†‡† I have placed the foregoing poem ofSkelton'sbefore the following extract fromHawes, not only because it was written first, but because I thinkSkeltonis in general to be considered as the earlier poet; many of his poems being written long beforeHawes'sGraunde Amour.
†‡† I have placed the foregoing poem ofSkelton'sbefore the following extract fromHawes, not only because it was written first, but because I thinkSkeltonis in general to be considered as the earlier poet; many of his poems being written long beforeHawes'sGraunde Amour.
FOOTNOTES:[569]The mother of Henry, first Earl of Northumberland, was Mary daughter to Henry E. of Lancaster, whose father Edmond was second son of K. Henry III.—The mother and wife of the second Earl of Northumberland were both lineal descendants of K. Edward III.—ThePercysalso were lineally descended from the Emperour Charlemagne and the ancient Kings of France, by his ancestor Josceline de Lovain (son of Godfrey Duke of Brabant), who took the name ofPercyon marrying the heiress of that house in the reign of Hen. II. Vid. CamdenBritan., Edmondson, &c.[570][against.][571][Helicons.][572][estate.][573][nobleness.][574][rough fellows.][575][wrath.][576][confederated.][577][slay.][578][churls by nature.][579][abode.][580][gloss over.][581][dreaded.][582][crouched.][583][a number.][584][large shield.][585][may.][586][fell.][587][against.][588][honour.][589][false dealing.][590][used.][591][refused.][592][they prepared themselves for an ambush.][593][trouble.][594][contend.][595][pride.][596][heeded.][597][set.][598][wild.][599][pity.][600][destroyed.][601]Alluding to his crest and supporters.Douttedis contracted forredoubted.[602][dreaded.][603][misused, applied to a bad purpose.][604][slayest.][605][hooked or edged.][606][cut.][607][perfect.][608][golden.][609][embellishing.][610][abundance.][611][fickle.][612][equal.][613][refer.][614][overpowered with hearty desire.][615][treachery.][616][whole choir.][617][the earl's son was only eleven years old at the time of his father's death.][618][deceivers.][619][although.][620][fine or forfeiture.][621][prey of the fiends.][622][interminable.][623][hierarchy.][624][whole company.][625][may.]
[569]The mother of Henry, first Earl of Northumberland, was Mary daughter to Henry E. of Lancaster, whose father Edmond was second son of K. Henry III.—The mother and wife of the second Earl of Northumberland were both lineal descendants of K. Edward III.—ThePercysalso were lineally descended from the Emperour Charlemagne and the ancient Kings of France, by his ancestor Josceline de Lovain (son of Godfrey Duke of Brabant), who took the name ofPercyon marrying the heiress of that house in the reign of Hen. II. Vid. CamdenBritan., Edmondson, &c.
[569]The mother of Henry, first Earl of Northumberland, was Mary daughter to Henry E. of Lancaster, whose father Edmond was second son of K. Henry III.—The mother and wife of the second Earl of Northumberland were both lineal descendants of K. Edward III.—ThePercysalso were lineally descended from the Emperour Charlemagne and the ancient Kings of France, by his ancestor Josceline de Lovain (son of Godfrey Duke of Brabant), who took the name ofPercyon marrying the heiress of that house in the reign of Hen. II. Vid. CamdenBritan., Edmondson, &c.
[570][against.]
[570][against.]
[571][Helicons.]
[571][Helicons.]
[572][estate.]
[572][estate.]
[573][nobleness.]
[573][nobleness.]
[574][rough fellows.]
[574][rough fellows.]
[575][wrath.]
[575][wrath.]
[576][confederated.]
[576][confederated.]
[577][slay.]
[577][slay.]
[578][churls by nature.]
[578][churls by nature.]
[579][abode.]
[579][abode.]
[580][gloss over.]
[580][gloss over.]
[581][dreaded.]
[581][dreaded.]
[582][crouched.]
[582][crouched.]
[583][a number.]
[583][a number.]
[584][large shield.]
[584][large shield.]
[585][may.]
[585][may.]
[586][fell.]
[586][fell.]
[587][against.]
[587][against.]
[588][honour.]
[588][honour.]
[589][false dealing.]
[589][false dealing.]
[590][used.]
[590][used.]
[591][refused.]
[591][refused.]
