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Read Ebook: Signelil A Tale from the Cornish and Other Ballads by Borrow George Wise Thomas James Editor
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Ebook has 75 lines and 6222 words, and 2 pages
Editor: Thomas J. Wise
SIGNELIL A TALE FROM THE CORNISH AND OTHER BALLADS
BY GEORGE BORROW
LONDON: PRINTED FOR PRIVATE CIRCULATION 1913
SIGNELIL
"Erewhile was thy cheek as the blooming rose red, But now thou art pale, even pale as the dead."
"To conceal the truth longer 'tis vain to essay, My gallant young master has led me astray."
"And if the young noble has led thee astray, Say, what gave he thee for thy virtue in pay?"
"He gave to me shoes were gold spangled all o'er, And them have I worn with affliction so sore.
"He gave to me also of silk a soft shift, And with sorrow most painful I've worn the fair gift.
"He gave me, Christ sain him! a gold ring so fine, Whose match I can see on no finger of thine."
"But what will avail thee his presents of price, If he thee will not wed before God and men's eyes?"
"O, he to espouse me so often has vowed, And rich presents beside upon me has bestowed."
"What will his vows help thee in secrecy spoke? To many a maid them he has made and has broke."
"O, I on the gold harp will play me a tune, And the knight to his presence will summon me soon."
With her fingers so tapering she struck the first chord, That heard, as he dozed in his bed, the young lord.
The gallant young lord to his waiting-boy said: "Go straight, and call hither my mother's fair maid."
The bedside he stroked with so gentle an air: "Dear heart, sit thee down, for thy weight it will bear."
"O no, by the Saints, I will never do that, For there, noble Sir, I have ne'er before sat."
"Though thou ne'er hast placed thee upon my bedside, Thou hast slept in my arms embraced many a tide.
"My spouse thou shalt be, yea, my heart's beloved spouse, And I in thine arms every night will repose."
A TALE FROM THE CORNISH
In Lavan's parish once of yore, Dwelt on the spot called Tshei an Hor, A loving couple, man and wife, But poverty distressed their life. And thus the man his wife address'd: "I'll wander forth of work in quest; And you, my dearest, you can earn Your living here till I return."
His home he leaves, and, far from gay, Towards the East he took his way. At length a farmer's dwelling reaching, He enter'd it, for work beseeching. "What work canst do?" the farmer cried; "All kinds of work, Sir," John replied. Then straight they for a year agree, Three pounds the wages were to be.
Now John would serve no longer there, Home to his wife he would repair. "Go not to-day," the farmer spake, "To-morrow's my wife's day to bake; She shall for you prepare a cake Home to your faithful wife to take."
The nine pounds in the loaf they hid, And when John them adieu had bid, The farmer cried: "I pray thee carry This present home unto your deary; And as ye two there merry make, Then, and not till then, part the cake."
John turned him homeward from the door; And when he reach'd St. Eler's Moor, He met three Tre-ryn merchants there Returning home from Exeter. "We're glad to see thee, John," they cried, "Where hast thou been this long, long tide?" Says John: "I'm just from service come, And to my wife am journeying home." "O travel with us," cried all three, "And very welcome shalt thou be."
Before them two roads they behold; They took the new, John kept the old. And as they passed by Keou Tshoy Un, When they had just lost sight of John, Thieves set upon them furiously, Whereat they raised a doleful cry, Which reaching John's ears on his rout, "Murder!" and "Thieves!" he bellowed out.
His clamour scared the robber train, Who from the merchants sped amain. And when they came to Market Jew They to their joy met John anew, And cried: "What thanks we owe thee, John! We had for certain, every one, Been ruined people, but for thee, Come with us, thou'lt most welcome be."
And when they reached the hostelrie At which it was their wont to lie, Quoth John: "The master I must view." "The master! what with him wouldst do?" They answered, "we've a mistress here, And young enough she is, and fair; To see the host, if you're inclined, Him in the kitchen you will find."
Into the kitchen John he goes, And sees the master of the house, An ancient man who turned the spit. "O, ho!" said John, "this house I quit; No sleeping place of it I'll make, But in the next will quarters take." "Do not go yet," they cried all three, "Stay, sup with us, thou'lt welcome be."
And now, with grief and shame, I say That with a friar of orders grey The mistress had contrived a plan To murder the poor ancient man, When sleep had bound the merchants fast, And on their heads the crime to cast.
John in the next house that same night Saw through a hole i' the wall a light. So getting up and gently walking, He heard the friar and woman talking. The friar said: "Against yon hole My back I'll set, for fear some soul From the next house our deeds should spy."
The hostess then most cruelly, With a silk handkerchief she bore, Murdered her ancient husband poor, Strangled him did the accursed slut. But meanwhile through the hole John cut A round piece from the friar's gown, And then in bed again lay down.
At morn ran out the hostess crying That murdered was her husband lying; And since nor man nor child had been, Except the merchants, in the inn, They should be hanged withouten fail; They thereupon were led to jail. John quickly them a visit paid. "O, John! we've evil luck," they said; "Last night the host was choked in bed, And upon us the crime is laid."
"Dear gentlemen," was John's reply, "Beseech the Justice instantly To cause them who the murder wrought Into his presence to be brought."
"But who knows who the deed has done?" They faltered forth; then answered John: "If I can't prove who did it, I Will hang for it most willingly."
"Speak out," they cried. Said John: "Last night, Being in bed, I saw a light; I rose, as if I'd had a call-- There was a hole in the house wall, 'Gainst which his back a certain friar Placed, thereby blinding it entire, Lest, as he said, some curious eye From the next house their deeds should spy. I cut, meanwhile, to him unknown, A large round piece from off his gown. To prove that what I've said is true I've in my pouch the piece to shew." The merchants then were soon set free; The murderers died on gallows tree.
All three depart from Market Jew, Together with their comrade true, Far as Kuz carn na Huila went, And thence their ways lay different. Now though the merchants earnest were That John should with them home repair, He steadfastly refused their plea, Longing his wife and home to see.
When of the merchants he lost sight He lounged away his time till night. He'd fain know whether, while he roved Abroad, his consort faithful proved.
"In name of God, who's there?" she cried; "'Tis I am here, wife," John replied. "If John thou art, pray enter free." "First bring the light here," answered he. 'Twas brought, he stepped the threshold o'er. Quoth he: "On coming to the door I heard a man's voice in the bed." "Ah, Johnny, when away you sped In distant parts for work to roam, I then with child was three months gone; In bed there lies a comely boy, Unto us both he'll be a joy."
Said John, "I've something to disclose. My master, when I left his house, Gave me this cake I have in hand, And with it gave the strict command When I with thee should merry make Then and not till then it to break. I'll now accomplish what he bade, Mayhap we've wherefor to be glad."
They broke the cake in anxious haste, The nine pounds in it, lo! were placed. They took the money, ate the bread, And I for truth have heard it said No quarrel e'er or noisy word 'Twixt them from that time forth occurr'd.
Now, Gentles all, my tale is done, I hope it has your favour won!
SIR VERNER AND DAME INGEBORG
The swains they drank deep and they made themselves gay, And so did Sir Verner in prison that lay.
Dame Ingeborg woke, and she lifts up her eyes: "O, which of my maidens doth sing in that guise?"
"O, none of your maidens can sing in such guise, 'Tis Sir Verner who's singing, in durance he lies."
Dame Ingeborg straightway two servants addressed: "To come to my presence Sir Verner request."
In through the portal Sir Verner he strode, And up to receive him Dame Ingeborg stood.
To the cushion Dame Ingeborg points with a smile: "Go thither, Sir Verner, and rest thee awhile.
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