Read Ebook: A Book of Old Ballads — Volume 3 by Nichols Beverley Editor

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Ebook has 418 lines and 19170 words, and 9 pages

LIST OF COLOUR PLATES

CLERK COLVILL GIL MORRICE CHILD WATERS THE EARL OF MAR'S DAUGHTER

CLERK COLVILL

Clerk Colvill and his lusty dame Were walking in the garden green; The belt around her stately waist Cost Clerk Colvill of pounds fifteen.

"O promise me now, Clerk Colvill, Or it will cost ye muckle strife, Ride never by the wells of Slane, If ye wad live and brook your life."

"Now speak nae mair, my lusty dame, Now speak nae mair of that to me; Did I neer see a fair woman, But I wad sin with her body?"

He's taen leave o his gay lady, Nought minding what his lady said, And he's rode by the wells of Slane, Where washing was a bonny maid.

"Wash on, wash on, my bonny maid, That wash sae clean your sark of silk;" "And weel fa you, fair gentleman, Your body whiter than the milk."

Then loud, loud cry'd the Clerk Colvill, "O my head it pains me sair;" "Then take, then take," the maiden said, "And frae my sark you'll cut a gare."

Then she's gied him a little bane-knife, And frae her sark he cut a share; She's ty'd it round his whey-white face, But ay his head it aked mair.

Then louder cry'd the Clerk Colville, "O sairer, sairer akes my head;" "And sairer, sairer ever will," The maiden crys, "till you be dead."

Out then he drew his shining blade, Thinking to stick her where she stood, But she was vanished to a fish, And swam far off, a fair mermaid.

"O mother, mother, braid my hair; My lusty lady, make my bed; O brother, take my sword and spear, For I have seen the false mermaid."

SIR ALDINGAR

Our king he kept a false stew?rde, Sir Aldingar they him call; A falser steward than he was one, Servde not in bower nor hall.

He wolde have layne by our comelye queene, Her deere worshippe to betraye: Our queene she was a good wom?n, And evermore said him naye.

Sir Aldingar was wrothe in his mind, With her hee was never content, Till traiterous meanes he colde devyse, In a fyer to have her brent.

There came a lazar to the kings gate, A lazar both blinde and lame: He tooke the lazar upon his backe, Him on the queenes bed has layne.

"Lye still, lazar, whereas thou lyest, Looke thou goe not hence away; He make thee a whole man and a sound In two howers of the day."

Then went him forth Sir Aldingar, And hyed him to our king: "If I might have grace, as I have space, Sad tydings I could bring."

Say on, say on, Sir Aldingar, Saye on the soothe to mee. "Our queene hath chosen a new new love, And shee will have none of thee.

"If shee had chosen a right good knight, The lesse had beene her shame; But she hath chose her a lazar man, A lazar both blinde and lame."

If this be true, thou Aldingar, The tyding thou tellest to me, Then will I make thee a rich rich knight, Rich both of golde and fee.

But if it be false, Sir Aldingar, As God nowe grant it bee! Thy body, I sweare by the holye rood, Shall hang on the gallows tree.

He brought our king to the queenes chamb?r, And opend to him the dore. A lodlye love, King Harry says, For our queene dame Elinore!

If thou were a man, as thou art none, Here on my sword thoust dye; But a payre of new gallowes shall be built, And there shalt thou hang on hye.

Forth then hyed our king, I wysse, And an angry man was hee; And soone he found Queen Elinore, That bride so bright of blee.

Now God you save, our queene, madame, And Christ you save and see; Heere you have chosen a newe newe love, And you will have none of mee.

If you had chosen a right good knight, The lesse had been your shame; But you have chose you a lazar man, A lazar both blinde and lame.

Therfore a fyer there shalt be built, And brent all shalt thou bee.-- Now out alacke! said our comly queene, Sir Aldingar's false to mee.

Now out alacke! sayd our comlye queene, My heart with griefe will brast. I had thought swevens had never been true; I have proved them true at last.

I dreamt in my sweven on Thursday eve, In my bed whereas I laye. I dreamt a grype and a grimlie beast Had carryed my crowne awaye;

My gorgett and my kirtle of golde, And all my faire head-geere: And he wold worrye me with his tush And to his nest y-beare:

Saving there came a little 'gray' hawke, A merlin him they call, Which untill the grounde did strike the grype, That dead he downe did fall.

Giffe I were a man, as now I am none, A battell wold I prove, To fight with that traitor Aldingar, Att him I cast my glove.

But seeing Ime able noe battell to make, My liege, grant me a knight To fight with that traitor Sir Aldingar, To maintaine me in my right.

"Now forty dayes I will give thee To seeke thee a knight therein: If thou find not a knight in forty dayes Thy bodye it must brenn."

Now twenty dayes were spent and gone, Noe helpe there might be had; Many a teare shed our comelye queene And aye her hart was sad.

Then came one of the queenes dams?lles, And knelt upon her knee, "Cheare up, cheare up, my gracious dame, I trust yet helpe may be:

And here I will make mine avowe, And with the same me binde; That never will I return to thee, Till I some helpe may finde."

Then forth she rode on a faire palfr?ye Oer hill and dale about: But never a champion colde she finde, Wolde fighte with that knight so stout.

And nowe the daye drewe on a pace, When our good queene must dye; All woe-begone was that faire dams?lle, When she found no helpe was nye.

All woe-begone was that faire dams?lle, And the salt teares fell from her eye: When lo! as she rode by a rivers side, She met with a tinye boye.

A tinye boye she mette, God wot, All clad in mantle of golde; He seemed noe more in mans liken?sse, Then a childe of four yeere old.

Why grieve you, damselle faire, he sayd, And what doth cause you moane? The damsell scant wolde deigne a looke, But fast she pricked on.

Yet turne againe, thou faire dams?lle And greete thy queene from mee: When bale is att hyest, boote is nyest, Nowe helpe enoughe may bee.

Bid her remember what she dreamt In her bedd, wheras shee laye; How when the grype and grimly beast Wolde have carried her crowne awaye,

Even then there came the little gray hawke, And saved her from his clawes: Then bidd the queene be merry at hart, For heaven will fende her cause.

Back then rode that faire dams?lle, And her hart it lept for glee: And when she told her gracious dame A gladd woman then was shee:

But when the appointed day was come, No helpe appeared nye: Then woeful, woeful was her hart, And the teares stood in her eye.

And nowe a fyer was built of wood; And a stake was made of tree; And now Queene Elinor forth was led, A sorrowful sight to see.

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