VIII.THE BAILIFF'S DAUGHTER OF ISLINGTON.

FOOTNOTES:[322]An ingenious friend thinks the rhymesDyandandLyandought to be transposed; as the tauntYoung man, I think ye'reyand, would be very characteristical.

[322]An ingenious friend thinks the rhymesDyandandLyandought to be transposed; as the tauntYoung man, I think ye'reyand, would be very characteristical.

Froman ancient black-letter copy in the PepysCollection, with some improvements communicated by a lady as she had heard the same recited in her youth. The full title is,True love requited: Or, the Bailiff's daughter ofIslington.

Islingtonin Norfolk is probably the place here meant.

[Copies of this charming old ballad are found in all the large collections, and two tunes are associated with it.Percy's suggestion that Islington in Norfolk is referred to is not a probable one, and there seems to be no reason for depriving the better known Islington of the south of the honour of having given birth to the bailiff's daughter. Islington at the time when this ballad was written was a country village quite unconnected with London, and a person who represented "a squier minstrel of Middlesex" made a speech before Queen Elizabeth at Kenilworth in 1575, in which he declared "how the worshipful village of Islington [was] well knooen too bee one of the most auncient and best tounz in England, next to London."]

[Copies of this charming old ballad are found in all the large collections, and two tunes are associated with it.

Percy's suggestion that Islington in Norfolk is referred to is not a probable one, and there seems to be no reason for depriving the better known Islington of the south of the honour of having given birth to the bailiff's daughter. Islington at the time when this ballad was written was a country village quite unconnected with London, and a person who represented "a squier minstrel of Middlesex" made a speech before Queen Elizabeth at Kenilworth in 1575, in which he declared "how the worshipful village of Islington [was] well knooen too bee one of the most auncient and best tounz in England, next to London."]

There was a youthe, and a well-beloved youthe,And he was a squires son;He loved the bayliffes daughter deare,That lived in Islington.Yet she was coye and would not believe5That he did love her soe,Noe nor at any time would sheAny countenance to him showe.But when his friendes did understandHis fond and foolish minde,10They sent him up to faire LondonAn apprentice for to binde.And when he had been seven long yeares,And never his love could see:Many a teare have I shed for her sake,15When she little thought of mee.Then all the maids of IslingtonWent forth to sport and playe,All but the bayliffes daughter deare;She secretly stole awaye.20She pulled off her gowne of greene,And put on ragged attire,And to faire London she would goHer true love to enquire.And as she went along the high road,25The weather being hot and drye,She sat her downe upon a green bank,And her true love came riding bye.She started up, with a colour soe redd,Catching hold of his bridle-reine;30One penny, one penny, kind sir, she sayd,Will ease me of much paine.Before I give you one penny, sweet-heart,Praye tell me where you were borne.At Islington, kind sir, sayd shee,35Where I have had many a scorne.I prythee, sweet-heart, then tell to mee,O tell me, whether you knoweThe bayliffes daughter of Islington,She is dead, sir, long agoe.40If she be dead, then take my horse,My saddle and bridle also;For I will into some farr countrye,Where noe man shall me knowe.O staye, O staye, thou goodlye youthe,45She standeth by thy side;She is here alive, she is not dead,And readye to be thy bride.O farewell griefe, and welcome joye,Ten thousand times therefore;50For nowe I have founde mine owne true love,Whom I thought I should never see more.

There was a youthe, and a well-beloved youthe,And he was a squires son;He loved the bayliffes daughter deare,That lived in Islington.

Yet she was coye and would not believe5That he did love her soe,Noe nor at any time would sheAny countenance to him showe.

But when his friendes did understandHis fond and foolish minde,10They sent him up to faire LondonAn apprentice for to binde.

And when he had been seven long yeares,And never his love could see:Many a teare have I shed for her sake,15When she little thought of mee.

Then all the maids of IslingtonWent forth to sport and playe,All but the bayliffes daughter deare;She secretly stole awaye.20

She pulled off her gowne of greene,And put on ragged attire,And to faire London she would goHer true love to enquire.

And as she went along the high road,25The weather being hot and drye,She sat her downe upon a green bank,And her true love came riding bye.

She started up, with a colour soe redd,Catching hold of his bridle-reine;30One penny, one penny, kind sir, she sayd,Will ease me of much paine.

Before I give you one penny, sweet-heart,Praye tell me where you were borne.At Islington, kind sir, sayd shee,35Where I have had many a scorne.

