Chapter VI: Part THE FIRST (2)

All that beheard his litle footepage, 25
As he watered his masters steed;
And for his masters sad perille
His verry heart did bleed.

He mourned still, and wept full sore;
I sweare by the holy roode 30
The teares he for his master wept
Were blent water and bloude.[140]

And that beheard his deare mastèr
As he stood at his garden pale:
Sayes, Ever alacke, my litle foot-page, 35
What causes thee to wail?

Hath any one done to thee wronge
Any of thy fellowes here?
Or is any of thy good friends dead,
That thou shedst manye a teare? 40

Or, if it be my head bookes-man,[141]
Aggrieved he shal bee:
For no man here within my howse,
Shall doe wrong unto thee.

O, it is not your head bookes-man, 45
Nor none of his degree:
But, on to-morrow ere it be noone[142]
All deemed[143] to die are yee.

And of that bethank your head stewàrd,
And thank your gay ladie. 50
If this be true, my litle foot-page,
The heyre of my land thoust bee.

If it be not true, my dear mastèr,
No good death let me die.
If it be not true, thou litle foot-page, 55
A dead corse shalt thou lie.[144]

O call now downe my faire ladye,
O call her downe to mee:
And tell my ladye gay how sicke,
And like to die I bee. 60

Downe then came his ladye faire,
All clad in purple and pall:
The rings that were on her fingèrs,
Cast light thorrow the hall.

What is your will, my owne wed-lord? 65
What is your will with mee?
O see, my ladye deere, how sicke,
And like to die I bee.

And thou be sicke, my own wed-lord,
Soe sore it grieveth me: 70
But my five maydens and myselfe
Will "watch thy" bedde for thee:[145]

And at the waking of your first sleepe,
We will a hott drinke make:
And at the waking of your "next" sleepe,[146] 75
Your sorrowes we will slake.

He put a silk cote on his backe,
And mail of manye a fold:
And hee putt a steele cap on his head,
Was gilt with good red gold. 80

He layd a bright browne sword by his side,
And another att his feete:
"And twentye good knights he placed at hand,
To watch him in his sleepe."

And about the middle time of the night, 85
Came twentye-four traitours inn:
Sir Giles he was the foremost man,
The leader of that ginn.[147]

Old Robin with his bright browne sword,
Sir Gyles head soon did winn: 90
And scant of all those twenty-four,
Went out one quick[148] agenn.

None save only a litle foot page,
Crept forth at a window of stone:
And he had two armes when he came in, 95
And he went back with one.

Upp then came that ladie gaye
With torches burning bright:
She thought to have brought sir Gyles a drinke,
Butt she found her owne wedd knight. 100

The first thinge that she stumbled on
It was sir Gyles his foote:
Sayes, Ever alacke, and woe is mee!
Here lyes my sweete hart-roote.

The next thinge that she stumbled on 105
It was sir Gyles his heade;
Sayes, Ever, alacke, and woe is me!
Heere lyes my true love deade.

Hee cutt the pappes beside her brest,
And did her body spille;[149] 110
He cutt the eares beside her heade,
And bade her love her fille.

He called then up his litle foot-page,
And made him there his heyre;
And sayd henceforth my worldlye goodes 115
And countrye I forsweare.

He shope[150] the crosse on his right shouldèr,
Of the white "clothe" and the redde,[151]
And went him into the holy land,
Wheras Christ was quicke and dead. 120

* * * * *

[The following is the original ballad from the Folio MS. ed. Hales and Furnivall, vol. i. p. 235.

God! let neuer soe old a man
marry so yonge a wiffe
as did old Robin of portingale!
he may rue all the dayes of his liffe. 4

ffor the Maiors daughter of Lin, god wott,
he chose her to his wife,
& thought to haue liued in quiettnesse
with her all the dayes of his liffe. 8

they had not in their wed bed laid,
scarcly were both on sleepe,
but vpp shee rose, & forth shee goes
to Sir Gyles, & fast can weepe, 12

Saies, "sleepe you, wake you, faire Sir Gyles,
or be not you within?"

"but I am waking, sweete," he said,
"Lady, what is your will?" 16
"I haue vnbethought me of a will,
how my wed Lord we shall spill.

"24 knights, she sayes,
that dwells about this towne, 20
eene 24 of my Next Cozens,
will helpe to dinge him downe."

with that beheard his litle foote page
as he was watering his Masters steed, 24
Soe s * * * *
his verry heart did bleed;

he mourned, sist, and wept full sore;
I sweare by the holy roode, 28
the teares he for his Master wept
were blend water & bloude.

with that beheard his deare Master
as in his garden sate, 32
says, "euer alacke my litle page!
what causes thee to weepe?

"hath any one done to thee wronge,
any of thy fellowes here, 36
or is any of thy good friends dead
which makes thee shed such teares?

"or if it be my head bookes man,
grieued againe he shalbe, 40
nor noe man within my howse
shall doe wrong vnto thee."

"but it is not your head bookes man,
nor none of his degree, 44
but or to morrow, ere it be Noone,
you are deemed to die;

"& of that thanke your head Steward,
& after your gay Ladie." 48
"If it be true, my little foote page,
Ile make thee heyre of all my land."

"if it be not true, my deare Master,
god let me neuer dye." 52
"if it be not true, thou little foot page,
a dead corse shalt thou be."

he called downe his head kookes man,
cooke in kitchen super to dresse: 56
"all & anon, my deare Master,
anon at your request."

