A.

The maid has the door by the handle,And is wishing them all good-night;Young Karl, that lay a corpse on the bier,Sprang up and held her tight.'Why here's a board and benches,And there's no dead body here;This eve I'll drink my mead and wine,All with my Kirstin dear.'Why here's a board and beds too,And here there's nobody dead;To-morrow will I go to the priest,All with my plighted maid.'

The maid has the door by the handle,And is wishing them all good-night;Young Karl, that lay a corpse on the bier,Sprang up and held her tight.

'Why here's a board and benches,And there's no dead body here;This eve I'll drink my mead and wine,All with my Kirstin dear.

'Why here's a board and beds too,And here there's nobody dead;To-morrow will I go to the priest,All with my plighted maid.'

F, another copy from recent tradition, was published in 1875, in Kristensen's Jyske Folkeviser,II, 213, No 62, 'Vaagestuen.' There is no word of a convent here. The story is made very short. Kirsten's mother says she will be fooled if she goes to the wake. The last stanza, departing from all other copies, says that when Kirsten woke in the morning Karl was off.

G.'Klosterranet,' Levninger,I, 23, No 4 (1780), Danske Viser,IV, 261, No 212, a very second-rate ballad, may have the praise of preserving consistency and conventual discipline. The young lady does not slip out to see her mother without leave asked and had. It is my persuasion that the convent, with its little jest about the poor nuns, is a later invention, and thatCis a blending of two different stories. InG, Herr Morten betroths Proud Adeluds, who is more virtuous than rich. His friends object; her friends do not want spirit, and swear that she shall never be his. Morten's father sends him out of the country, and Adeluds is put into a convent. After nine years Morten returns, and, having rejected an advantageous match proposed by his father, advises with his brother, Herr Nilaus, how to get his true love out of the cloister. The brother's plan is that of the mother and foster-mother in the other versions. Herr Nilaus promises a rich gift if Morten's body may be buried within the cloister. From this point the story is materially the same as inC.

H.A copy, which I have not yet seen, in Rahbek's Læsning i blandede Æmner (or Hesperus),III, 151, 1822 (Bergström).

'Hertugen af Skage,' Danske Viser,II, 191, No 88, has this slight agreement with the foregoing ballads. Voldemar, the king's youngest son, hearing that the duke has a daughter, Hildegerd, that surpasses all maids, seeks her out in a convent in which she has taken refuge, and gets a cold reception. He feigns death, desiring that his bones may repose in the cloister. His bier is carried into the convent church. Hildegerd lights nine candles for him, and expresses compassion for his early death. While she is standing before the altar of the Virgin, Voldemar carries her out of the church by force.

This, says Afzelius, 1814, is one of the commonest ballads inSweden, and is often represented as a drama by young people in country places.A a, 'Herr Carl, eller Klosterrofvet,' Afzelius,I, 179, No 26, new ed. No 24;b, Afzelius, Sago-Häfder, ed. 1851,IV, 106.B, Atterbom, Poetisk Kalender for 1816, p. 63, 'Det Iefvande Liket.'C. Rancken, Några Prof af Folksång, o. s. v., p. 13, No 4. These differ but slightly from DanishD,E. All three conclude with the humorous verses about the nuns, which in Rancken's copy take this rollicking turn:

And all the nuns in the convent they all danced in a ring;'Christ send another such angel, to take us all under his wing!'And all the nuns in the convent, they all danced each her lone;'Christ send another such angel, to take us off every one!'

And all the nuns in the convent they all danced in a ring;'Christ send another such angel, to take us all under his wing!'

And all the nuns in the convent, they all danced each her lone;'Christ send another such angel, to take us off every one!'

Bergström, new Afzelius,II, 131, refers to another version in Gyllenmärs' visbok, p. 191, and to a good copy obtained by himself.

An Icelandic version for the 17th century, which is after the fashion of DanishC,G, is given in Íslenzk Fornkvæði,II, 59, No 40, 'Marteins kviða.' The lover has in all three a troop of armed men in waiting outside of the convent.

Professor Bugge has obtained a version in Norway, which, however, is as to language essentially Danish. (Bergström, as above.)

There is a very gay and pretty south-European ballad, in which the artifice of feigning death is successfully tried by a lover after the failure of other measures.

A.Magyar.Arany and Gyulai,I, 172, No 18, 'Pálbeli Szép Antal;' translated byAigner, Ungarische Volksdichtungen, p. 80, 'Schön Anton.' Handsome Tony tells his mother that he shall die for Helen. The mother says, Not yet. I will build a marvellous mill. The first wheel shall grind out pearls, the middle stone discharge kisses, the third wheel distribute small change. The pretty maids will come to see, and Helen among them. Helen asks her mother's leave to see the mill. "Go not," the mother replies. "They are throwing the net, and a fox will be caught." Tony again says he must die. His mother says, not yet; for she will build an iron bridge; the girls will come to see it, and Helen among them. Helen asks to see the bridge; her mother answers as before. Tony says once more that he shall die for Helen. His mother again rejoins, Not yet. Make believe to be dead; the girls will come to see you, and Helen among them. Helen entreats to be allowed to go to see the handsome young man that has died. Her mother tells her she will never come back. Tony's mother calls to him to get up; the girl he was dying for is even now before the gate, in the court, standing at his feet. "Never," says Helen, "saw I so handsome a dead man,—eyes smiling, mouth tempting kisses, and his feet all ready for a spring." Up he jumped and embraced her.