I prythee, sweet-heart, then tell to mee,O tell me, whether you knoweThe bayliffes daughter of Islington,She is dead, sir, long agoe.40

If she be dead, then take my horse,My saddle and bridle also;For I will into some farr countrye,Where noe man shall me knowe.

O staye, O staye, thou goodlye youthe,45She standeth by thy side;She is here alive, she is not dead,And readye to be thy bride.

O farewell griefe, and welcome joye,Ten thousand times therefore;50For nowe I have founde mine owne true love,Whom I thought I should never see more.

A Pastoral Dialogue.

Fromthe small black-letter collection, intitled,TheGolden Garland of princely delights; collated with two other copies, and corrected by conjecture.

[Dr. Rimbault gives the melody of this pretty little pastoral on the favourite subject of wearing the willow from a MS. dated 1639 in the Advocate's Library, Edinburgh. It is also to be found in the celebrated Skene MS. in the same library, and again in all the editions of Forbes'sCantus.]

Willy.

How now, shepherde, what meanes that?Why that willowe in thy hat?Why thy scarffes of red and yelloweTurn'd to branches of greene willowe?

Cuddy.

They are chang'd, and so am I;5Sorrowes live, but pleasures die:Phillis hath forsaken mee,Which makes me weare the willowe-tree.

Willy.

Phillis! shee that lov'd thee long?Is shee the lass hath done thee wrong?10Shee that lov'd thee long and best,Is her love turn'd to a jest?

Cuddy.

Shee that long true love profest,She hath robb'd my heart of rest:For she a new love loves, not mee;15Which makes me wear the willowe-tree.

Willy.

Come then, shepherde, let us joine,Since thy happ is like to mine:For the maid I thought most true,Mee hath also bid adieu.20

Cuddy.

Thy hard happ doth mine appease,Companye doth sorrowe ease:Yet, Phillis, still I pine for thee,And still must weare the willowe-tree.

Willy.

Shepherde, be advis'd by mee,25Cast off grief and willowe-tree:For thy grief brings her content,She is pleas'd if thou lament.

Cuddy.

Herdsman, I'll be rul'd by thee,There lyes grief and willowe-tree:30Henceforth I will do as they,And love a new love every day.

Isgiven (with corrections) from the Editor's ancient folio MS.[323]collated with two printed copies in black-letter; one in the British Museum, the other in the Pepys Collection. Its old title is,A lamentable ballad of theLady's fall. To the tune of,In Pescod time, &c.—The ballad here referred to is preserved in theMuses Library, 8vo. p. 281. It is an allegory or vision, intitled,The Shepherd's Slumber, and opens with some pretty rural images, viz.

"In pescod time when hound to hornGives eare till buck be kil'd,And little lads with pipes of corneSate keeping beasts a-field.""I went to gather strawberriesBy woods and groves full fair, &c."

"In pescod time when hound to hornGives eare till buck be kil'd,And little lads with pipes of corneSate keeping beasts a-field."

"I went to gather strawberriesBy woods and groves full fair, &c."

[Mr. Hales thinks it possible that this ballad was written by the same author asThe Children in the Wood—"the same facility oflanguage and of rhyme, the same power of pathos, the same extreme simplicity characterise both ballads."Mr. Chappell says thatChevy Chacewas sometimes sung to the tune ofIn Pescod time, as were theBride's burial(No. 12), andLady Isabella's Tragedy(No. 14). The various readings from the original MS. are noted at the foot of the page.]

Mr. Chappell says thatChevy Chacewas sometimes sung to the tune ofIn Pescod time, as were theBride's burial(No. 12), andLady Isabella's Tragedy(No. 14). The various readings from the original MS. are noted at the foot of the page.]