"& call you downe my faire Lady,
this night to supp with mee." 60

& downe then came that fayre Lady,
was cladd all in purple & palle,
the rings that were vpon her fingers
cast light thorrow the hall. 64

"What is your will, my owne wed Lord,
what is your will with mee?"
"I am sicke, fayre Lady,
sore sicke, & like to dye." 68

"but & you be sicke, my owne wed Lord,
soe sore it greiueth mee,
but my 5 maydens & my selfe
will goe & make your bedd, 72

"& at the wakening of your first sleepe,
you shall haue a hott drinke Made,
& at the wakening of your first sleepe
your sorrowes will haue a slake." 76

he put a silke cote on his backe,
was 13 inches folde,
& put a steele cap vpon his head,
was gilded with good red gold; 80

& he layd a bright browne sword by his side,
& another att his ffeete,
& full well knew old Robin then
whether he shold wake or sleepe. 84

& about the Middle time of the Night
came 24 good knights in,
Syr Gyles he was the formost man,
soe well he knew that ginne. 88

Old Robin with a bright browne sword
Sir Gyles head he did winne,
soe did he all those 24,
neuer a one went quicke out [agen;] 92

none but one litle foot page
crept forth at a window of stone,
& he had 2 armes when he came in
And [when he went out he had none]. 96

Vpp then came that Ladie bright
with torches burning light;
shee thought to haue brought Sir Gyles a drinke,
but shee found her owne wedd Knight, 100

& the first thinge that this Ladye stumbled vpon,
was of Sir Gyles his ffoote,
sayes, "euer alacke, and woe is me,
heere lyes my sweete hart roote!" 104

& the 2^d thing that this Ladie stumbled on,
was of Sir Gyles his head,
sayes, "euer alacke, and woe is me,
heere lyes my true loue deade!" 108

hee cutt the papps beside he[r] brest,
& bad her wish her will,
& he cutt the eares beside her heade,
& bade her wish on still. 112

"Mickle is the mans blood I haue spent
to doe thee & me some good,"
sayes, "euer alacke, my fayre Lady,
I thinke that I was woode?" 116

he calld then vp his litle foote page,
& made him heyre of all his land,
& he shope the crosse in his right sholder
of the white flesh & the redd. 120
& he sent him into the holy land
wheras Christ was quicke & dead.

ffins.]

FOOTNOTES:

[137] Ver. 19. _unbethought_, (properly _onbethought_) this word is still used in the Midland counties in the same sense as _bethought_.

[138] [spoil or kill.]

[139] [knock.]

[140] V. 32. blend, MS.

[141] [clerk.]

[142] Ver. 47. or to-morrow, MS.

[143] [doomed.]

[144] V. 56. bee, MS.

[145] Ver. 72. make the, MS.

[146] V. 75. first, MS.

[147] [snare.]

[148] [alive.]

[149] Ver. 118. fleshe, MS.

[150] [shaped.]

[151] Every person who went on a _Croisade_ to the Holy Land, usually wore a cross on his upper garment, on the right shoulder, as a badge of his profession. Different nations were distinguished by crosses of different colours: The English wore white; the French red; &c. This circumstance seems to be confounded in the ballad. (V. Spelman, _Gloss_.)

IX.

CHILD WATERS.

_Child_ is frequently used by our old writers, as a Title. It is repeatedly given to Prince Arthur in the Fairie Queen: and the son of a king is in the same poem called "Child Tristram." (B. 5. c. 11. st. 8. 13.--B. 6. c. 2. st. 36.--_Ibid._ c. 8. st. 15.) In an old ballad quoted in Shakespeare's _K. Lear_, the hero of Ariosto is called _Child Roland_. Mr. Theobald supposes this use of the word was received along with their romances from the Spaniards, with whom _Infante_ signifies a "Prince." A more eminent critic tells us, that "in the old times of chivalry, the noble youth, who were candidates for knighthood, during the time of their probation were called _Infans_, _Varlets_, _Damoysels_, _Bacheliers_. The most noble of the youth were particularly called _Infans_." (Vid. Warb. Shakesp.) A late commentator on Spenser observes, that the Saxon word cniht, knight, signifies also a "child." (See Upton's gloss to the F. Q.)

The Editor's folio MS. whence the following piece is taken (with some corrections), affords several other ballads, wherein the word _Child_ occurs as a title: but in none of these it signifies "Prince." See the song intitled _Gil Morrice_, in this volume.

It ought to be observed, that the Word _Child_ or _Chield_ is still used in North Britain to denominate a Man, commonly with some contemptuous character affixed to him, but sometimes to denote Man in general.

* * * * *

[This ballad gives us a curious insight into ancient manners, and
shows what were our forefathers' notions of the perfection of
female character. They would have agreed with the propounder of
the question--What is woman's mission? answer, sub-mission. Like
patient Grissel, Ellen bears worse sufferings than the Nut-Brown
Maid has to hear of, and in spite of the worst usage she never
swerves from her devotion. This English version was the first
published, but the story is the same as _Lai le Frêne_, preserved
in English in the Auchinleck MS. and in Norman in the _Lais_ of
Marie, which were written about the year 1250.

Jamieson (_Popular Ballads and Songs_, 1806, vol. i. p. 113)
published his Scottish version under the more appropriate name
of _Burd Ellen_, who is the real heroine rather than the ruffian
Waters is the hero. Adopting the idea of Mrs. Hampden Pye, who
wrote a ballad on the same subject, he changes the character of the
catastrophe by adding three concluding stanzas to wind up the story
in an unhappy manner. Another version of the ballad, which ends
happily, is given in Kinloch's _Ancient Scottish Ballads_ under the
title of Lady Margaret. A German version of this ballad was made by
the poet Bürger.]

* * * * *

Childe Waters in his stable stoode
And stroakt his milke white steede
To him a fayre yonge ladye came[152]
As ever ware womans weede.[153]

Sayes, Christ you save, good Childe Waters; 5
Sayes, Christ you save, and see:
My girdle of gold that was too longe,[154]
Is now too short for mee.

And all is with one chyld of yours,
I feele sturre att my side; 10
My gowne of greene it is too straighte;
Before, it was too wide.

If the child be mine, faire Ellen, he sayd,
Be mine as you tell mee;
Then take you Cheshire and Lancashire both,[155] 15
Take them your owne to bee.

If the childe be mine, faire Ellen, he sayd,
Be mine, as you doe sweare:
Then take you Cheshire and Lancashire both,
And make that child your heyre. 20

Shee saies, I had rather have one kisse,
Child Waters, of thy mouth;
Than I wolde have Cheshire and Lancashire both,
That lye by north and south.[156]

And I had rather have one twinkling,[157] 25
Childe Waters, of thine ee:[158]
Then I wolde have Cheshire and Lancashire both
To take them mine owne to bee.

To morrow, Ellen, I must forth ryde
Farr into the north countrie;[159] 30
The fairest lady that I can find,
Ellen, must goe with mee.

[Thoughe I am not that lady fayre,
Yet let me go with thee.]
And ever I pray you, Child Watèrs, 35
Your foot-page let me bee.

