Chapter VII: Part THE SECOND (2)

This ballad has been handed down, through manuscript and oral tradition, in several forms. The oldest copy is furnished by the Bannatyne MS., and this has been often printed, with more or less correctness: as in Ramsay's _Evergreen_, ii. 137; Lord Hailes's _Ancient Scotish Poems, &c._ p. 215; Herd's _Scotish Songs_, ii. 237; Pinkerton's _Select Scottish Ballads_, ii. 97. Our text is that of Laing, _Select Remains, &c._, which professes to be carefully given from the manuscript. Mr. Laing has added in the margin the most important variations of other editions. Allan Ramsay altered several verses and added others.

In the Bannatyne MS. this piece is subscribed with the name of "Mofat," and on this ground the authorship has been attributed to Sir John Moffat, who is supposed to have lived in the earlier part of the 16th century.

Ritson, who intended to insert the _Wife of Auchtermuchty_ in a projected volume of _Select Scotish Poems_, says in a manuscript note, "The subject of this poem seems to be borrowed from the first part of a story in the _Silva Sermonum Jucundissimorum_, Basil. 1568, 8vo. p. 116, though certainly from a more ancient authority." (Laing.) This story is cited at the end of the volume from which we print. In Wright and Halliwell's _Reliquiæ Antiquæ_, ii. 195, is the first _fit_ of an English ballad on the same subject, "from a MS. on paper, of the reign of Henry VII," (_Ballad of a Tyrannical Husband_.) _John Grumlie_ in Cunningham's _Songs of Scotland_, ii. 123, is another variety. See also _Nursery Rhymes of England_, p. 32, Per. Soc. vol. iv. In 1803, there appeared at Edinburgh a translation of Ramsay's ballad into Latin rhyme.

In Auchtirmuchty thair dwelt ane man,
An husband, as I hard it tauld,
Quha weill could tippill owt a can,
And naithir luvit hungir nor cauld.
Quhill anis it fell upoun a day, 5
He yokkit his pluch upoun the plane;
Gif it be trew as I hard say,
The day was foull for wind and rane.

He lowsit the pluche at the landis end,
And draif his oxin hame at evin; 10
Quhen he come in he lukit bend,
And saw the wyf baith dry and clene,
And sittand at ane fyre, beik and bauld,
With ane fat soup, as I hard say;
The man being verry weit and cauld, 15
Betwene thay twa it was na play.

Quoth he, "Quhair is my horsis corne?
My ox hes naithir hay nor stray;
Dame, ye mon to the pluch to morne;
I salbe hussy, gif I may." 20
"Husband," quoth scho, "content am I
To tak the pluche my day about,
Sa ye will reull baith kavis and ky,
And all the house baith in and owt.

"But sen that ye will husyskep ken, 25
First ye sall sift and syne sall kned;
And ay as ye gang but and ben,
Luk that the bairnis dryt not the bed.
Yeis lay ane soft wisp to the kill;
We haif ane deir ferme on o[u]r heid; 30
And ay as ye gang furth and in,
Keip weill the gaislingis fra the gled."

The wyf was up richt late at evin,
I pray God gif her evill to fair!
Scho kyrnd the kyrne, and skumd it clene, 35
And left the gudeman bot the bledoch bair.
Than in the mornyng up scho gatt,
And on hir hairt laid hir disjune;
Scho put als mekle in hir lap,
As micht haif ser[v]d them baith at nune. 40

Sayis, "Jok, will thou be maister of wark,
And thou sall had, and I sall kall;
Ise promise thé ane gude new sark,
Athir of round claith or of small."
Scho lousit oxin aucht or nyne, 45
And hynt ane gad-staff in hir hand;
And the gudman raiss eftir syne,
And saw the wyf had done command.

And caud the gaislingis furth to feid;
Thair was bot sevensum of thame all; 50
And by thair cumis the gredy gled,
And likkit up five, left him bot twa.
Than out he ran in all his mane,
How sune he hard the gaislingis cry;
Bot than or he come in agane, 55
The calfis brak louss and sowkit the ky.

The calvis and ky being met in the lone,
The man ran with ane rung to red;
Than by thair cumis ane ill-willy cow,
And brodit his buttok quhill that it bled. 60
Than hame he ran to an rok of tow,
And he satt doun to say the spynning;
I trow he lowtit our neir the low,
Quoth he, "This wark hes ill begynning."

Than to the kyrn that he did stoure, 65
And jumlit at it quhill he swatt:
Quhen he had jumlit a full lang houre,
The sorrow crap of butter he gatt.
Albeit na butter he could gett,
Yit he wes cummerit with the kyrne, 70
And syne he het the milk our hett,
And sorrow a spark of it wald yirne.

