sight the man who had set them free. The queen, however, interceding for her son, Roswall was banished under charge of a steward. From this point our ballad follows the romance fairly closely. Roswall and the steward, after changing places, entered the kingdom of Bealm. At length Roswall, under the name Dissawar (see 29.2, etc.), became chamberlain to the Princess Lillian, and she fell in love with him. The King of Bealm meanwhile sent to the King of Naples, proposing to wed his daughter to the young prince of Naples, and the Neapolitan king assented. A joust was proclaimed, and Lillian told Dissawar to joust for her; but he preferred to go a-hunting. However, in the wood he found the three knights he had helped to escape, and they equipped him for the three days' tourney, in which he defeated the steward. He did not, however, proclaim himself, and Lillian was forced to ask the king herself for Dissawar; but her father married her to the steward. During the wedding feast the three Neapolitan lords appeared, but would not acknowledge the steward as their prince, and went in search of Roswall, who told the king of the steward's treachery, and announced himself to be the victor of the jousts. The steward was hanged and Roswall married to Lillian.

Other romances and stories exist, with similar foundations, especially amongst the Slavic nations. But the best known is the _Goose-girl_ (_Die Gänse-magd_) of the Grimms, where the sexes are reversed. A connection may be traced between the horse Falada's head and the gelding of the ballad; and the trick of a person, who is sworn to secrecy, divulging the secret to some object (as the gelding, here; but more often a stove or oven) in the presence of witnesses has obtained a wide vogue.

THE LORD OF LEARNE

1.
It was the worthy lord of Learne,
He was a lord of a high degree;
He had no more children but one son,
He set him to school to learn courtesy.

2.
Learning did so proceed with that child--
I tell you all in verity--
He learned more upon one day
Than other children did on three.

3.
And then bespake the school-master,
Unto the lord of Learne said he,
'I think thou be some stranger born,
For the Holy Ghost remains with thee.'

4.
He said, 'I am no stranger born,
Forsooth, master, I tell it to thee,
It is a gift of Almighty God
Which He hath given unto me.'

5.
The school-master turn'd him round about,
His angry mind he thought to assuage,
For the child could answer him so quickly,
And was of so tender year of age.

6.
The child, he caused a steed to be brought,
A golden bridle done him upon;
He took his leave of his schoolfellows,
And home the child that he is gone.

7.
And when he came before his father,
He fell low down upon his knee,
'My blessing, father, I would ask,
If Christ would grant you would give it me.'

8.
'Now God thee bless, my son and my heir,
His servant in heaven that thou may be!
What tidings hast thou brought me, child,
Thou art comen home so soon to me?'

9.
'Good tidings, father, I have you brought,
Good tidings I hope it is to me;
The book is not in all Scotland,
But I can read it before your eye.'

10.
A joyed man his father was,
Even the worthy lord of Learne;
'Thou shalt go into France, my child,
The speeches of all strange lands to learn.'

11.
But then bespake the child his mother--
The lady of Learne and then was she--
Says, 'Who must be his well good guide,
When he goes into that strange country?'

12.
And then bespake that bonny child
Untill his father tenderly,
Says, 'Father, I'll have the hend steward,
For he hath been true to you and me.'

13.
The lady to counsel the steward did take,
And counted down a hundred pounds there,
Says, 'Steward, be true to my son and my heir,
And I will give thee mickle mere.'

14.
'If I be not true to my master,' he said,
'Christ himself be not true to me!
If I be not true to my lord and master,
An ill death that I may die!'

15.
The lord of Learne did apparel his child
With brooch, and ring, and many a thing;
The apparel he had his body upon,
They say was worth a squire's living.

16.
The parting of the young lord of Learne
With his father, his mother, his fellows dear,
Would have made a man's heart for to change,
If a Jew born that he were.

17.
The wind did serve, and they did sail
Over the sea into France land:
He used the child so hardly,
He would let him have never a penny to spend.

18.
And meat he would let the child have none,
Nor money to buy none truly;
The boy was hungry and thirsty both;
Alas! it was the more pity.

19.
He laid him down to drink the water
That was so low beneath the brim;
He was wont to have drunk both ale and wine,
Then was fain of the water so thin.

20.
And as he was drinking of the water
That ran so low beneath the brim,
So ready was the false steward
To drown the bonny boy therein.