If you will my foot-page be, Ellèn,
As you doe tell to mee;[160]
Then you must cut your gowne of greene,
An inch above your knee: 40

Soe must you doe your yellowe lockes,
An inch above your ee:[161]
You must tell no man what is my name;
My foot-page then you shall bee.

Shee, all the long day Child Waters rode,[162] 45
Ran barefoote by his side;[163]
Yett was he never so courteous a knighte,
To say, Ellen, will you ryde?

Shee, all the long day Child Waters rode,[164]
Ran barefoote thorow the broome;[165] 50
Yett hee was never soe curteous a knighte,
To say, put on your shoone.[166]

Ride softlye, shee sayd, O Childe Waters,[167]
Why doe you ryde soe fast?
The childe, which is no mans but thine,[168] 55
My bodye itt will brast.[169]

Hee sayth, seest thou yonder water, Ellen,[170]
That flows from banke to brimme.--
I trust to God, O Child Waters,[171]
You never will see[172] mee swimme. 60

But when shee came to the waters side,
Shee sayled to the chinne:
Except the Lord of heaven be my speed,
Now must I learne to swimme.

The salt waters bare up her clothes;[173] 65
Our Ladye bare upp her chinne:
Childe Waters was a woe man, good Lord,[174]
To see faire Ellen swimme.

And when shee over the water was,
Shee then came to his knee: 70
He said, Come hither, thou faire Ellèn,[175]
Loe yonder what I see.

Seest thou not yonder hall, Ellèn?
Of redd gold shines the yate:[176]
Of twenty foure faire ladyes there,[177] 75
The fairest is my mate.[178]

Seest thou not yonder hall, Ellèn?
Of redd gold shines the towre:[179]
There are twenty four faire ladyes there,[180]
The fairest is my paramoure. 80

I see the hall now, Child Waters,[181]
Of redd gold shines the yate:[182]
God give you good now of yourselfe,[183]
And of your worthye mate.[184]

I see the hall now, Child Waters,[181] 85
Of redd golde shines the towre:[182]
God give you good now of yourselfe,[183]
And of your paramoure.

There twenty four fayre ladyes were[185]
A playing att the ball:[186] 90
And Ellen the fairest ladye there,[187]
Must bring his steed to the stall.

There twenty four fayre ladyes were[188]
A playinge at the chesse;[189]
And Ellen the fayrest ladye there,[190] 95
Must bring his horse to gresse.[191]

And then bespake Childe Waters sister,
These were the wordes said shee:[192]
You have the prettyest foot-page, brother,
That ever I saw with mine ee.[193] 100

But that his bellye it is soe bigg,
His girdle goes wonderous hie:
And let him, I pray you, Childe Watèrs,[194]
Goe into the chamber with mee.[195]

[It is not fit for a little foot-page, 105
That has run throughe mosse and myre,
To go into the chamber with any ladye.
That weares soe riche attyre.]

It is more meete for a litle foot-page,
That has run throughe mosse and myre. 110
To take his supper upon his knee,
And sitt downe by the kitchen fyer.[196]

But when they had supped every one,
To bedd they tooke theyr waye:[197]
He sayd, come hither, my little foot-page, 115
And hearken what I saye.[198]

Goe thee downe into yonder towne,[199]
And low into the street;
The fayrest ladye that thou can finde,
Hyer her in mine armes to sleepe, 120
And take her up in thine armes twaine,[200]
For filinge[201] of her feete.

Ellen is gone into the towne,
And low into the streete:
The fairest ladye that shee cold find, 125
Shee hyred in his armes to sleepe;
And tooke her up in her armes twayne,[202]
For filing of her feete.

I praye you nowe, good Childe Watèrs,
Let mee lye at your bedds feete:[203] 130
For there is noe place about this house,
Where I may 'saye a slepe[204].

[He gave her leave, and faire Ellèn
Down at his beds feet laye:]
This done the nighte drove on apace,[205] 135
And when it was neare the daye,[205]

Hee sayd, Rise up, my litle foot-page,
Give my steede corne and haye;[206]
And soe doe thou the good black oats,
To carry mee better awaye.[207] 140

Up then rose the faire Ellèn[208]
And gave his steede corne and hay:
And soe shee did the good blacke oates,[209]
To carry him the better away.[210]

Shee leaned her backe to the manger side,[211] 145
And grievouslye did groane:
[Shee leaned her back to the manger side,
And there shee made her moane.]

And that beheard his mother deere,
Shee heard her there monand.[212] 150
Shee sayd, Rise up, thou Child Watèrs,
I think thee a cursed man.[213]

For in thy stable is a ghost,[214]
That grievouslye doth grone.
Or else some woman laboures of childe, 155
She is soe woe-begone.

Up then rose Childe Waters soon,[215]
And did on his shirte of silke;
And then he put on his other clothes,[216]
On his body as white as milke. 160

And when he came to the stable dore,
Full still there hee did stand,[217]
That hee mighte heare his fayre Ellèn,[218]
Howe shee made her monànd[219].

She sayd, Lullabye, mine owne deere child,[220] 165
Lullabye, dere child, dere:
I wold thy father were a king,
Thy mother layd on a biere.

Peace now, hee said, good faire Ellèn.
Be of good cheere, I praye;[221] 170
And the bridal and the churching both
Shall bee upon one day.[222]

FOOTNOTES:

[152] [Ver. 3. to him came, MS.]

[153] [V. 4. as ere did weare, MS.]

[154] [V. 7. which was. MS.]

[155] V. 15. then not in MS.

[156] [V. 24. that lyes.]

[157] [V. 25. have a.]

[158] [V. 26. of your eye.]

[159] [V. 30. soe ffarr.]

[160] [V. 38. tell itt mee.]

[161] [V. 42. another inch above your eye. MS.]

[162] [Ver. 45. all this long. _Shee_ not in MS.]

[163] [V. 46. shee ran.]

[164] [V. 49. but all this day.]

[165] [V. 50. shee ran.]

[166] [V. 52. as to say.]

[167] [V. 53. _O_ not in MS.]

[168] [V. 55. but yours.]

[169] [V. 56. burst.]

[170] [V. 57. he sayes, sees.]

[171] [V. 59. Child Waters, shee said.]

[172] _i.e._ permit, suffer, &c.

[173] [V. 65. Ellen's clothes.]