[592][they prepared themselves for an ambush.]
[592][they prepared themselves for an ambush.]
[593][trouble.]
[593][trouble.]
[594][contend.]
[594][contend.]
[595][pride.]
[595][pride.]
[596][heeded.]
[596][heeded.]
[597][set.]
[597][set.]
[598][wild.]
[598][wild.]
[599][pity.]
[599][pity.]
[600][destroyed.]
[600][destroyed.]
[601]Alluding to his crest and supporters.Douttedis contracted forredoubted.
[601]Alluding to his crest and supporters.Douttedis contracted forredoubted.
[602][dreaded.]
[602][dreaded.]
[603][misused, applied to a bad purpose.]
[603][misused, applied to a bad purpose.]
[604][slayest.]
[604][slayest.]
[605][hooked or edged.]
[605][hooked or edged.]
[606][cut.]
[606][cut.]
[607][perfect.]
[607][perfect.]
[608][golden.]
[608][golden.]
[609][embellishing.]
[609][embellishing.]
[610][abundance.]
[610][abundance.]
[611][fickle.]
[611][fickle.]
[612][equal.]
[612][equal.]
[613][refer.]
[613][refer.]
[614][overpowered with hearty desire.]
[614][overpowered with hearty desire.]
[615][treachery.]
[615][treachery.]
[616][whole choir.]
[616][whole choir.]
[617][the earl's son was only eleven years old at the time of his father's death.]
[617][the earl's son was only eleven years old at the time of his father's death.]
[618][deceivers.]
[618][deceivers.]
[619][although.]
[619][although.]
[620][fine or forfeiture.]
[620][fine or forfeiture.]
[621][prey of the fiends.]
[621][prey of the fiends.]
[622][interminable.]
[622][interminable.]
[623][hierarchy.]
[623][hierarchy.]
[624][whole company.]
[624][whole company.]
[625][may.]
[625][may.]
Thereader has here a specimen of the descriptive powers ofStephen Hawes, a celebrated poet in the reign of Hen. VII. tho' now little known. It is extracted from an allegorical poem of his (written in 1505.) intitled,The History of Graunde Amoure and La Bel Pucell, called thePastime of Pleasure, &c.4to. 1555. See more of Hawes inAth.Ox.v. 1. p. 6. and Warton'sObserv.v. 2. p. 105. He was also author of a book, intitled,The Temple of Glass. Wrote by StephenHawes, gentleman of the bedchamber to K. Henry VII.Pr. for Caxton, 4to. no date.
The following Stanzas are taken from Chap. III. and IV. of the Hist. above-mentioned. "How Fame departed from Graunde Amoure and left him with Governaunce and Grace, and how he went to the Tower of Doctrine, &c."—As we are able to give no small lyric piece of Hawes's, the reader will excuse the insertion of this extract.
[Most readers will probably be satisfied with the seventy-four lines that Percy has extracted from Hawes's long didactic poem, but those who wish to read the whole will find it reprinted by Mr. Thomas Wright in the fifteenth volume of the Percy Society's publications. The account of Rhetorick and the other allegorical nullities is weary reading, but the chapter in commendation of Gower, Chaucer and the author's master Lydgate, "the chefe orygynal of my lernyng," is interesting from a literary point of view. The poem was very popular in its own day and passed through several editions, and it has found admirers among critics of a later age. The Rev. Dr. Hodgson in a letter to Percy, dated Sept. 22, 1800,[626]speaks of it in very extravagant terms, and regrets that it had not then found an editor, as he regarded it "as one of the finest poems in our own or any other language." Warton describes Hawes as the only writer deserving the name of a poet in the reign of Henry VII. and says that "this poem contains no common touches of romantic and allegoric fiction." Mr. Wright however looks at it as "one of those allegorical writings which were popular with our forefathers, but which can now only be looked upon as monuments of the bad tasteof a bad age." Hawes was a native of Suffolk, but the dates of his birth and death are not known. He studied in the University of Oxford and afterwards travelled much, becoming "a complete master of the French and Italian poetry."]
