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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
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.
Three times the herault he waved his hand, And three times spake on hye: Giff any good knight will fende this dame, Come forth, or shee must dye.
No knight stood forth, no knight there came, No helpe appeared nye: And now the fyer was lighted up, Queen Elinor she must dye.
And now the fyer was lighted up, As hot as hot might bee; When riding upon a little white steed, The tinye boy they see.
"Away with that stake, away with those brands, And loose our comelye queene: I am come to fight with Sir Aldingar, And prove him a traitor keene."
Forthe then stood Sir Aldingar, But when he saw the chylde, He laughed, and scoffed, and turned his backe, And weened he had been beguylde.
"Now turne, now turne thee, Aldingar, And eyther fighte or flee; I trust that I shall avenge the wronge, Thoughe I am so small to see."
The boy pulld forth a well good sworde So gilt it dazzled the ee; The first stroke stricken at Aldingar, Smote off his leggs by the knee.
"Stand up, stand up, thou false trait?r, And fight upon thy feete, For and thou thrive, as thou begin'st, Of height wee shall be meete."
A priest, a priest, sayes Alding?r, While I am a man alive. A priest, a priest, sayes Alding?r, Me for to houzle and shrive.
I wolde have laine by our comlie queene, Bot shee wolde never consent; Then I thought to betraye her unto our kinge In a fyer to have her brent.
There came a lazar to the kings gates, A lazar both blind and lame: I tooke the lazar upon my backe, And on her bedd had him layne.
Then ranne I to our comlye king, These tidings sore to tell. But ever alacke! sayes Aldingar, Falsing never doth well.
Forgive, forgive me, queene, madame, The short time I must live. "Nowe Christ forgive thee, Aldingar, As freely I forgive."
Here take thy queene, our king Harry?, And love her as thy life, For never had a king in Christentye. A truer and fairer wife.
King Henrye ran to claspe his queene, And loosed her full sone: Then turned to look for the tinye boye; --The boye was vanisht and gone.
But first he had touched the lazar man, And stroakt him with his hand: The lazar under the gallowes tree All whole and sounde did stand.
The lazar under the gallowes tree Was comelye, straight and tall; King Henrye made him his head stew?rde To wayte withinn his hall.
EDOM O' GORDON
It fell about the Martinmas, Quhen the wind blew shril and cauld, Said Edom o' Gordon to his men, We maun draw till a hauld.
And quhat a hauld sall we draw till, My mirry men and me? We wul gae to the house o' the Rodes, To see that fair ladie.
The lady stude on her castle wa', Beheld baith dale and down: There she was ware of a host of men Cum ryding towards the toun.
O see ze nat, my mirry men a'? O see za nat quhat I see? Methinks I see a host of men: I marveil quha they be.
She weend it had been hir luvely lord, As he cam ryding hame; It was the traitor Edom o' Gordon, Quha reckt nae sin nor shame.
She had nae sooner buskit hirsel, And putten on hir goun, But Edom o' Gordon and his men Were round about the toun.
They had nae sooner supper sett, Nae sooner said the grace, But Edom o' Gordon and his men Were light about the place.
The lady ran up to hir towir head, Sa fast as she could hie, To see if by hir fair speech?s She could wi' him agree.
But quhan he see this lady saif, And hir yates all locked fast, He fell into a rage of wrath, And his look was all aghast.
Cum doun to me, ze lady gay, Cum doun, cum doun to me: This night sall ye lig within mine armes, To-morrow my bride sall be.
I winnae cum doun ze fals Gord?n, I winnae cum doun to thee; I winna forsake my ain dear lord, That is sae far frae me.
Give owre zour house, ze lady fair, Give owre zour house to me, Or I sall brenn yoursel therein, Bot and zour babies three.
I winnae give owre, ze false Gord?n, To nae sik traitor as zee; And if ze brenn my ain dear babes, My lord sall make ze drie.
But reach my pistoll, Glaud my man, And charge ze weil my gun: For, but an I pierce that bluidy butcher, My babes we been undone.
She stude upon hir castle wa', And let twa bullets flee: She mist that bluidy butchers hart, And only raz'd his knee.
Set fire to the house, quo' fals Gord?n, All wood wi' dule and ire: Fals lady, ze sall rue this deid, As ze bren in the fire.
Wae worth, wae worth ze, Jock my man, I paid ze weil zour fee; Quhy pu' ze out the ground-wa' stane, Lets in the reek to me?
And ein wae worth ze, Jock my man, I paid ze weil zour hire; Quhy pu' ze out the ground-wa' stane, To me lets in the fire?
Ze paid me weil my hire, lady; Ze paid me weil my fee: But now I'm Edom o' Gordons man, Maun either doe or die.
O than bespaik hir little son, Sate on the nurses knee: Sayes, Mither deare, gi' owre this house, For the reek it smithers me.
I wad gie a' my gowd, my childe, Say wald I a' my fee, For ane blast o' the western wind, To blaw the reek frae thee.
O then bespaik hir dochter dear, She was baith jimp and sma; O row me in a pair o' sheits, And tow me owre the wa.
They rowd hir in a pair o' sheits, And towd hir owre the wa: But on the point of Gordons spear She gat a deadly fa.
O bonnie bonnie was hir mouth, And cherry were her cheiks, And clear clear was hir zellow hair, Whereon the reid bluid dreips.
Then wi' his spear he turnd hir owre, O gin hir face was wan! He sayd, Ze are the first that eir I wisht alive again.
He turnd hir owre and owre againe, O gin hir skin was whyte! I might ha spared that bonnie face To hae been sum mans delyte.
Busk and boun, my merry men a', For ill dooms I doe guess; I cannae luik in that bonnie face, As it lyes on the grass.
Thame, luiks to freits, my master deir, Then freits wil follow thame: Let neir be said brave Edom o' Gordon Was daunted by a dame.
But quhen the ladye see the fire Cum flaming owre hir head, She wept and kist her children twain, Sayd, Bairns, we been but dead.
The Gordon then his bougill blew, And said, Awa', awa'; This house o' the Rodes is a' in flame, I hauld it time to ga'.
O then bespyed hir ain dear lord, As hee cam owr the lee; He sied his castle all in blaze Sa far as he could see.
Then sair, O sair his mind misgave, And all his hart was wae; Put on, put on, my wighty men, So fast as ze can gae.
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