[174] [V. 67. and Child Waters.]

[175] [V. 71. _thou_ not in MS.]

[176] [Ver. 74. shine the yates. MS.]

[177] [V. 75. theres 24 ffayre ladyes.]

[178] [V. 76. the ffairest is my worldlye make.]

[179] [V. 78. Shineth.]

[180] [V. 79. there is 24 ffaire ladyes.]

[181] [V. 81, 85. I doe see.]

[182] [V. 82, 86. that of redd gold shineth the yates.]

[183] [V. 83, 87. God give good then.]

[184] [V. 84. worldlye make.]

[185] [V. 89. there were 24 ladyes.]

[186] [V. 90. were playing.]

[187] [V. 91. Ellen was the fairest ladye.]

[188] [V. 93. there were.]

[189] [V. 94. was playing.]

[190] [V. 95. shee was the ffairest ladye.]

[191] [V. 96. grasse.]

[192] [V. 98. and these.]

[193] [V. 100. eye. MS.]

[194] [Ver. 103. and ever I pray. MS.]

[195] [V. 104. let him goe.]

[196] [After V. 112 the two lines

then goe into the chamber with any ladye
that weares soe ... attyre

occur in the MS.]

[197] [V. 114. they waye.]

[198] [V. 116. hearken what I doe say.]

[199] [V. 117. and goe thy.]

[200] [V. 121. armes 2. MS.]

[201] _i.e._ defiling. See Warton's _Observ._ vol. ii. p. 158.

[202] [V. 127. and tooke her in her armes 2.]

[203] [V. 130. that I may creape in att.]

[204] Ver. 132. _i.e._ essay, attempt

[205] [V. 135-6.

this and itt drove now afterward
till itt was neere the day.]

[206] [V. 138. and give.]

[207] [V. 140. that he may carry me the better away.]

[208] [V. 141. and up then rose the.]

[209] [V. 143. did on.]

[210] [V. 144. that he might carry him.]

[211] [V. 145. she layned.]

[212] [V. 150. and heard her make her moane.]

[213] [V. 152. I think thou art a. MS.]

[214] [Ver. 153. for yonder is a ghost in thy stable.]

[215] [V. 157. but up then rose Childe Waters.]

[216] [V. 159. _and_ not in MS.]

[217] [V. 162. full still that.]

[218] [V. 163. heare now faire.]

[219] _sic_ in MS., _i.e._ moaning, bemoaning, &c.

[220] [V. 165. my owne.]

[221] [V. 170. and be of good cheere I thee pray.]

[222] [V. 172. they shall, MS.]

X.

PHILLIDA AND CORYDON.

This Sonnet is given from a small quarto MS. in the Editor's possession, written in the time of Q. Elizabeth. Another Copy of it containing some variations, is reprinted in the _Muses' Library_, p. 295, from an ancient miscellany, intitled _England's Helicon_, 1600, 4to. The author was _Nicholas Breton_, a writer of some fame in the reign of Elizabeth; who also published an interlude intitled _An old man's lesson and a young man's love_, 4to., and many other little pieces in prose and verse, the titles of which may be seen in Winstanley, Ames' _Typog._ and Osborne's _Harl. Catalog._ &c.--He is mentioned with great respect by _Meres_, in his 2d pt. of _Wit's Common-wealth_, 1598, f. 283, and is alluded to in Beaumont and Fletcher's _Scornful Lady_, act ii., and again in _Wit without Money_, act iii.--See Whalley's _Ben Jonson_, vol. iii. p. 103.

The present Edition is improved by a copy in _England's Helicon_, edit. 1614, 8vo.

This little Pastoral is one of the Songs in "The Honourable Entertainment gieven to the Queenes Majestie in Progresse at Elvetham in Hampshire, by the R. H. the Earle of Hertford, 1591, 4to." (Printed by Wolfe. No name of author.) See in that pamphlet,

"The thirde daies Entertainment.

"On Wednesday morning about 9 o'clock, as her Majestie opened a casement of her gallerie window, ther were 3 excellent musitians, who being disguised in auncient country attire, did greet her with a pleasant song of _Corydon and Phillida_, made in 3 parts of purpose. The song, as well for the worth of the dittie as the aptnesse of the note thereto applied, it pleased her Highnesse after it had been once sung to command it againe, and highly to grace it with her cheerefull acceptance and commendation.

THE PLOWMAN'S SONG.

_In the merrie month of May, &c."_

The splendour and magnificence of Elizabeth's reign is nowhere more strongly painted than in these little diaries of some of her summer excursions to the houses of her nobility; nor could a more acceptable present be given to the world, than a republication of a select number of such details as this of the entertainment at _Elvetham_, that at _Killingworth_, &c., &c., which so strongly mark the spirit of the times, and present us with scenes so very remote from modern manners.

Since the above was written, the public hath been gratified with a most compleat work on the foregoing subject, intitled, _The Progresses and Public Processions of Queen Elizabeth, &c. By John Nichols, F.A.S., Edinb. and Perth_, 1788, 2 vols. 4to.

* * * * *

[The author of this elegant little poem was a most voluminous
author, and "is supposed to be the same Capt. Nicholas Breton,
who was of Norton in Northamptonshire, and dying there June 22,
1624, has a monument in that church."[223] Dr. Rimbault (_Musical_
_Illustrations of Percy's Reliques_) writes as follows of the
music:--"We have here two settings of this beautiful pastoral,
the first as it was sung by the 'three excellent musitians'
before Queen Elizabeth in 1591; the second as it was reset in the
following century. The first is extracted from _Madrigals to 3,
4, and 5 parts, apt for viols and voices_, newly composed by
Michael Este, 1604; the second from _Cheerfull Ayres or Ballads,
set for three voyces_, by Dr. John Wilson, Oxford, 1660. The latter
became extremely popular, and is included in D'Urfey's _Pills to
Purge Melancholy_, 1719, and several other musical miscellanies of
subsequent date."]

* * * * *

In the merrie moneth of Maye,
In a morne by break of daye,
With a troope of damselles playing
Forthe "I yode" forsooth a maying:[224]

When anon by a wood side, 5
Where as Maye was in his pride,
I espied all alone
Phillida and Corydon.

Much adoe there was, god wot;
He wold love, and she wold not. 10
She sayde, never man was trewe;
He sayes, none was false to you.