[Most readers will probably be satisfied with the seventy-four lines that Percy has extracted from Hawes's long didactic poem, but those who wish to read the whole will find it reprinted by Mr. Thomas Wright in the fifteenth volume of the Percy Society's publications. The account of Rhetorick and the other allegorical nullities is weary reading, but the chapter in commendation of Gower, Chaucer and the author's master Lydgate, "the chefe orygynal of my lernyng," is interesting from a literary point of view. The poem was very popular in its own day and passed through several editions, and it has found admirers among critics of a later age. The Rev. Dr. Hodgson in a letter to Percy, dated Sept. 22, 1800,[626]speaks of it in very extravagant terms, and regrets that it had not then found an editor, as he regarded it "as one of the finest poems in our own or any other language." Warton describes Hawes as the only writer deserving the name of a poet in the reign of Henry VII. and says that "this poem contains no common touches of romantic and allegoric fiction." Mr. Wright however looks at it as "one of those allegorical writings which were popular with our forefathers, but which can now only be looked upon as monuments of the bad tasteof a bad age." Hawes was a native of Suffolk, but the dates of his birth and death are not known. He studied in the University of Oxford and afterwards travelled much, becoming "a complete master of the French and Italian poetry."]
Cap. III.
* * * * *I loked about and saw a craggy roche,Farre in the west, neare to the element,And as I dyd then unto it approche,Upon the toppe I sawe refulgentThe royal tower ofMorall Document,5Made of fine copper with turrettes fayre and hye,Which against Phebus shone so marveylously,That for the very perfect bryghtnesWhat of the tower, and of the cleare sunne,I could nothyng behold the goodlines10Of that palaice, whereas Doctrine did wonne:[627]Tyll at the last, with mysty wyndes donne,The radiant brightnes of golden PhebusAuster gan cover with clowde tenebrus.[628]Then to the tower I drewe nere and nere,15And often mused of the great hyghnesOf the craggy rocke, which quadrant did appeare:But the fayre tower, so much of rychesWas all about, sexangled doubtles;Gargeyld[629]with grayhoundes, and with manylyons,20Made of fyne golde; with divers sundry dragons.[630]The little turrets with ymages of goldeAbout was set, whiche with the wynde aye moved.Wyth propre vices,[631]the I did well beholdeAbout the towers, in sundry wyse they hoved[632]25With goodly pypes, in their mouthes i-tuned,That with the wynde they pyped a daunce,I-clipped[633]Amour de la hault plesaunce.
* * * * *I loked about and saw a craggy roche,Farre in the west, neare to the element,And as I dyd then unto it approche,Upon the toppe I sawe refulgentThe royal tower ofMorall Document,5Made of fine copper with turrettes fayre and hye,Which against Phebus shone so marveylously,
That for the very perfect bryghtnesWhat of the tower, and of the cleare sunne,I could nothyng behold the goodlines10Of that palaice, whereas Doctrine did wonne:[627]Tyll at the last, with mysty wyndes donne,The radiant brightnes of golden PhebusAuster gan cover with clowde tenebrus.[628]
Then to the tower I drewe nere and nere,15And often mused of the great hyghnesOf the craggy rocke, which quadrant did appeare:But the fayre tower, so much of rychesWas all about, sexangled doubtles;Gargeyld[629]with grayhoundes, and with manylyons,20Made of fyne golde; with divers sundry dragons.[630]
The little turrets with ymages of goldeAbout was set, whiche with the wynde aye moved.Wyth propre vices,[631]the I did well beholdeAbout the towers, in sundry wyse they hoved[632]25With goodly pypes, in their mouthes i-tuned,That with the wynde they pyped a daunce,I-clipped[633]Amour de la hault plesaunce.
Cap. IV.