Than ben thair come ane gredy sow,
I trow he cund hir littil thank;
For in scho schot hir mekle mow, 75
And ay scho winkit and scho drank.
He cleikit up ane crukit club,
And thocht to hitt the sow ane rout;
The twa gaislingis the gled had left,
That straik dang baith thair harnis out. 80

[He gat his foot upon the spyre,[L81-88]
To have gotten the flesche doune to the pat;
He fell backward into the fyre,
And brack his head on the keming stock.
Yit he gat the mekle pat upon the fyre, 85
And gat twa cannes, and ran to the spout;
Er he came in, quhat thought ye of that?
The fyre brunt aw the pat-a... out.]

Than he beur kendling to the kill,
But scho start all up in ane low; 90
Quhat evir he hard, quhat evir he saw,
That day he had na will to mow.
Then he yeid to tak up the bairnis,
Thocht to haif fund thame fair and clene;
The first that he gat in his armis 95
Was all bedirtin to the ene.

The first that he gat in his armis,
It was all dirt up to the eine;
"The devill cut of thair handes," quoth he,
"That fild you all sa fow this strene." 100
He trailit foull scheitis doun the gait,
Thought to haif wescht thame on ane stane;
The burne wes rissin grit of spait,
Away fra him the scheitis hes tane.

Then up he gat on ane know heid, 105
On hir to cry, on hir to schout;[L106]
Scho hard him, and scho hard him not,
Bot stoutly steird the stottis about.
Scho draif the day unto the night,
Scho lousit the pluch, and syne come hame; 110
Scho fand all wrang that sould bene richt,
I trow the man thought richt grit schame.

Quoth he, "My office I forsaik,
For all the dayis of my lyf,
For I wald put ane house to wraik, 115
Had I bene twenty dayis gudwyf."
Quoth scho, "Weill mote ye bruke your place,
For trewlie I will never excep it:"
Quoth he, "Feind fall the lyaris face,
Bot yit ye may be blyth to get it." 120

Than up scho gat ane mekle rung,
And the gudman maid to the doir;[L122]
Quoth he, "Dame, I sall hald my tung,
For and we fecht I'ill get the woir."
Quoth he, "Quhen I forsuk my pluche, 125
I trow I but forsuk my seill;
And I will to my pluch agane,
Ffor I and this howse will nevir do weill."

81-88. This stanza, which does not occur in the Bannatyne MS., or in the ordinary printed copies, is given by Laing from a MS. "written in a hand not much later than the year 1600."

106. MS. cray.

122. MS. dur.

THE FRIAR IN THE WELL.

An old story, often referred to, e. g. in Skelton's _Colyn Cloute_, v. 879. The ballad is found in various collections in the British Museum, and is cited in part from one of these, in Dyce's note to the passage in Skelton. There is a Scottish version in Kinloch's _Ballad Book_, p. 25. The following is from Durfey's _Pills to Purge Melancholy_, iii. 325 (_The Fryer and the Maid_), but as that copy is abridged, we have supplied the omitted stanzas from Chappell's _Popular Music_, p. 273.

As I lay musing all alone,
A merry tale I thought upon;
Now listen a while, and I will you tell
Of a fryer that loved a bonny lass well.

He came to her when she was going to bed, 5
Desiring to have her maidenhead;
But she denyed his desire,
And said that she did fear hell-fire.

"Tush, tush," quoth the fryer, "thou needst not doubt,
If thou wert in hell, I could sing thee out:" 10
"Why then," quoth the maid, "thou shalt have thy request;"
The fryer was as glad as a fox in his nest.

"But one thing more I must require,[L13]
More than to sing me out of hell-fire;
That is, for doing of the thing, 15
An angel of money you must me bring."

"Tush, tush," quoth the fryer, "we two shall agree;
No money shall part thee, [my love,] and me;
Before thy company I will lack,
I'll pawn the grey gown off my back." 20

The maid bethought her on a wile,
How she might this fryer beguile.
When he was gone, the truth to tell,
She hung a cloth before a well.

The fryer came, as his bargain was, 25
With money unto his bonny lass;
"Good morrow, fair maid;" "Good morrow," quoth she;
"Here is the money I promis'd thee."

She thank'd him, and she took the money:
"Now lets go to't, my own dear honey:" 30
"Nay, stay awhile, some respite make;
If my master should come, he would us take."

"Alas!" quoth the maid, "my master doth come."
"Alas!" quoth the fryer, "where shall I run?"
"Behind yon cloth run thou," quoth she, 35
"For there my master cannot see."