He sayde, hee had lovde her longe:
She sayes, love should have no wronge.
Corydon wold kisse her then: 15
She sayes, maydes must kisse no men,

Tyll they doe for good and all.
When she made the shepperde call
All the heavens to wytnes truthe,
Never loved a truer youthe. 20

Then with manie a prettie othe,
Yea and nay, and, faith and trothe;
Suche as seelie shepperdes use
When they will not love abuse;

Love, that had bene long deluded, 25
Was with kisses sweete concluded;
And Phillida with garlands gaye
Was made the lady of the Maye.

FOOTNOTES:

[223] [England's _Helicon_ (Brydges' _British Bibliographer_, vol. iii.)]

[224] Ver. 4. the wode, MS.

XI.

LITTLE MUSGRAVE AND LADY BARNARD.

This ballad is ancient, and has been popular; we find it quoted in many old plays. See Beaum. and Fletcher's _Knight of the Burning Pestle_, 4to. 1613, act v. sc. iii. _The Varietie, a comedy_, 12mo. 1649, act iv. &c. In Sir William Davenant's play, _The Witts_, a. iii. a gallant thus boasts of himself:

"Limber and sound! besides I sing Musgrave,
And for Chevy-chace no lark comes near me."

In the Pepys _Collection_, vol. iii. p. 314, is an imitation of this old song, in 33 stanzas, by a more modern pen, with many alterations, but evidently for the worse.

This is given from an old printed copy in the British Museum, with corrections; some of which are from a fragment in the Editor's folio MS. It is also printed in Dryden's _Collection of Miscellaneous_ _Poems_.

* * * * *

[The copy of this ballad in the Folio MS. (ed. Hales and Furnivall,
vol. i. p. 119) is a mutilated fragment consisting of only ten
complete stanzas and three half ones. The oldest entire copy is
to be found in _Wit Restor'd_, 1658, where it is called _the_ old
_ballad of little Musgrave_, which is given by Professor Child
(_English and Scottish Ballads_, vol. ii. p. 15) in preference
to Percy's. This version, not very exactly transcribed, is printed
in Dryden's _Miscellany Poems_ (1716, vol. iii. 312), and Ritson
(_Ancient Songs and Ballads_, vol. ii. p. 116) copied it from
thence. Ritson writes of one of Percy's statements above: "Dr.
Percy indeed, by some mistake, gives it as from an old printed copy
in the British Museum; observing that 'In the Pepys collection is
an imitation of this old song in a different measure, by a more
modern pen, with many alterations, but evidently for the worse.' It
is very true, and not less so that the only copies in the museum
(for there are two) are more recent impressions of this identical
_imitation_."

It is the 14th stanza slightly altered which is quoted in the
_Knight of the Burning Pestle_.

"And some they whistled, and some they sung,
Hey down down!
And some did loudly say
Ever as Lord Barnet's horn blew,
Away Musgrave, away."

There are several Scottish versions, in which the reciters have
altered the locality. Jamieson has printed one which he calls _Lord
Barnaby_ (_Popular Ballads and Songs_, i. 170). He states that
he had heard it repeated both in Morayshire and in the southern
counties.

Motherwell gives the air in his _Minstrelsy_ which he noted down
from oral communication, and this verse--

"It fell upon a Martinmas time
When the nobles were a drinking wine,
That little Mushiegrove to the kirk he did go
For to see the ladies come in."

Mr. J. H. Dixon includes a version entitled _Lord Burnett and_
_Little Munsgrove_ in his Scottish Traditional Versions of Ancient
Ballads (Percy Society, vol. xvii.)

Home adopted the name of Lady Barnard in his _Douglas_ before he
took that of Lady Randolph, see No. 18, Gil Morrice.

There is another ballad called _The Bonny Birdy_, with a similar
story. Jamieson (i. 162) prints it and alters the title to _Lord_
_Randal_.]

* * * * *

As it fell out on a highe holye daye,
As many bee in the yeare,
When yong men and maides together do goe
Their masses and mattins to heare,

Little Musgràve came to the church door, 5
The priest was at the mass;
But he had more mind of the fine womèn,
Then he had of our Ladyes grace.

And some of them were clad in greene,
And others were clad in pall; 10
And then came in my lord Barnardes wife,
The fairest among them all.

Shee cast an eye on little Musgràve
As bright as the summer sunne:
O then bethought him little Musgràve, 15
This ladyes heart I have wonne.

Quoth she, I have loved thee, little Musgràve,
Fulle long and manye a daye.
So have I loved you, ladye faire,
Yet word I never durst saye. 20

I have a bower at Bucklesford-Bury,[225]
Full daintilye bedight,
If thoult wend thither, my little Musgràve,
Thoust lig in mine armes all night.

Quoth hee, I thanke yee, ladye faire, 25
This kindness yee shew to mee;
And whether it be to my weale or woe,
This night will I lig with thee.

All this beheard a litle foot-page,
By his ladyes coach as he ranne: 30
Quoth he, thoughe I am my ladyes page,
Yet Ime my lord Barnardes manne.

My lord Barnàrd shall knowe of this,
Although I lose a limbe.
And ever whereas the bridges were broke, 35
He layd him downe to swimme.

Asleep or awake, thou lord Barnàrd,
As thou art a man of life,
Lo! this same night at Bucklesford-Bury
Litle Musgrave's in bed with thy wife. 40

If it be trew, thou litle foote-page,
This tale thou hast told to mee,
Then all my lands in Bucklesford-Bury
I freelye will give to thee.

But and it be a lye, thou litle foot-page, 45
This tale thou hast told to mee,
On the highest tree in Bucklesford-Bury
All hanged shalt thou bee.

Rise up, rise up, my merry men all,
And saddle me my good steede; 50
This night must I to Bucklesford-bury;
God wott, I had never more neede.

Then some they whistled, and some they sang,
And some did loudlye saye,
Whenever lord Barnardes horne it blewe, 55
Awaye, Musgràve, away.

Methinkes I heare the throstle cocke,
Methinkes I heare the jay,
Methinkes I heare lord Barnards home;
I would I were awaye. 60

Lye still, lye still, thou little Musgràve,
And huggle me from the cold;
For it is but some shephardes boye
A whistling his sheepe to the fold.[226]

Is not thy hawke upon the pearche, 65
Thy horse eating corne and haye?
And thou a gay lady within thine armes:
And wouldst thou be awaye?