The toure was great and of marvelous wydnes,To whyche ther was no way to passe but one,30Into the toure for to have an intres:[634]A grece[635]there was y-chesyled all of stoneOut of the rocke, on whyche men dyd goneUp to the toure, and in lykewyse dyd IWyth bothe the Grayhoundes in my company:[636]35Tyll that I came unto a ryall gate,Where I sawe stondynge the goodly Portres,Whiche axed me, from whence I came a-late?To whome I gan in every thynge expresseAll myne adventure, chaunce, and busynesse,40And eke my name; I tolde her every dell:Whan she herde this, she lyked me right well.Her name, she sayd, was calledCountenaunce;Into the besy[637]courte she dyd me then lede,Where was a fountayne depured[638]of pleasance,45A noble sprynge, a ryall conduyte hede,Made of fyne golde enameled with reed;And on the toppe four dragons blewe and stouteThys dulcet water in foure partyes dyd spout.Of whyche there flowed foure ryvers ryght clere,50Sweter than Nylus[639]or Ganges was theyr odoure;Tygrys or Eufrates unto them no pere:I dyd than taste the aromatyke lycoure,Fragraunt of fume, swete as any floure;And in my mouthe it had a marveylous cent[640]55Of divers spyces, I knewe not what it ment.And after thys farther forth me broughtDame Countenaunce into a goodly Hall,Of jasper stones it was wonderly wrought:The wyndowes cleare depured all of crystall,60And in the roufe on hye over allOf golde was made a ryght crafty vyne;In stede of grapes the rubies there did shyne.The flore was paved with berall clarified,With pillers made of stones precious,65Like a place of pleasure so gayely glorified,It myght be called a palaice glorious,So muche delectable and solacious;[641]The hall was hanged hye and circulerWith cloth of arras in the rychest maner.70That treated well of a ful noble story,Of the doubty waye to the Tower Perillous;[642]Howe a noble knyght should wynne the victoryOf many a serpente fowle and odious.* * * * *
The toure was great and of marvelous wydnes,To whyche ther was no way to passe but one,30Into the toure for to have an intres:[634]A grece[635]there was y-chesyled all of stoneOut of the rocke, on whyche men dyd goneUp to the toure, and in lykewyse dyd IWyth bothe the Grayhoundes in my company:[636]35
Tyll that I came unto a ryall gate,Where I sawe stondynge the goodly Portres,Whiche axed me, from whence I came a-late?To whome I gan in every thynge expresseAll myne adventure, chaunce, and busynesse,40And eke my name; I tolde her every dell:Whan she herde this, she lyked me right well.
Her name, she sayd, was calledCountenaunce;Into the besy[637]courte she dyd me then lede,Where was a fountayne depured[638]of pleasance,45A noble sprynge, a ryall conduyte hede,Made of fyne golde enameled with reed;And on the toppe four dragons blewe and stouteThys dulcet water in foure partyes dyd spout.
Of whyche there flowed foure ryvers ryght clere,50Sweter than Nylus[639]or Ganges was theyr odoure;Tygrys or Eufrates unto them no pere:I dyd than taste the aromatyke lycoure,Fragraunt of fume, swete as any floure;And in my mouthe it had a marveylous cent[640]55Of divers spyces, I knewe not what it ment.
And after thys farther forth me broughtDame Countenaunce into a goodly Hall,Of jasper stones it was wonderly wrought:The wyndowes cleare depured all of crystall,60And in the roufe on hye over allOf golde was made a ryght crafty vyne;In stede of grapes the rubies there did shyne.
The flore was paved with berall clarified,With pillers made of stones precious,65Like a place of pleasure so gayely glorified,It myght be called a palaice glorious,So muche delectable and solacious;[641]The hall was hanged hye and circulerWith cloth of arras in the rychest maner.70
That treated well of a ful noble story,Of the doubty waye to the Tower Perillous;[642]Howe a noble knyght should wynne the victoryOf many a serpente fowle and odious.* * * * *
FOOTNOTES:[626]Nichols'Illustrations of Literature, vol viii. p. 344.[627][dwell.][628][dark.][629][from gargoyle the spout of a gutter.][630]Greyhounds, Lions, Dragons, were at that time the royal supporters.[631][devices.][632][heaved.][633][called.][634][entrance.][635][a flight of steps.][636]This alludes to a former part of the Poem.[637][busy. Percy reads base or lower court.][638][purified.][639]Nysus.PC.[640][scent.][641][affording solace.][642]The story of the poem.
[626]Nichols'Illustrations of Literature, vol viii. p. 344.
[626]Nichols'Illustrations of Literature, vol viii. p. 344.
[627][dwell.]
[627][dwell.]
[628][dark.]
[628][dark.]
[629][from gargoyle the spout of a gutter.]
[629][from gargoyle the spout of a gutter.]
[630]Greyhounds, Lions, Dragons, were at that time the royal supporters.
[630]Greyhounds, Lions, Dragons, were at that time the royal supporters.
[631][devices.]
[631][devices.]
[632][heaved.]