Behind the cloth the fryer went,
And was in the well incontinent.
"Alas!" quoth he, "I'm in the well;"
"No matter," quoth she, "if thou wert in hell. 40

"Thou saidst thou could sing me out of hell:
I prithee sing thyself out of the well.
Sing out," quoth she, "with all thy might,
Or else thou'rt like to sing there all night."

The fryer sang out with a pitiful sound, 45
"O help me out, or I shall be drown'd."
["I trow," quoth she, "your courage is cool'd;"
Quoth the fryer, "I never was so fool'd.
"I never was served so before;"
"Then take heed," quoth she, "thou com'st here no more." 50

Quoth he, "For sweet St. Francis sake,
On his disciple some pity take:"
Quoth she, "St. Francis never taught
His scholars to tempt young maids to naught."

The friar did entreat her still 55
That she would help him out of the well:
She heard him make such piteous moan,
She help'd him out, and bid him begone.

Quoth he, "Shall I have my money again,
Which from me thou hast before-hand ta'en?" 60
"Good sir," quoth she, "there's no such matter;
I'll make you pay for fouling the water."

The friar went along the street,
Dropping wet, like a new-wash'd sheep;
Both old and young commended the maid 65
That such a witty prank had play'd.]

13. request.

GET UP AND BAR THE DOOR.

Herd's _Scottish Songs_, ii. 63.

First printed by Herd in a slightly different form, ed. 1776, ii. 159; also Johnson's _Museum_, p. 310, and Ritson's _Scottish Songs_, i. 226. The hero of this story is traditionally known as one Johnie Blunt, who lived on Crawford Moor. Several versions of a song called by his name are current among the Scottish peasantry, one of which is given in Johnson's _Museum_, p. 376.--This ballad, says Stenhouse, furnished Prince Hoare with one of the principal scenes in his musical entertainment of _No Song, no Supper_, "acted at Drury Lane in 1790, and since throughout the United Kingdom with great success."

It fell about the Martinmas time,
And a gay time it was than,
That our gudewife had puddings to mak,
And she boil'd them in the pan.

The wind blew cauld frae east and north, 5
And blew into the floor;
Quoth our gudeman to our gudewife,
"Get up and bar the door."

"My hand is in my hussyskep,
Goodman, as ye may see; 10
An' it shou'dna be barr'd this hunder year,
It's ne'er be barr'd by me."

They made a paction 'tween them twa,
They made it firm and sure,
That the first word whaever spak, 15
Should rise and bar the door.

Than by there came twa gentlemen,
At twelve o'clock at night,
Whan they can see na ither house,
And at the door they light. 20

"Now whether is this a rich man's house,
Or whether is it a poor?"
But ne'er a word wad ane o' them speak,
For barring of the door.

And first they ate the white puddings, 25
And syne they ate the black:
Muckle thought the gudewife to hersell,
Yet ne'er a word she spak.

Then ane unto the ither said,
"Here, man, tak ye my knife; 30
Do ye tak aff the auld man's beard,
And I'll kiss the gudewife."

"But there's na water in the house,
And what shall we do than?"
"What ails ye at the pudding bree 35
That boils into the pan?"

O up then started our gudeman,
An angry man was he;
"Will ye kiss my wife before my een,
And scald me wi' pudding bree?"

O up then started our gudewife, 40
Gied three skips on the floor;
"Gudeman, you have spak the first word;
Get up and bar the door."

THE DRAGON OF WANTLEY.

Percy's _Reliques_, iii. 350. _Old Ballads_, i. 37.

This in its way most admirable ballad is clearly a parody of some ancient _K[oe]mpevise_. The armor studded with spikes connects this story with the legend of the _Worm of Lambton_ (see vol. i. p. 281, and _post_, p. 136), which, we are inclined to think with Grundtvig (i. 346), may have some radical connection with Regner Lodbrog's fight with the snake that guarded Thora's bower. The well in v. 100 corresponds to the pit in which the hero stands in _Ormekampen_, Grundtvig, i. 342.--Printed by Percy from a copy in Roman letter, in the Pepys Collection, "collated with such others as could be procured." PERCY.

Old stories tell how Hercules
A dragon slew at Lerna,
With seven heads, and fourteen eyes,
To see and well discerne-a:
But he had a club, this dragon to drub, 5
Or he had ne'er done it, I warrant ye:
But More of More-Hall, with nothing at all,
He slew the dragon of Wantley.

This dragon had two furious wings,
Each one upon each shoulder; 10
With a sting in his tayl, as long as a flayl,
Which made him bolder and bolder.
He had long claws, and in his jaws
Four and forty teeth of iron;
With a hide as tough as any buff, 15
Which did him round environ.