By this lord Barnard was come to the dore,
And lighted upon a stone: 70
And he pulled out three silver keyes,
And opened the dores eche one.

He lifted up the coverlett,
He lifted up the sheete;
How now, how now, thou little Musgràve, 75
Dost find my gaye ladye sweete?

I find her sweete, quoth little Musgràve,
The more is my griefe and paine;
Ide gladlye give three hundred poundes
That I were on yonder plaine. 80

Arise, arise, thou little Musgràve,
And put thy cloathes nowe on,
It shall never be said in my countree,
That I killed a naked man.

I have two swordes in one scabbàrde, 85
Full deare they cost my purse;
And thou shalt have the best of them,
And I will have the worse.

The first stroke that little Musgrave strucke,
He hurt lord Barnard sore; 90
The next stroke that lord Barnard strucke,
Little Musgrave never strucke more.

With that bespake the ladye faire,
In bed whereas she laye,
Althoughe thou art dead, my little Musgràve, 95
Yet for thee I will praye:

And wishe well to thy soule will I,
So long as I have life;
So will I not do for thee, Barnàrd,
Thoughe I am thy wedded wife. 100

He cut her pappes from off her brest;
Great pitye it was to see
The drops of this fair ladyes bloode
Run trickling downe her knee.

Wo worth, wo worth ye, my merrye men all, 105
You never were borne for my goode:
Why did you not offer to stay my hande,
When you sawe me wax so woode?[227]

For I have slaine the fairest sir knighte,
That ever rode on a steede; 110
So have I done the fairest lady,
That ever ware womans weede.[228]

A grave, a grave, Lord Barnard cryde,
To putt these lovers in;
But lay my ladye o' the upper hande, 115
For she comes o' the better kin.

* * * * *

[+±+] That the more modern copy is to be dated about the middle of
the last century, will be readily conceived from the tenor of the
concluding stanza, viz.

"This sad Mischief by Lust was wrought;
Then let us call for Grace,
That we may shun the wicked vice,
And fly from Sin a-pace."

FOOTNOTES:

[225] Bucklefield-berry, fol. MS.

[226] Ver. 64. Is whistling sheepe ore the mold, fol. MS.

[227] [wildly angry.]

[228] [See the last stanza of _Childe Maurice_ from Folio MS., book i. No. 18, which is almost identical with this.]

XII.

THE EW-BUGHTS, MARION.

A SCOTTISH SONG.

This sonnet appears to be ancient: that and its simplicity of sentiment have recommended it to a place here.

* * * * *

[This is marked in Ramsay's _Tea Table Miscellany_ as an old song
with additions. It is not known who wrote the song or who composed
the air belonging to it. They are both old.]

* * * * *

Will ye gae to the ew-bughts,[229] Marion,
And wear in[230] the sheip wi' mee?
The sun shines sweit, my Marion,
But nae half sae sweit as thee.
O Marion's a bonnie lass; 5
And the blyth blinks[231] in her ee:
And fain wad I marrie Marion,
Gin Marion wad marrie mee.

Theire's gowd in your garters, Marion;
And siller on your white hauss-bane[232]: 10
Fou faine wad I kisse my Marion
At eene quhan I cum hame.
Theire's braw lads in Earnslaw, Marion,
Quha gape and glowr wi' their ee
At kirk, quhan they see my Marion; 15
Bot nane of them lues[233] like mee.

Ive nine milk-ews, my Marion,
A cow and a brawney quay;[234]
Ise gie tham au to my Marion,
Just on her bridal day. 20
And yees get a grein sey[235] apron,
And waistcote o' London broun;
And wow bot ye will be vaporing
Quhaneir ye gang to the toun.

Ime yong and stout, my Marion, 25
None dance lik mee on the greine;
And gin ye forsak me, Marion,
Ise een gae draw up wi' Jeane.
Sae put on your pearlins,[236] Marion,
And kirtle oth' cramasie;[237] 30
And sune as my chin has nae haire on,
I sall cum west, and see yee.

FOOTNOTES:

[229] [the pens in which the ewes are milked.]

[230] [gather in.]

[231] [joy sparkles.]

[232] _Hauss bane, i.e._ The neck-bone. Marion had probably a silver locket on, tied close to her neck with a ribband, an usual ornament in Scotland; where a sore throat is called "_a sair hause_," properly _halse_.

[233] [loves.]

[234] [young heifer.]

[235] [woollen cloth.]

[236] [a kind of lace made of thread or silk.]

[237] [crimson.]

XIII.

THE KNIGHT, AND SHEPHERD'S DAUGHTER.

This ballad (given from an old black-letter copy, with some corrections) was popular in the time of Q. Elizabeth, being usually printed with her picture before it, as Hearne informs us in his preface to _Gul. Neubrig. Hist. Oxon._ 1719, 8vo. vol. i. p. lxx. It is quoted in Fletcher's comedy of the _Pilgrim_, act iv. sc. 2.

* * * * *

[It is also quoted in _The Knight of the Burning Pestle_:

"He set her on a milk white steed." (l. 85.)

There are several Scottish versions given by Buchan, Kinloch,
and Motherwell. The latter claims greater antiquity for his over
Percy's. It appears, however, to be a southern ballad adapted
by the Scotch and improved in its humour. The heroine practices
various artifices to maintain the character of a "beggar's brat"
when riding back with _Earl Richard_.]

* * * * *

There was a shepherd's daughter
Came tripping on the waye;
And there by chance a knighte shee mett,
Which caused her to staye.

Good morrowe to you, beauteous maide, 5
These words pronounced hee:
O I shall dye this daye, he sayd,
If Ive not my wille of thee.

The Lord forbid, the maide replyde,
That you shold waxe so wode! 10
"But for all that shee could do or saye,
He wold not be withstood."

Sith you have had your wille of mee,
And put me to open shame,
Now, if you are a courteous knighte, 15
Tell me what is your name?

Some do call mee Jacke, sweet heart,
And some do call mee Jille;[238]
But when I come to the kings faire courte
They call me Wilfulle Wille. 20

He sett his foot into the stirrup,
And awaye then he did ride;
She tuckt her girdle about her middle,
And ranne close by his side.