21.
'Have mercy on me, worthy steward!
My life,' he said, 'lend it to me!
And all that I am heir upon,'
Says, 'I will give unto thee.'

22.
Mercy to him the steward did take,
And pull'd the child out of the brim;
Ever alack! the more pity,
He took his clothes even from him.

23.
Says, 'Do thou me off that velvet gown,
The crimson hose beneath thy knee,
And do me off thy cordivant shoon
Are buckled with the gold so free.

24.
'Do thou me off thy satin doublet,
Thy shirtband wrought with glistering gold,
And do me off thy golden chain
About thy neck so many a fold.

25.
'Do thou me off thy velvet hat
With feather in that is so fine,
All unto thy silken shirt
That's wrought with many a golden seam.'

26.
The child before him naked stood,
With skin as white as lily flower;
For his worthy lord's beauty
He might have been a lady's paramour.

27.
He put upon him a leather coat,
And breeches of the same beneath the knee,
And sent that bonny child him fro,
Service for to crave, truly.

28.
He pull'd then forth a naked sword
That hange[d] full low then by his side,
'Turn thy name, thou villain,' he said,
'Or else this sword shall be thy guide.'

29.
'What must be my name, worthy steward?
I pray thee now tell it me.'
'Thy name shall be poor Disaware,
To tend sheep on a lonely lea.'

30.
The bonny child, he went him fro,
And looked to himself truly,
Saw his apparel so simple upon;
O Lord! he weeped tenderly.

31.
Unto a shepherd's house that child did go,
And said, 'Sir, God you save and see!
Do you not want a servant boy
To tend your sheep on a lonely lea?'

32.
'Where was thou born?' the shepherd said,
'Where, my boy, or in what country?'
'Sir,' he said, 'I was born in fair Scotland
That is so far beyond the sea.'

33.
'I have no child,' the shepherd said,
'My boy, thou'st tarry and dwell with me;
My living,' he said, 'and all my goods,
I'll make thee heir [of] after me.'

34.
And then bespake the shepherd's wife,
To the lord of Learne thus did she say,
'Go thy way to our sheep,' she said,
'And tend them well both night and day.'

35.
It was a sore office, O Lord, for him
That was a lord born of a great degree!
As he was tending his sheep alone,
Neither sport nor play could he.

36.
Let us leave talking of the lord of Learne,
And let all such talking go;
Let us talk more of the false steward
That caused the child all this woe.

37.
He sold this lord of Learne his clothes
For five hundred pounds to his pay [there],
And bought himself a suit of apparel,
Might well beseem a lord to wear.

38.
When he that gorgeous apparel bought
That did so finely his body upon,
He laughed the bonny child to scorn
That was the bonny lord of Learne.

39.
He laughed that bonny boy to scorne;
Lord! pity it was to hear!
I have heard them say, and so have you too,
That a man may buy gold too dear.

40.
When that he had all that gorgeous apparel
That did so finely his body upon,
He went a wooing to the duke's daughter of France,
And called himself the lord of Learne.

41.
The duke of France heard tell of this;
To his place that worthy lord was come truly;
He entertain'd him with a quart of red Rhenish wine.
Says, 'Lord of Learne, thou art welcome to me!'

42.
Then to supper that they were set,
Lords and ladies in their degree;
The steward was set next the duke of France;
An unseemly sight it was to see.

43.
Then bespake the duke of France,
Unto the lord of Learne said he there,
Says, 'Lord of Learne, if thou'll marry my daughter,
I'll mend thy living five hundred pounds a year.'

44.
Then bespake that lady fair,
Answered her father so alone,
That she would be his married wife
If he would make her Lady of Learne.

45.
Then hand in hand the steward her he took,
And plight that lady his troth alone,
That she should be his married wife,
And he would make her the lady of Learne.

46.
Thus that night it was gone,
The other day was come truly.
The lady would see the roe-buck run
Up hills and dales and forest free.

47.
Then she was ware of the young lord of Learne
Tending sheep under a briar, truly;
And thus she called unto her maids,
And held her hands up thus on high,
Says, 'Fetch me yond shepherd's boy,
I'll know why he doth mourn, truly.'

48.
When he came before that lady fair
He fell down upon his knee;
He had been so well brought up
He needed not to learn courtesy.

49.
'Where wast thou born, thou bonny boy,
Where or in what country?'
'Madam, I was born in fair Scotland,
That is so far beyond the sea.'