Have you not heard how the Trojan horse
Held seventy men in his belly?
This dragon was not quite so big,
But very near, I'll tell ye. 20
Devoured he poor children three,
That could not with him grapple;
And at one sup he eat them up,
As one would eat an apple.

All sorts of cattle this dragon did eat; 25
Some say he ate up trees,
And that the forests sure he would
Devour up by degrees;
For houses and churches were to him geese and turkies;[L29]
He ate all, and left none behind, 30
But some stones, dear Jack, that he could not crack,
Which on the hills you will find.

In Yorkshire, near fair Rotherham,
The place I know it well,
Some two or three miles, or thereabouts, 35
I vow I cannot tell;
But there is a hedge, just on the hill edge,
And Matthew's house hard by it;
O there and then was this dragon's den,
You could not chuse but spy it. 40

Some say, this dragon was a witch;
Some say, he was a devil;
For from his nose a smoke arose,
And with it burning snivel;
Which he cast off, when he did cough, 45
In a well that he did stand by,
Which made it look just like a brook
Running with burning brandy.

Hard by a furious knight there dwelt,
Of whom all towns did ring, 50
For he could wrestle, play at quarter-staff, kick, cuff and huff,
Call son of a w...., do any kind of thing.
By the tail and the main, with his hands twain,
He swung a horse till he was dead;
And that which is stranger, he for very anger 55
Eat him all up but his head.

These children, as I told, being eat,
Men, women, girls, and boys,
Sighing and sobbing, came to his lodging,
And made a hideous noise; 60
"O save us all, More of More-Hall,
Thou peerless knight of these woods;
Do but slay this dragon, who won't leave us a rag on,
We'll give thee all our goods."

"Tut, tut," quoth he, "no goods I want: 65
But I want, I want, in sooth,
A fair maid of sixteen, that's brisk and keen,
With smiles about the mouth,
Hair black as sloe, skin white as snow,
With blushes her cheeks adorning, 70
To anoynt me o'er night, ere I go to fight,
And to dress me in the morning."

This being done, he did engage
To hew the dragon down;
But first he went, new armour to 75
Bespeak at Sheffield town;
With spikes all about, not within but without,
Of steel so sharp and strong,
Both behind and before, arms, legs, and all o'er,
Some five or six inches long. 80

Had you but seen him in this dress,
How fierce he look'd and how big,
You would have thought him for to be
Some Egyptian porcupig.
He frighted all, cats, dogs, and all, 85
Each cow, each horse, and each hog:
For fear they did flee, for they took him to be
Some strange outlandish hedge-hog.

To see this fight, all people then
Got up on trees and houses; 90
On churches some, and chimneys too;
But these put on their trowses,
Not to spoil their hose. As soon as he rose,
To make him strong and mighty,
He drank by the tale, six pots of ale, 95
And a quart of aqua-vitæ.

It is not strength that always wins,
For wit doth strength excell;
Which made our cunning champion
Creep down into a well, 100
Where he did think, this dragon would drink,
And so he did in truth;
And as he stoop'd low, he rose up and cry'd, "Boh!"
And hit him in the mouth.

"Oh," quoth the dragon, "pox take thee, come out! 105
Thou disturb'st me in my drink:"
And then he turn'd, and s... at him;
Good lack how he did stink!
"Beshrew thy soul, thy body's foul,
Thy dung smells not like balsam; 110
Thou son of a w...., thou stink'st so sore,
Sure thy diet is unwholesome."

Our politick knight, on the other side,
Crept out upon the brink,
And gave the dragon such a douse, 115
He knew not what to think:
"By cock," quoth he, "say you so, do you see?"
And then at him he let fly
With hand and with foot, and so they went to't;
And the word it was, Hey boys, hey! 120

"Your words," quoth the dragon, "I don't understand";
Then to it they fell at all,
Like two wild boars so fierce, if I may
Compare great things with small.
Two days and a night, with this dragon did fight 125
Our champion on the ground;
Though their strength it was great, their skill it was neat,
They never had one wound.

At length the hard earth began to quake,
The dragon gave him a knock, 130
Which made him to reel, and straitway he thought,
To lift him as high as a rock,
And thence let him fall. But More of More-Hall,
Like a valiant son of Mars,
As he came like a lout, so he turn'd him about,
And hit him a kick on the a... 136

"Oh," quoth the dragon, with a deep sigh,
And turn'd six times together,
Sobbing and tearing, cursing and swearing,
Out of his throat of leather; 140

"More of More-Hall! O thou rascàl!
Would I had seen thee never;
With the thing at thy foot, thou hast prick'd my a... gut,
And I am quite undone forever."