[632][heaved.]
[633][called.]
[633][called.]
[634][entrance.]
[634][entrance.]
[635][a flight of steps.]
[635][a flight of steps.]
[636]This alludes to a former part of the Poem.
[636]This alludes to a former part of the Poem.
[637][busy. Percy reads base or lower court.]
[637][busy. Percy reads base or lower court.]
[638][purified.]
[638][purified.]
[639]Nysus.PC.
[639]Nysus.PC.
[640][scent.]
[640][scent.]
[641][affording solace.]
[641][affording solace.]
[642]The story of the poem.
[642]The story of the poem.
Isgiven from a fragment in the Editor's folio MS. which, tho' extremely defective and mutilated, appeared to have so much merit, that it excited a strong desire to attempt a completion of the story. The Reader will easily discover the supplemental stanzas by their inferiority, and at the same time be inclined to pardon it, when he considers how difficult it must be to imitate the affecting simplicity and artless beauties of the original.
Childwas a title sometimes given to a knight.
[TheChild of Ell, as it appears in the folio MS., is a fragment without beginning or ending, so that Percy was forced to add some verses in order to fit it for his book, but the above note does not give any adequate notion of his contributions to the ballad. The verses that are entirely due to the bishop's pen are placed between brackets, and it will be seen from the copy of the original printed at the end that the remaining thirty lines are much altered from it. It is unfortunate that Percy's taste was not sufficient to save him from adding sentimental verses so out of character with the directness of the original as—
[TheChild of Ell, as it appears in the folio MS., is a fragment without beginning or ending, so that Percy was forced to add some verses in order to fit it for his book, but the above note does not give any adequate notion of his contributions to the ballad. The verses that are entirely due to the bishop's pen are placed between brackets, and it will be seen from the copy of the original printed at the end that the remaining thirty lines are much altered from it. It is unfortunate that Percy's taste was not sufficient to save him from adding sentimental verses so out of character with the directness of the original as—
"Fair Emmeline sighed, fair Emmeline wept,And aye her heart was woe:At length he seized her lilly-white hand,And downe the ladder he drewe."
"Fair Emmeline sighed, fair Emmeline wept,And aye her heart was woe:At length he seized her lilly-white hand,And downe the ladder he drewe."
On the other hand, the poem as it stands is certainly elegant, and Sir Walter Scott was justified in his high praise when he pointed out the beauty of verses 181-184.
On the other hand, the poem as it stands is certainly elegant, and Sir Walter Scott was justified in his high praise when he pointed out the beauty of verses 181-184.
"The baron he stroked his dark brown cheek,And turned his head asideTo wipe away the starting tear,He proudly strave to hide."
"The baron he stroked his dark brown cheek,And turned his head asideTo wipe away the starting tear,He proudly strave to hide."
Scott published a ballad called "Erlinton" for the first time in hisBorder Minstrelsy, which he says "seems to be the rude original, or perhaps a corrupt and imperfect copy ofThe Child of Elle."The original fragment from the MS. is worth reading for its own sake as a genuine antique, which must outweigh in interest all manufactured imitations.]
Scott published a ballad called "Erlinton" for the first time in hisBorder Minstrelsy, which he says "seems to be the rude original, or perhaps a corrupt and imperfect copy ofThe Child of Elle."
The original fragment from the MS. is worth reading for its own sake as a genuine antique, which must outweigh in interest all manufactured imitations.]