50.
'What is thy name, thou bonny boy?
I pray thee tell it unto me.'
'My name,' he says, 'is poor Disaware,
That tends sheep on a lonely lea.'

51.
'One thing thou must tell me, bonny boy,
Which I must needs ask of thee:
Dost not thou know the young lord of Learne?
He is come a wooing into France to me.'

52.
'Yes, that I do, madam,' he said;
And then he wept most tenderly;
'The lord of Learne is a worthy lord,
If he were at home in his own country.'

53.
'What ails thee to weep, my bonny boy?
Tell me or ere I part thee fro.'
'Nothing but for a friend, madam,
That's dead from me many a year ago.'

54.
A loud laughter the lady laughed;
O Lord, she smiled wondrous high;
'I have dwelled in France since I was born;
Such a shepherd's boy I did never see.

55.
'Wilt thou not leave thy sheep, my child,
And come unto service unto me?
And I will give thee meat and fee,
And my chamberlain thou shalt be.'

56.
'Then I will leave my sheep, madam,' he said,
'And come into service unto thee;
If you will give me meat and fee,
Your chamberlain that I may be.'

57.
When the lady came before her father,
She fell low down upon her knee;
'Grant me, father,' the lady said,
'This boy my chamberlain to be.'

58.
'But O nay, nay,' the duke did say,
'So, my daughter, it may not be;
The lord that is come a wooing to you
Will be offended with you and me.'

59.
Then came down the false steward
Which called himself the lord of Learne, truly:
When he looked that bonny boy upon,
An angry man i-wis was he.

60.
'Where was thou born, thou vagabond?
'Where?' he said, 'and in what country?'
Says, 'I was born in fair Scotland
That is so far beyond the sea.'

61.
'What is thy name, thou vagabond?
Have done quickly, and tell it to me.'
'My name,' he says, 'is poor Disaware;
I tend sheep on the lonely lea.'
'Thou art a thief,' the steward said,
'And so in the end I will prove thee.'

62.
Then bespake the lady fair,
'Peace, lord of Learne! I do pray thee;
For if no love you show this child,
No favour can you have of me.'

63.
'Will you believe me, lady fair,
When the truth I do tell ye?
At Aberdonie beyond the sea
His father he robbed a hundred [and] three.'

64.
But then bespake the duke of France
Unto the boy so tenderly,
Says, 'Boy, if thou love horses well,
My stable groom I will make thee.'

65.
And thus that that did pass upon
Till the twelve months did draw to an end;
The boy applied his office so well,
Every man became his friend.

66.
He went forth early one morning
To water a gelding at the water so free;
The gelding up, and with his head
He hit the child above his eye.

67.
'Woe be to thee, thou gelding!' he said,
'And to the mare that foaled thee!
Thou has stricken the lord of Learne
A little tiny above the eye.

68.
'First night after I was born, a lord I was;
An earl after my father doth die;
My father is the worthy lord of Learne;
His child he hath no more but me;
He sent me over the sea with the false steward,
And thus that he hath beguiled me.'

69.
The lady [wa]s in her garden green,
Walking with her maids, truly,
And heard the boy this mourning make,
And went to weeping truly.

70.
'Sing on thy song, thou stable groom,
I pray thee do not let for me,
And as I am a true lady
I will be true unto thee.'

71.
'But nay, now nay, madam!' he said,
'So that it may not be,
I am ta'en sworn upon a book,
And forsworn I will not be.'

72.
'Sing on thy song to thy gelding
And thou dost not sing to me;
And as I am a true lady
I will ever be true unto thee.'

73.
He said, 'Woe be to thee, gelding,
And to the mare that foaled thee!
For thou hast stricken the lord of Learne
A little above mine eye.

74.
'First night I was born, a lord I was;
An earl after my father doth die;
My father is the good lord of Learne,
And child he hath no other but me.
My father sent me over with the false steward,
And thus that he hath beguiled me.

75.
'Woe be to the steward, lady,' he said,
'Woe be to him verily!
He hath been above this twelve months' day
For to deceive both thee and me.

76.
'If you do not my counsel keep
That I have told you with good intent,
And if you do it not well keep,
Farewell! my life is at an end.'

77.
'I will be true to thee, lord of Learne,
Or else Christ be not so unto me;
And as I am a true lady,
I'll never marry none but thee!'