"Murder, murder," the dragon cry'd, 145
"Alack, alack, for grief;
Had you but mist that place, you could
Have done me no mischief."
Then his head he shaked, trembled and quaked,
And down he laid and cry'd; 150
First on one knee, then on back tumbled he,
So groan'd, kickt, s..., and dy'd.

29, were to him gorse and birches. Other copies.

* * * * *

[Asterism] In the improved edition of the _Reliques_, a most extraordinary attempt to explain the foregoing burlesque as an allegory (!) is made in a "Key" appended to the ballad, and said to be "communicated by Godfrey Bosville, Esq., of Thorp, near Malton, in Yorkshire."

"Warncliff Lodge, and Warncliff Wood (vulgarly pronounced Wantley), are in the parish of Penniston, in Yorkshire. The rectory of Penniston was part of the dissolved monastery of St. Stephen's, Westminster; and was granted to the Duke of Norfolk's family: who therewith endowed an hospital, which he built at Sheffield, for women. The trustees let the impropriation of the great tithes of Penniston to the Wortley family, who got a great deal by it, and wanted to get still more: for Mr. Nicholas Wortley attempted to take the tithes in kind, but Mr. Francis Bosville opposed him, and there was a decree in favour of the modus in 37th Eliz. The vicarage of Penniston did not go along with the rectory, but with the copyhold rents, and was part of a large purchase made by Ralph Bosville, Esq., from Queen Elizabeth, in the 2d year of her reign: and that part he sold in 12th Eliz. to his elder brother Godfrey, the father of Francis; who left it, with the rest of his estate, to his wife, for her life, and then to Ralph, third son of his uncle Ralph. The widow married Lyonel Rowlestone, lived eighteen years, and survived Ralph.

"This premised, the ballad apparently relates to the lawsuit carried on concerning this claim of tithes made by the Wortley family. 'Houses and churches were to him geese and turkeys:' which are titheable things, the Dragon chose to live on. Sir Francis Wortley, the son of Nicholas, attempted again to take the tithes in kind: but the parishioners subscribed an agreement to defend their modus. And at the head of the agreement was Lyonel Rowlestone, who is supposed to be one of 'the stones, dear Jack, which the Dragon could not crack.' The agreement is still preserved in a large sheet of parchment, dated 1st of James I., and is full of names and seals, which might be meant by the coat of armour, "with spikes all about, both within and without." More of More-hall was either the attorney, or counsellor, who conducted the suit. He is not distinctly remembered, but More-hall is still extant at the very bottom of Wantley [Warncliff] Wood, and lies so low, that it might be said to be in a well: as the Dragon's den [Warncliff Lodge] was at the top of the wood 'with Matthew's house hard by it.' The keepers belonging to the Wortley family were named, for many generations, Matthew Northall: the last of them left this lodge, within memory, to be keeper to the Duke of Norfolk. The present owner of More-hall still attends Mr. Bosville's Manor Court at Oxspring, and pays a rose a year. 'More of More-Hall, with nothing at all, slew the Dragon of Wantley.' He gave him, instead of tithes, so small a modus, that it was in effect, nothing at all, and was slaying him with a vengeance. 'The poor children three,' &c., cannot surely mean the three sisters of Francis Bosville, who would have been coheiresses, had he made no will? The late Mr. Bosville had a contest with the descendants of two of them, the late Sir George Saville's father, and Mr. Copley, about the presentation to Penniston, they supposing Francis had not the power to give this part of the estate from the heirs at law; but it was decided against them. The Dragon (Sir Francis Wortley) succeeded better with his cousin Wordesworth, the freehold lord of the manor, (for it is the copyhold manor that belongs to Mr. Bosville,) having persuaded him not to join the refractory parishioners, under a promise that he would let him his tithes cheap: and now the estates of Wortley and Wordesworth are the only lands that pay tithes in the parish.

"N. B. The 'two days and a night,' mentioned in ver. 125, as the duration of the combat, was probably that of the trial at law."

* * * * *

NOTE to p. 128, and p. 131, v. 75-80. Grundtvig, ii. 653, refers to a B[oe]otian legend in Pausanias ix. 26, 5, for an instance of a similar contrivance. The story goes, that one Menestratus, to save a friend who was about to be exposed in due course to a dragon, made himself a brazen breastplate, which had on every scale a hook with the point bent upwards. Armed in this, he went voluntarily to meet the monster, and destroyed him, though at the expense of his own life.