[On yonder hill a castle standesWith walles and towres bedight,[643]And yonder lives the Child of Elle,A younge and comely knighte.The Child of Elle to his garden wente,5And stood at his garden pale,Whan, lo! he beheld fair Emmelines pageCome trippinge downe the dale.The Child of Elle he hyed him thence,Y-wis he stoode not stille,10And soone he mette faire Emmelines pageCome climbing up the hille.Nowe Christe thee save, thou little foot-page,Now Christe thee save and see!Oh telle me how does thy ladye gaye,15And what may thy tydinges bee?My lady shee is all woe-begone,And the teares they falle from her eyne;And aye she laments the deadlye feudeBetweene her house and thine.20And here shee sends thee a silken scarfeBedewde with many a teare,And biddes thee sometimes thinke on her,Who loved thee so deare.And here shee sends thee a ring of golde25The last boone thou mayst have,And biddes thee weare it for her sake,Whan she is layde in grave.For, ah! her gentle heart is broke,And in grave soone must shee bee,30Sith her father hath chose her a new new love,And forbidde her to think of thee.Her father hath brought her a carlish[644]knight,Sir John of the north countràye,And within three dayes shee must him wedde,35Or he vowes he will her slaye.Nowe hye thee backe, thou little foot-page,And greet thy ladye from mee,And telle her that I her owne true loveWill dye, or sette her free.40Nowe hye thee backe, thou little foot-page,And let thy fair ladye knowThis night will I bee at her bowre-windòwe,Betide me weale or woe.The boye he tripped, the boye he ranne,45He neither stint ne staydUntill he came to fair Emmelines bowre,Whan kneeling downe he sayd,O ladye, I've been with thy own true love,And he greets thee well by mee;50This night will he bee at thy bowre-windòwe,And dye or sette thee free.Nowe daye was gone, and night was come,And all were fast asleepe,All save the ladye Emmeline,55Who sate in her bowre to weepe:And soone shee heard her true loves voiceLowe whispering at the walle,Awake, awake, my deare ladyè,Tis I thy true love call.60Awake, awake, my ladye deare,Come, mount this faire palfràye:This ladder of ropes will lette thee downe,Ile carrye thee hence awaye.Nowe nay, nowe nay, thou gentle knight,65Nowe nay, this may not bee;For aye shold I tint my maiden fame,If alone I should wend with thee.O ladye, thou with a knighte so trueMayst safelye wend alone,70To my ladye mother I will thee bringe,Where marriage shall make us one."My father he is a baron bolde,Of lynage proude and hye;And what would he saye if his daughtèr75Awaye with a knight should fly?Ah! well I wot, he never would rest,]Nor his meate should doe him no goode,Until he had slayne thee, Child of Elle,And seene thy deare hearts bloode."80O ladye, wert thou in thy saddle sette,And a little space him fro,I would not care for thy cruel fathèr,Nor the worst that he could doe.O ladye, wert thou in thy saddle sette,85And once without this walle,I would not care for thy cruel fathèr,Nor the worst that might befalle.[Faire Emmeline sighed, fair Emmeline wept,And aye her heart was woe:90At length he seized her lilly-white hand,And downe the ladder he drewe:And thrice he clasped her to his breste,And kist her tenderlìe:The teares that fell from her fair eyes,95Ranne like the fountayne free.]Hee mounted himselfe on his steede so talle,And her on a fair palfràye,And slung his bugle about his necke,And roundlye they rode awaye.100[All this beheard her owne damsèlle,In her bed whereas shee ley,Quoth shee, My lord shall knowe of this,Soe I shall have golde and fee.Awake, awake, thou baron bolde!105Awake, my noble dame!Your daughter is fledde with the Child of Elle,To doe the deede of shame.The baron he woke, the baron he rose,And called his merrye men all:110"And come thou forth, Sir John the knighte,Thy ladye is carried to thrall."[645]]Faire Emmeline scant had ridden a mile,A mile forth of the towne,When she was aware of her fathers men115Come galloping over the downe:[And foremost came the carlish knight,Sir John of the north countràye:"Nowe stop, nowe stop, thou false traitòure,Nor carry that ladye awaye.120For she is come of hye lineàge,And was of a ladye borne,And ill it beseems thee a false churl's sonneTo carrye her hence to scorne."]Nowe loud thou lyest, Sir John the knight,125Nowe thou doest lye of mee;A knight mee gott, and a ladye me bore,Soe never did none by thee.But light nowe downe, my ladye faire,Light downe, and hold my steed,130While I and this discourteous knighteDoe trye this arduous deede.But light now downe, my deare ladyè,Light downe, and hold my horse;While I and this discourteous knight135[Doe trye our valour's force.Fair