Marke well my heavy dolefull tale,You loyall lovers all,And heedfully beare in your brest,A gallant ladyes fall.Long was she wooed, ere shee was wonne,5To lead a wedded life,But folly wrought her overthroweBefore she was a wife.Too soone, alas! shee gave consentAnd yeelded to his will,10Though he protested to be true,And faithfull to her still.Shee felt her body altered quite,Her bright hue waxed pale,Her lovelye cheeks chang'd color white,[324]15Her strength began to fayle.Soe that with many a sorrowful sigh,[325]This beauteous ladye milde,With greeved hart, perceived herselfeTo have conceived with childe.[326]20Shee kept it from her parents sightAs close as close might bee,And soe put on her silken gowneNone might her swelling see.[327]Unto her lover secretly25Her greefe shee did bewray,And walking with him hand in hand,These words to him did say;Behold, quoth shee, a maids distresse[328]By love brought to thy bowe;[329]30Behold I goe with childe by thee,[330]Tho none thereof doth knowe.The litle babe springs in my wombe[331]To heare its fathers voyce,Lett it not be a bastard called,[332]35Sith I made thee my choyce:[Come, come, my love, perform thy vowe[333]And wed me out of hand;[333]O leave me not in this extreme[333]Of griefe, alas! to stand.][333]40Think on thy former promises,Thy oathes and vowes eche one;[334]Remember with what bitter tearesTo mee thou madest thy moane.Convay me to some secrett place,45And marry me with speede;Or with thy rapyer end my life,Ere further shame proceede.[335]Alacke! my beauteous love, quoth hee,[336]My joye, and only dear;[337]50Which way can I convay thee hence,[338]When dangers are so near?[339]Thy friends are all of hye degree,[340]And I of meane estate;Full hard it is to gett thee forthe[341]55Out of thy fathers gate.[342]Dread not thy life to save my fame,[343]For if thou taken bee,[344]My selfe will step betweene the swords,[345]And take the harme on mee:[346]60Soe shall I scape dishonor quite;[347]And if I should be slaine[348]What could they say, but that true loveHad wrought a ladyes bane.[349]But feare not any further harme;65My selfe will soe devise,That I will ryde away with thee[350]Unknowen of mortall eyes:Disguised like some pretty pageIle meete thee in the darke,70And all alone Ile come to theeHard by my fathers parke.And there, quoth hee, Ile meete my deareIf God soe lend me life,On this day month without all fayle75I will make thee my wife.[351]Then with a sweet and loving kisse,[352]They parted presentlye,And att their partinge brinish tearesStoode in eche others eye,80Att length the wished day was come,[353]On which this beauteous mayd,With longing eyes, and strange attire,For her true lover stayd.When any person shee espyed[354]85Come ryding ore the plaine,[355]She hop'd it was her owne true love:[356]But all her hopes were vaine.Then did shee weepe and sore bewayleHer most unhappy fate;90Then did shee speake these woefull words,As succourless she sate;[357]O false, forsworne, and faithlesse man,[358]Disloyall in thy love,Hast thou forgott thy promise past,95And wilt thou perjured prove?And hast thou now forsaken meeIn this my great distresse,To end my dayes in open shame,[359]Which thou mightst well redresse?[360]100Woe worth the time I eer believ'd[361]That flattering tongue of thine:Wold God that I had never seeneThe teares of thy false eyne.And thus with many a sorrowful sigh,[362]105Homewards shee went againe;[363]Noe rest came in her waterye eyes,Shee felt such privye paine.[364]In travail strong shee fell that night,With many a bitter throwe;[365]110What woefull paines shee then did feel,[366]Doth eche good woman knowe.Shee called up her waiting mayd,[367]That lay at her bedds feete,[368]Who musing at her mistress woe,[369]115Began full fast to weepe.Weepe not, said shee, but shutt the dores,[370]And windowes round about,[371]Let none bewray my wretched state,But keepe all persons out.120O mistress, call your mother deare;Of women you have neede,And of some skilfull midwifes helpe,[372]That better may you speed.[373]Call not my mother for thy life,125Nor fetch no woman here;The midwives helpe comes all too late,My death I doe not feare.With that the babe sprang from her wombeNo creature being nye,[374]130And with one sighe, which brake her hart,This gentle dame did dye.[375]The lovely litle infant younge,[376][The mother being dead,][377]Resigned its new received breath,135To him that had it made.Next morning came her own true love,Affrighted at the newes,[378]And he for sorrow slew himselfe,Whom eche one did accuse.140The mother with her new borne babe,Were laide both in one grave:Their parents overworne with woe,No joy thenceforth cold have.[379]Take heed, you dayntye damsells all,145Of flattering words beware,And to the honour of your nameHave an especial care.[380][Too true, alas! this story is,[381]As many one can tell:[381]150By others harmes learne to be wise,[381]And you shall do full well.][381]

Too soone, alas! shee gave consentAnd yeelded to his will,10Though he protested to be true,And faithfull to her still.Shee felt her body altered quite,Her bright hue waxed pale,Her lovelye cheeks chang'd color white,[324]15Her strength began to fayle.

Soe that with many a sorrowful sigh,[325]This beauteous ladye milde,With greeved hart, perceived herselfeTo have conceived with childe.[326]20Shee kept it from her parents sightAs close as close might bee,And soe put on her silken gowneNone might her swelling see.[327]

Unto her lover secretly25Her greefe shee did bewray,And walking with him hand in hand,These words to him did say;Behold, quoth shee, a maids distresse[328]By love brought to thy bowe;[329]30Behold I goe with childe by thee,[330]Tho none thereof doth knowe.