But when she came to the brode watèr, 25
She sett her brest and swamme;
And when she was got out againe,
She tooke to her heels and ranne.

He never was the courteous knighte,
To saye, faire maide, will ye ride? 30
"And she was ever too loving a maide"
To saye, sir knighte abide.

When she came to the kings faire courte,
She knocked at the ring;
So readye was the king himself 35
To let this faire maide in.

Now Christ you save, my gracious liege,
Now Christ you save and see,
You have a knighte within your courte
This daye hath robbed mee. 40

What hath he robbed thee of, sweet heart?
Of purple or of pall?
Or hath he took thy gaye gold ring
From off thy finger small?

He hath not robbed mee, my leige, 45
Of purple nor of pall:
But he hath gotten my maiden head,
Which grieves mee worst of all.

Now if he be a batchelor,
His bodye Ile give to thee;[239] 50
But if he be a married man,
High hanged he shall bee.

He called downe his merrye men all,
By one, by two, by three;
Sir William used to bee the first, 55
But nowe the last came hee.

He brought her downe full fortye pounde,
Tyed up withinne a glove:
Faire maid, Ile give the same to thee;
Go, seeke thee another love. 60

O Ile have none of your gold, she sayde,
Nor Ile have none of your fee;
But your faire bodye I must have,
The king hath granted mee.

Sir William ranne and fetchd her then 65
Five hundred pound in golde,
Saying, faire maide, take this to thee,
Thy fault will never be tolde.

Tis not the gold that shall mee tempt,
These words then answered shee, 70
But your own bodye I must have,
The king hath granted mee.

Would I had dranke the water cleare,
When I did drinke the wine,
Rather than any shepherds brat 75
Shold bee a ladye of mine!

Would I had drank the puddle foule,
When I did drink the ale,
Rather than ever a shepherds brat
Shold tell me such a tale! 80

A shepherds brat even as I was,
You mote have let me bee,
I never had come othe kings faire courte,
To crave any love of thee.

He sett her on a milk-white steede, 85
And himself upon a graye;
He hung a bugle about his necke,
And soe they rode awaye.

But when they came unto the place,
Where marriage-rites were done, 90
She proved herself a dukes daughtèr,
And he but a squires sonne.

Now marrye me, or not, sir knight.
Your pleasure shall be free:
If you make me ladye of one good towne, 95
Ile make you lord of three.

Ah! cursed bee the gold, he sayd.
If thou hadst not been trewe.
I shold have forsaken my sweet love,
And have changed her for a newe. 100

And now their hearts being linked fast,
They joyned hand in hande:
Thus he had both purse, and person too,
And all at his commande.

*

FOOTNOTES:

[238] [Jill is sometimes used as a woman's name and at other times as a man's.]

[239] [Ver. 50. _His bodye Ile give to thee._] This was agreeable to the feudal customs: The Lord had a right to give a wife to his vassals. See Shakespeare's _All's well that ends well_.

XIV.

THE SHEPHERD'S ADDRESS TO HIS MUSE.

This poem, originally printed from the small MS. volume, mentioned above in No. X., has been improved by a more perfect copy in _England's Helicon_, where the author is discovered to be _N. Breton_.

* * * * *

Good Muse, rocke me aslepe
With some sweete harmony:
This wearie eyes is not to kepe
Thy wary company.

Sweete Love, begon a while,
Thou seest my heavines: 5
Beautie is borne but to beguyle
My harte of happines.

See howe my little flocke,
That lovde to feede on highe, 10
Doe headlonge tumble downe the rocke,
And in the valley dye.

The bushes and the trees,
That were so freshe and greene,
Doe all their deintie colors leese, 15
And not a leafe is seene.

The blacke birde and the thrushe,
That made the woodes to ringe,
With all the rest, are now at hushe,
And not a note they singe. 20

Swete Philomele, the birde
That hath the heavenly throte,
Doth nowe, alas! not once afforde
Recordinge of a note.

The flowers have had a frost, 25
The herbs have loste their savoure;
And Phillida the faire hath lost
"For me her wonted" favour.

Thus all these careful sights,
So kill me in conceit; 30
That now to hope upon delights,
It is but meere deceite.

And therefore, my sweete Muse,
That knowest what helpe is best,
Doe nowe thy heavenlie conninge use 35
To sett my harte at rest:

And in a dreame bewraie
What fate shal be my frende;
Whether my life shall still decaye,
Or when my sorrowes ende. 40

XV.

LORD THOMAS AND FAIR ELLINOR

Is given (with corrections) from an ancient copy in black letter, in the Pepys collection, intitled, _A tragical ballad on the unfortunate love of lord Thomas and fair Ellinor, together with the downfall of the browne girl_.--In the same collection may be seen an attempt to modernize this old song, and reduce it to a different measure: A proof of its popularity.

The reader will find a Scottish song on a similar subject to this, towards the end of this volume, intitled, _Lord Thomas and Lady Annet_.

* * * * *

[This is one of the ballads still kept in print in Seven Dials, and
Ritson describes it as having "every appearance of being originally
a minstrel song."

There is a series of ballads on the same subject--

1. _Lord Thomas and Fair Annet_, (see book iii. No. 4.)

2. _Fair Margaret and Sweet William_, (see book ii. No. 4.)

3. _Sweet Willie and Fair Annie_, (Jamieson's _Popular Ballads_, l.
22.)

The last named ballad is a combination of the first two, the first
part being similar to _Lord Thomas_, and the second part to _Fair_
_Margaret_.]

* * * * *

Lord Thomas he was a bold forrestèr,
And a chaser of the kings deere;
Faire Ellinor was a fine womàn,
And lord Thomas he loved her deare.

Come riddle my riddle, dear mother, he sayd, 5
And riddle us both as one;
Whether I shall marrye with faire Ellinòr,
And let the browne girl alone?

The browne girl she has got houses and lands,
Faire Ellinor she has got none, 10
And therefore I charge thee on my blessìng,
To bring me the browne girl home.

And as it befelle on a high holidaye,
As many there are beside,
Lord Thomas he went to faire Ellinòr, 15
That should have been his bride.