Emmeline sighed, fair Emmeline wept,And aye her heart was woe,While twixt her love and the carlish knightPast many a baleful blowe.140The Child of Elle hee fought soe well,As his weapon he waived amaine,That soone he had slaine the carlish knight,And layd him upon the plaine.And nowe the baron, and all his men145Full fast approached nye:Ah! what may ladye Emmeline doe?Twere nowe no boote[646]to flye.Her lover he put his horne to his mouth,And blew both loud and shrill,150And soone he saw his owne merry menCome ryding over the hill."Nowe hold thy hand, thou bold baròn,I pray thee hold thy hand,Nor ruthless rend two gentle hearts,155Fast knit in true love's band.Thy daughter I have dearly lovedFull long and many a day;But with such love as holy kirkeHath freelye sayd wee may.160O give consent, shee may be mine,And blesse a faithfull paire:My lands and livings are not small,My house and lineage faire:My mother she was an earl's daughtèr,165And a noble knyght my sire——The baron he frowned, and turn'd awayWith mickle dole and ire."Fair Emmeline sighed, faire Emmeline wept,And did all tremblinge stand:170At lengthe she sprang upon her knee.And held his lifted hand.Pardon, my lorde and father deare,This faire yong knyght and mee:Trust me, but for the carlish knyght,175I never had fled from thee.Oft have you called your EmmelineYour darling and your joye;O let not then your harsh resolvesYour Emmeline destroye.180The baron he stroakt his dark-brown cheeke,And turned his heade asydeTo whipe awaye the starting teare,He proudly strave to hyde.In deepe revolving thought he stoode,185And mused a little space;Then raised faire Emmeline from the grounde,With many a fond embrace.Here take her, Child of Elle, he sayd,And gave her lillye white hand;190Here take my deare and only child,And with her half my land:Thy father once mine honour wrongdeIn dayes of youthful pride;Do thou the injurye repayre195In fondnesse for thy bride.And as thou love her, and hold her deare,Heaven prosper thee and thine:And nowe my blessing wend wi' thee,My lovelye Emmeline.]200
[On yonder hill a castle standesWith walles and towres bedight,[643]And yonder lives the Child of Elle,A younge and comely knighte.
The Child of Elle to his garden wente,5And stood at his garden pale,Whan, lo! he beheld fair Emmelines pageCome trippinge downe the dale.
The Child of Elle he hyed him thence,Y-wis he stoode not stille,10And soone he mette faire Emmelines pageCome climbing up the hille.
Nowe Christe thee save, thou little foot-page,Now Christe thee save and see!Oh telle me how does thy ladye gaye,15And what may thy tydinges bee?
My lady shee is all woe-begone,And the teares they falle from her eyne;And aye she laments the deadlye feudeBetweene her house and thine.20
And here shee sends thee a silken scarfeBedewde with many a teare,And biddes thee sometimes thinke on her,Who loved thee so deare.
And here shee sends thee a ring of golde25The last boone thou mayst have,And biddes thee weare it for her sake,Whan she is layde in grave.
For, ah! her gentle heart is broke,And in grave soone must shee bee,30Sith her father hath chose her a new new love,And forbidde her to think of thee.
Her father hath brought her a carlish[644]knight,Sir John of the north countràye,And within three dayes shee must him wedde,35Or he vowes he will her slaye.
Nowe hye thee backe, thou little foot-page,And greet thy ladye from mee,And telle her that I her owne true loveWill dye, or sette her free.40
Nowe hye thee backe, thou little foot-page,And let thy fair ladye knowThis night will I bee at her bowre-windòwe,Betide me weale or woe.
The boye he tripped, the boye he ranne,45He neither stint ne staydUntill he came to fair Emmelines bowre,Whan kneeling downe he sayd,
O ladye, I've been with thy own true love,And he greets thee well by mee;50This night will he bee at thy bowre-windòwe,And dye or sette thee free.
Nowe daye was gone, and night was come,And all were fast asleepe,All save the ladye Emmeline,55Who sate in her bowre to weepe:
And soone shee heard her true loves voiceLowe whispering at the walle,Awake, awake, my deare ladyè,Tis I thy true love call.60
Awake, awake, my ladye deare,Come, mount this faire palfràye:This ladder of ropes will lette thee downe,Ile carrye thee hence awaye.
Nowe nay, nowe nay, thou gentle knight,65Nowe nay, this may not bee;For aye shold I tint my maiden fame,If alone I should wend with thee.
O ladye, thou with a knighte so trueMayst safelye wend alone,70To my ladye mother I will thee bringe,Where marriage shall make us one.
"My father he is a baron bolde,Of lynage proude and hye;And what would he saye if his daughtèr75Awaye with a knight should fly?