78.
She sent in for her father, the duke,
In all the speed that e'er might be;
'Put off my wedding, father,' she said,
'For the love of God, these months three.

79.
'Sick I am,' the lady said,
'O sick, and very like to die!
Put off my wedding, father duke,
For the love of God, these months three.'

80.
The duke of France put off this wedding
Of the steward and the lady, months three;
For the lady sick she was,
Sick, sick, and like to die.

81.
She wrote a letter with her own hand,
In all the speed that ever might be;
She sent over into Scotland
That is so far beyond the sea.

82.
When the messenger came before the old lord of Learne,
He kneeled low down on his knee,
And he delivered the letter unto him
In all the speed that ever might be.

83.
First look he looked the letter upon,
Lo! he wept full bitterly;
The second look he looked it upon,
Said, 'False steward! woe be to thee!'

84.
When the lady of Learne these tidings heard,
O Lord! she wept so bitterly:
'I told you of this, now good my lord,
When I sent my child into that wild country.'

85.
'Peace, lady of Learne,' the lord did say,
'For Christ his love I do pray thee;
And as I am a Christian man,
Wroken upon him that I will be.'

86.
He wrote a letter with his own hand
In all the speed that e'er might be;
He sent it into the lords in Scotland
That were born of a great degree.

87.
He sent for lords, he sent for knights,
The best that were in the country,
To go with him into the land of France,
To seek his son in that strange country.

88.
The wind was good, and they did sail,
Five hundred men into France land,
There to seek that bonny boy
That was the worthy lord of Learne.

89.
They sought the country through and through,
So far to the duke's place of France land:
There they were ware of that bonny boy
Standing with a porter's staff in his hand.

90.
Then the worshipful they did bow,
The serving-men fell on their knee,
They cast their hats up into the air
For joy that boy that they did see.

91.
The lord of Learne, then he light down,
And kissed his child both cheek and chin,
And said, 'God bless thee, my son and my heir,
The bliss of heaven that thou may win!'

92.
The false steward and the duke of France
Were in a castle top truly:
'What fools are yond,' says the false steward,
'To the porter makes so low courtesy?'

93.
Then bespake the duke of France,
Calling my lord of Learne truly,
He said, 'I doubt the day be come
That either you or I must die.'

94.
They set the castle round about,
A swallow could not have flown away;
And there they took the false steward
That the lord of Learne did betray.

95.
And when they had taken the false steward,
He fell low down upon his knee,
And craved mercy of the lord of Learne
For the villainous deed he had done, truly.

96.
'Thou shalt have mercy,' said the lord of Learne,
'Thou vile traitor! I tell to thee,
As the laws of the realm they will thee bear,
Whether it be for thee to live or die.'

97.
A quest of lords that there was chosen
To go upon his death, truly:
There they judged the false steward,
Whether he was guilty, and for to die.

98.
The foreman of the jury, he came in;
He spake his words full loud and high:
Said, 'Make thee ready, thou false steward,
For now thy death it draws full nigh!'

99.
Said he, 'If my death it doth draw nigh,
God forgive me all I have done amiss!
Where is that lady I have loved so long,
Before my death to give me a kiss?'

100.
'Away, thou traitor!' the lady said,
'Avoid out of my company!
For thy vile treason thou hast wrought,
Thou had need to cry to God for mercy.'

101.
First they took him and hang'd him half,
And let him down before he was dead,
And quartered him in quarters many,
And sod him in a boiling lead.

102.
And then they took him out again,
And cutten all his joints in sunder,
And burnt him eke upon a hill;
I-wis they did him curstly cumber.

103.
A loud laughter the lady laughed;
O Lord! she smiled merrily;
She said, 'I may praise my heavenly King,
That ever I seen this vile traitor die.'

104.
Then bespake the duke of France,
Unto the right lord of Learne said he there,
Says, 'Lord of Learne, if thou wilt marry my daughter,
I'll mend thy living five hundred [pounds] a year.'

105.
But then bespake that bonny boy,
And answered the duke quickly,
'I had rather marry your daughter with a ring of gold,
Than all the gold that e'er I blinked on with mine eye.'

106.
But then bespake the old lord of Learne,
To the duke of France thus he did say,
'Seeing our children do so well agree,
They shall be married ere we go away.'

107.
The lady of Learne, she was for sent
Throughout Scotland so speedily,
To see these two children set up
In their seats of gold full royally.