And when he came to faire Ellinors bower,
He knocked there at the ring,
And who was so readye as faire Ellinòr,
To lett lord Thomas withinn. 20

What newes, what newes, lord Thomas, she sayd?
What newes dost thou bring to mee?
I am come to bid thee to my weddìng,
And that is bad newes for thee.

O God forbid, lord Thomas, she sayd, 25
That such a thing should be done;
I thought to have been the bride my selfe,
And thou to have been the bridegrome.

Come riddle my riddle, dear mother, she sayd,[240]
And riddle it all in one; 30
Whether I shall goe to lord Thomas his wedding,
Or whether shall tarry at home?

There are manye that are your friendes, daughtèr,
And manye a one your foe,
Therefore I charge you on my blessing, 35
To lord Thomas his wedding don't goe.

There are manye that are my friendes, mothèr;
But were every one my foe,
Betide me life, betide me death,
To lord Thomas his wedding I'ld goe. 40

She cloathed herself in gallant attire,
And her merrye men all in greene;
And as they rid through every towne,
They took her to be some queene.

But when she came to lord Thomas his gate, 45
She knocked there at the ring;
And who was so readye as lord Thomàs,
To lett faire Ellinor in.

Is this your bride, fair Ellinor sayd?
Methinks she looks wonderous browne; 50
Thou mightest have had as faire a womàn,
As ever trod on the grounde.

Despise her not, fair Ellin, he sayd,
Despise her not unto mee;
For better I love thy little fingèr, 55
Than all her whole bodèe.

This browne bride had a little penknife,
That was both long and sharpe,
And betwixt the short ribs and the long,
She prickd faire Ellinor's harte. 60

O Christ thee save, lord Thomas, hee sayd,
Methinks thou lookst wonderous wan;
Thou usedst to look with as fresh a colòur,
As ever the sun shone on.

Oh, art thou blind, lord Thomas? she sayd, 65
Or canst thou not very well see?
Oh! dost thou not see my owne hearts bloode
Run trickling down my knee.

Lord Thomas he had a sword by his side;
As he walked about the halle, 70
He cut off his brides head from her shouldèrs,
And threw it against the walle.

He set the hilte against the grounde,
And the point against his harte.
There never three lovers together did meete, 75
That sooner againe did parte.

FOOTNOTES:

[240] Ver. 29. It should probably be, _Read me, read, &c., i.e._ Advise me, advise.

XVI.

CUPID AND CAMPASPE.

This elegant little sonnet is found in the third act of an old play intitled _Alexander and Campaspe_, written by John Lilye, a celebrated writer in the time of queen Elizabeth. That play was first printed in 1591; but this copy is given from a later edition.

* * * * *

[These pretty epigrammatic verses occur in act iii. sc. 5. of
Lilly's play as a song by Apelles. The first edition of _Campaspe_
was printed in 1584, and that of 1591, mentioned above, is the
second edition. This song, however, was omitted in all the editions
printed before that of E. Blount (_Six Court Comedies, 1632._)]

* * * * *

Cupid and my Campaspe playd
At cardes for kisses; Cupid payd:
He stakes his quiver, bow and arrows,
His mothers doves, and teame of sparrows;
Loses them too; then down he throws 5
The coral of his lippe, the rose
Growing on's cheek (but none knows how)
With these, the crystal of his browe,
And then the dimple of his chinne;
All these did my Campaspe winne. 10

At last he set her both his eyes,
She won, and Cupid blind did rise.
O Love! has she done this to thee?
What shall, alas! become of mee?

XVII.

THE LADY TURNED SERVING-MAN

Is given from a written copy, containing some improvements (perhaps modern ones), upon the popular ballad, intitled, _The famous flower of Serving-men_: or the _Lady turned Serving-man_.

* * * * *

[It is printed in the _Collection of Old Ballads_ (i. 216) without
the _improvements_. After verse 56 the first person is changed
to the third in the original, but Percy altered this and made
the first person run on throughout. Kinloch (_Ancient Scottish
Ballads_, p. 95) gives a very mutilated and varied version of this
ballad in the Scottish dress under the title of _Sweet Willie_,
which was taken down from the recitation of an old woman in Lanark.
There is a similar story in Swedish and Danish.]

* * * * *

You beauteous ladyes, great and small,
I write unto you one and all,
Whereby that you may understand
What I have suffered in the land.

I was by birth a lady faire, 5
An ancient barons only heire,
And when my good old father dyed,
Then I became a young knightes bride.

And there my love built me a bower,
Bedeck'd with many a fragrant flower; 10
A braver bower you ne'er did see
Then my true-love did build for mee.

And there I livde a ladye gay,
Till fortune wrought our loves decay;
For there came foes so fierce a band, 15
That soon they over-run the land.

They came upon us in the night,
And brent my bower, and slew my knight;
And trembling hid in mans array,
I scant with life escap'd away. 20

In the midst of this extremitìe,
My servants all did from me flee:
Thus was I left myself alone,
With heart more cold than any stone.

Yet though my heart was full of care, 25
Heaven would not suffer me to dispaire,
Wherefore in haste I chang'd my name
From faire Elise, to sweet Williame:

And therewithall I cut my haire,
Resolv'd my man's attire to weare; 30
And in my beaver, hose and band,
I travell'd far through many a land.

At length all wearied with my toil,
I sate me downe to rest awhile;
My heart it was so fill'd with woe, 35
That downe my cheeke the teares did flow.

It chanc'd the king of that same place
With all his lords a hunting was,
And seeing me weepe, upon the same
Askt who I was, and whence I came. 40

Then to his grace I did replye,
I am a poore and friendlesse boye,
Though nobly borne, nowe forc'd to bee
A serving-man of lowe degree.

Stand up, faire youth, the king reply'd, 45
For thee a service I'll provyde:
But tell me first what thou canst do;
Thou shalt be fitted thereunto.

Wilt thou be usher of my hall,
To wait upon my nobles all? 50
Or wilt be taster of my wine,
To 'tend on me when I shall dine?

Or wilt thou be my chamberlaine,
About my person to remaine?
Or wilt thou be one of my guard, 55
And I will give thee great reward?

Chuse, gentle youth, said he, thy place.
Then I reply'd, If it please your grace
To shew such favour unto mee,
Your chamberlaine I faine would bee. 60

The king then smiling gave consent,
And straitwaye to his court I went;
Where I behavde so faithfullìe,
That hee great favour showd to mee.