The litle babe springs in my wombe[331]To heare its fathers voyce,Lett it not be a bastard called,[332]35Sith I made thee my choyce:[Come, come, my love, perform thy vowe[333]And wed me out of hand;[333]O leave me not in this extreme[333]Of griefe, alas! to stand.][333]40

Think on thy former promises,Thy oathes and vowes eche one;[334]Remember with what bitter tearesTo mee thou madest thy moane.Convay me to some secrett place,45And marry me with speede;Or with thy rapyer end my life,Ere further shame proceede.[335]

Alacke! my beauteous love, quoth hee,[336]My joye, and only dear;[337]50Which way can I convay thee hence,[338]When dangers are so near?[339]Thy friends are all of hye degree,[340]And I of meane estate;Full hard it is to gett thee forthe[341]55Out of thy fathers gate.[342]

Dread not thy life to save my fame,[343]For if thou taken bee,[344]My selfe will step betweene the swords,[345]And take the harme on mee:[346]60Soe shall I scape dishonor quite;[347]And if I should be slaine[348]What could they say, but that true loveHad wrought a ladyes bane.[349]

But feare not any further harme;65My selfe will soe devise,That I will ryde away with thee[350]Unknowen of mortall eyes:Disguised like some pretty pageIle meete thee in the darke,70And all alone Ile come to theeHard by my fathers parke.

And there, quoth hee, Ile meete my deareIf God soe lend me life,On this day month without all fayle75I will make thee my wife.[351]Then with a sweet and loving kisse,[352]They parted presentlye,And att their partinge brinish tearesStoode in eche others eye,80

Att length the wished day was come,[353]On which this beauteous mayd,With longing eyes, and strange attire,For her true lover stayd.When any person shee espyed[354]85Come ryding ore the plaine,[355]She hop'd it was her owne true love:[356]But all her hopes were vaine.

Then did shee weepe and sore bewayleHer most unhappy fate;90Then did shee speake these woefull words,As succourless she sate;[357]O false, forsworne, and faithlesse man,[358]Disloyall in thy love,Hast thou forgott thy promise past,95And wilt thou perjured prove?

And hast thou now forsaken meeIn this my great distresse,To end my dayes in open shame,[359]Which thou mightst well redresse?[360]100Woe worth the time I eer believ'd[361]That flattering tongue of thine:Wold God that I had never seeneThe teares of thy false eyne.

And thus with many a sorrowful sigh,[362]105Homewards shee went againe;[363]Noe rest came in her waterye eyes,Shee felt such privye paine.[364]In travail strong shee fell that night,With many a bitter throwe;[365]110What woefull paines shee then did feel,[366]Doth eche good woman knowe.

Shee called up her waiting mayd,[367]That lay at her bedds feete,[368]Who musing at her mistress woe,[369]115Began full fast to weepe.Weepe not, said shee, but shutt the dores,[370]And windowes round about,[371]Let none bewray my wretched state,But keepe all persons out.120

O mistress, call your mother deare;Of women you have neede,And of some skilfull midwifes helpe,[372]That better may you speed.[373]Call not my mother for thy life,125Nor fetch no woman here;The midwives helpe comes all too late,My death I doe not feare.

With that the babe sprang from her wombeNo creature being nye,[374]130And with one sighe, which brake her hart,This gentle dame did dye.[375]The lovely litle infant younge,[376][The mother being dead,][377]Resigned its new received breath,135To him that had it made.

Next morning came her own true love,Affrighted at the newes,[378]And he for sorrow slew himselfe,Whom eche one did accuse.140The mother with her new borne babe,Were laide both in one grave:Their parents overworne with woe,No joy thenceforth cold have.[379]

Take heed, you dayntye damsells all,145Of flattering words beware,And to the honour of your nameHave an especial care.[380][Too true, alas! this story is,[381]As many one can tell:[381]150By others harmes learne to be wise,[381]And you shall do full well.][381]