Ah! well I wot, he never would rest,]Nor his meate should doe him no goode,Until he had slayne thee, Child of Elle,And seene thy deare hearts bloode."80
O ladye, wert thou in thy saddle sette,And a little space him fro,I would not care for thy cruel fathèr,Nor the worst that he could doe.
O ladye, wert thou in thy saddle sette,85And once without this walle,I would not care for thy cruel fathèr,Nor the worst that might befalle.
[Faire Emmeline sighed, fair Emmeline wept,And aye her heart was woe:90At length he seized her lilly-white hand,And downe the ladder he drewe:
And thrice he clasped her to his breste,And kist her tenderlìe:The teares that fell from her fair eyes,95Ranne like the fountayne free.]
Hee mounted himselfe on his steede so talle,And her on a fair palfràye,And slung his bugle about his necke,And roundlye they rode awaye.100
[All this beheard her owne damsèlle,In her bed whereas shee ley,Quoth shee, My lord shall knowe of this,Soe I shall have golde and fee.
Awake, awake, thou baron bolde!105Awake, my noble dame!Your daughter is fledde with the Child of Elle,To doe the deede of shame.
The baron he woke, the baron he rose,And called his merrye men all:110"And come thou forth, Sir John the knighte,Thy ladye is carried to thrall."[645]]
Faire Emmeline scant had ridden a mile,A mile forth of the towne,When she was aware of her fathers men115Come galloping over the downe:
[And foremost came the carlish knight,Sir John of the north countràye:"Nowe stop, nowe stop, thou false traitòure,Nor carry that ladye awaye.120
For she is come of hye lineàge,And was of a ladye borne,And ill it beseems thee a false churl's sonneTo carrye her hence to scorne."]
Nowe loud thou lyest, Sir John the knight,125Nowe thou doest lye of mee;A knight mee gott, and a ladye me bore,Soe never did none by thee.
But light nowe downe, my ladye faire,Light downe, and hold my steed,130While I and this discourteous knighteDoe trye this arduous deede.
But light now downe, my deare ladyè,Light downe, and hold my horse;While I and this discourteous knight135[Doe trye our valour's force.
Fair Emmeline sighed, fair Emmeline wept,And aye her heart was woe,While twixt her love and the carlish knightPast many a baleful blowe.140
The Child of Elle hee fought soe well,As his weapon he waived amaine,That soone he had slaine the carlish knight,And layd him upon the plaine.
And nowe the baron, and all his men145Full fast approached nye:Ah! what may ladye Emmeline doe?Twere nowe no boote[646]to flye.
Her lover he put his horne to his mouth,And blew both loud and shrill,150And soone he saw his owne merry menCome ryding over the hill.
"Nowe hold thy hand, thou bold baròn,I pray thee hold thy hand,Nor ruthless rend two gentle hearts,155Fast knit in true love's band.
Thy daughter I have dearly lovedFull long and many a day;But with such love as holy kirkeHath freelye sayd wee may.160
O give consent, shee may be mine,And blesse a faithfull paire:My lands and livings are not small,My house and lineage faire:
My mother she was an earl's daughtèr,165And a noble knyght my sire——The baron he frowned, and turn'd awayWith mickle dole and ire."
Fair Emmeline sighed, faire Emmeline wept,And did all tremblinge stand:170At lengthe she sprang upon her knee.And held his lifted hand.
Pardon, my lorde and father deare,This faire yong knyght and mee:Trust me, but for the carlish knyght,175I never had fled from thee.
Oft have you called your EmmelineYour darling and your joye;O let not then your harsh resolvesYour Emmeline destroye.180
The baron he stroakt his dark-brown cheeke,And turned his heade asydeTo whipe awaye the starting teare,He proudly strave to hyde.
In deepe revolving thought he stoode,185And mused a little space;Then raised faire Emmeline from the grounde,With many a fond embrace.
Here take her, Child of Elle, he sayd,And gave her lillye white hand;190Here take my deare and only child,And with her half my land:
Thy father once mine honour wrongdeIn dayes of youthful pride;Do thou the injurye repayre195In fondnesse for thy bride.
And as thou love her, and hold her deare,Heaven prosper thee and thine:And nowe my blessing wend wi' thee,My lovelye Emmeline.]200
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