FOOTNOTES:[323][Ed. Hales and Furnivall, vol. ii. p. 246.][324][Ver. 15. her faire red cheekes changed color quite.][325][V. 17. and soe with.][326][V. 20. to be conceived.][327][V. 24. none shold. MS.][328][Ver. 29. a ladyes distress.][329][V. 30. your bowe.][330][V. 31. See how I goe with chyld with thee.][331][V. 33. my litle.][332][V. 35. O lett.][333][V. 37-40. not in MS.][334][V. 42. thy wordes.][335][V. 48. lest further.][336][V. 49. my derest.][337][V. 50. my greatest joy on earthe.][338][V. 51. shold I convay you.][339][V. 52. to scape a sudden death.][340][Ver. 53. your friends.][341][V. 55. gett you.][342][V. 56. your ffathers.][343][V. 57. your liffe ... your fame.][344][V. 58. you.][345][V. 59. sword.][346][V. 60. to take ... of thee.][347][V. 61. soe may you.][348][V. 62. if soe you.][349][V. 64. ladyes paine.][350][V. 67. I will safely ryd with thee.][351][V. 76. Ile make the then.][352][V. 77. and with.][353][Ver. 81. wherin this lovely maid.][354][V. 85. if any person shee had spyed.][355][V. 86. came.][356][V. 87. shee thought.][357][V. 92. when succourles.][358][V. 93.andnot in MS.][359][V. 99. in heavinesse.][360][V. 100. which well thou might.][361][V. 101. I did beleeve.][362][V. 105. soe that with many a grievous groane.][363][V. 106. amaine.][364][V. 108. shee found.][365][Ver. 110. thraw.][366][V. 111. shee felt that night.][367][V. 113. mayd.][368][V. 114. who lay.][369][V. 115. and musing at her great woe.][370][V. 117. shee sayth.][371][V. 118. all about.][372][V. 123. and to some.][373][V. 124. the better.][374][V. 130. being by.][375][V. 132. gallant dame.][376][V. 133. litle lovely.][377][V. 134. the pretty smiling babe.][378][Ver. 138. with this newes.][379][V. 144. no joy that they.][380][V. 148. have you a specyall care.][381][V. 149-152. not in MS.]

[323][Ed. Hales and Furnivall, vol. ii. p. 246.]

[324][Ver. 15. her faire red cheekes changed color quite.]

[325][V. 17. and soe with.]

[326][V. 20. to be conceived.]

[327][V. 24. none shold. MS.]

[328][Ver. 29. a ladyes distress.]

[329][V. 30. your bowe.]

[330][V. 31. See how I goe with chyld with thee.]

[331][V. 33. my litle.]

[332][V. 35. O lett.]

[333][V. 37-40. not in MS.]

[334][V. 42. thy wordes.]

[335][V. 48. lest further.]

[336][V. 49. my derest.]

[337][V. 50. my greatest joy on earthe.]

[338][V. 51. shold I convay you.]

[339][V. 52. to scape a sudden death.]

[340][Ver. 53. your friends.]

[341][V. 55. gett you.]

[342][V. 56. your ffathers.]

[343][V. 57. your liffe ... your fame.]

[344][V. 58. you.]

[345][V. 59. sword.]

[346][V. 60. to take ... of thee.]

[347][V. 61. soe may you.]

[348][V. 62. if soe you.]

[349][V. 64. ladyes paine.]

[350][V. 67. I will safely ryd with thee.]

[351][V. 76. Ile make the then.]

[352][V. 77. and with.]

[353][Ver. 81. wherin this lovely maid.]

[354][V. 85. if any person shee had spyed.]

[355][V. 86. came.]

[356][V. 87. shee thought.]

[357][V. 92. when succourles.]

[358][V. 93.andnot in MS.]

[359][V. 99. in heavinesse.]

[360][V. 100. which well thou might.]

[361][V. 101. I did beleeve.]

[362][V. 105. soe that with many a grievous groane.]

[363][V. 106. amaine.]

[364][V. 108. shee found.]

[365][Ver. 110. thraw.]

[366][V. 111. shee felt that night.]

[367][V. 113. mayd.]

[368][V. 114. who lay.]

[369][V. 115. and musing at her great woe.]

[370][V. 117. shee sayth.]

[371][V. 118. all about.]

[372][V. 123. and to some.]

[373][V. 124. the better.]

[374][V. 130. being by.]

[375][V. 132. gallant dame.]

[376][V. 133. litle lovely.]

[377][V. 134. the pretty smiling babe.]

[378][Ver. 138. with this newes.]

[379][V. 144. no joy that they.]

[380][V. 148. have you a specyall care.]

[381][V. 149-152. not in MS.]

A Scottish Song.

Thisis a very ancient song, but we could only give it from a modern copy. Some editions instead of the four last lines in the second stanza have these, which have too much merit to be wholly suppressed:

"Whan cockle shells turn siller bells,And muscles grow on every tree,When frost and snaw sall warm us aw',Than sall my love prove true to me."

See theOrpheus Caledonius, &c.

Arthur's-seat mentioned in ver. 17, is a hill near Edinborough; near the bottom of which is St. Anthony's well.

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