B.Italian.Ferraro, Canti popolari monferrini, p. 59, No 40, 'Il Genovese.' The Genoese, not obtaining the beautiful daughter of a rich merchant on demand, plants a garden. All the girls come for flowers, except the one desired. He then gives a ball, with thirty-two musicians. All the girls are there, but not the merchant's daughter. He then builds a church, very richly adorned. All the girls come to mass, all but one. Next he sets the bells a ringing, in token of his death. The fair one goes to the window to ask who is dead. The good people ("ra bun-ha gent," in the Danish ballad "det gode folk") tell her that it is her first love, and suggest that she should attend the funeral. She asks her father, who consents if she will not cry. As she was leaving the church, the lover came to life, and called to the priests and friars to stop singing. They went to the high altar to be married.

C.Slovenian.Vraz, Narodne peśni ilirske, p. 93, 'Čudna bolezen' ('Strange Sickness'); translated by Anastasius Grün, Volkslieder aus Krain, p. 36, 'Der Scheintodte.' "Build a church, mother," cries the love-sick youth, "that all who will may hear mass; perhaps my love among them." The mother built a church, one and another came, but not his love. "Dig a well, mother, that those who will may fetch water; perhaps my love among them." The well was dug, one and another came for water, but not his love. "Say I am dead, mother, that those who will may come to pray." Those who wished came, his love first of all. The youth was peeping through the window. "What kind of dead man is this, that stretches his arms for an embrace, and puts out his mouth for a kiss?"

DanishGtranslated by the Rev. J. Johnstone, 'The Robbery of the Nunnery, or, The Abbess Outwitted,' Copenhagen, 1786 (Danske Viser,IV, 366); by Prior,III, 400. SwedishA, by G. Stephens, For. Quar. Rev., 1841,XXVI, 49, and by the Howitts, Lit. and Rom. of Northern Europe,I, 292. EnglishC, by Rosa Warrens, Schottische V. 1., p. 144, No 33.

Kinloch's MSS,I, 53, from the recitation of Mary Barr, Lesmahagow, aged upwards of seventy. May, 1827.

1'Willie, Willie, I'll learn you a wile,'And the sun shines over the valleys and a''How this pretty fair maid ye may beguile.'Amang the blue flowrs and the yellow and a'2'Ye maun lie doun just as ye were dead,And tak your winding-sheet around your head.3'Ye maun gie the bellman his bell-groat,To ring your dead-bell at your lover's yett.'4He lay doun just as he war dead,And took his winding-sheet round his head.5He gied the bellman his bell-groat,To ring his dead-bell at his lover's yett.6'O wha is this that is dead, I hear?''O wha but Willie that loed ye sae dear.'7She is to her father's chamber gone,And on her knees she's fallen down.8'O father, O father, ye maun grant me this;I hope that ye will na tak it amiss.9'That I to Willie's burial should go;For he is dead, full well I do know.'10'Ye'll tak your seven bauld brethren wi thee,And to Willie's burial straucht go ye.'11It's whan she cam to the outmost yett,She made the silver fly round for his sake.12It's whan she cam to the inmost yett,She made the red gowd fly round for his sake.13As she walked frae the court to the parlour there,The pretty corpse syne began for to steer.14He took her by the waist sae neat and sae sma,And threw her atween him and the wa.15'O Willie, O Willie, let me alane this nicht,O let me alane till we're wedded richt.'16'Ye cam unto me baith sae meek and mild,But I'll mak ye gae hame a wedded wife wi child.'

1'Willie, Willie, I'll learn you a wile,'And the sun shines over the valleys and a''How this pretty fair maid ye may beguile.'Amang the blue flowrs and the yellow and a'

2'Ye maun lie doun just as ye were dead,And tak your winding-sheet around your head.

3'Ye maun gie the bellman his bell-groat,To ring your dead-bell at your lover's yett.'

4He lay doun just as he war dead,And took his winding-sheet round his head.

5He gied the bellman his bell-groat,To ring his dead-bell at his lover's yett.

6'O wha is this that is dead, I hear?''O wha but Willie that loed ye sae dear.'

7She is to her father's chamber gone,And on her knees she's fallen down.

8'O father, O father, ye maun grant me this;I hope that ye will na tak it amiss.

9'That I to Willie's burial should go;For he is dead, full well I do know.'

10'Ye'll tak your seven bauld brethren wi thee,And to Willie's burial straucht go ye.'

11It's whan she cam to the outmost yett,She made the silver fly round for his sake.

12It's whan she cam to the inmost yett,She made the red gowd fly round for his sake.

13As she walked frae the court to the parlour there,The pretty corpse syne began for to steer.

14He took her by the waist sae neat and sae sma,And threw her atween him and the wa.

15'O Willie, O Willie, let me alane this nicht,O let me alane till we're wedded richt.'

16'Ye cam unto me baith sae meek and mild,But I'll mak ye gae hame a wedded wife wi child.'

a.Buchan's Ballads of the North of Scotland,I, 185.b.Christie, Traditional Ballad Airs,I, 120.

1'O Willie my son, what makes you sae sad?'As the sun shines over the valley'I lye sarely sick for the love of a maid.'Amang the blue flowers and the yellow2'Were she an heiress or lady sae free,That she will take no pity on thee?3'O Willie, my son, I'll learn you a wile,How this fair maid ye may beguile.4'Ye'll gie the principal bellman a groat,And ye'll gar him cry your dead lyke-wake.'5Then he gae the principal bellman a groat,He bade him cry his dead lyke-wake.6This maiden she stood till she heard it a',And down frae her cheeks the tears did fa.7She is hame to her father's ain bower:'I'll gang to yon lyke-wake ae single hour.'8'Ye must take with you your ain brither John;It's not meet for maidens to venture alone.'9'I'll not take with me my brither John,But I'll gang along, myself all alone.'10When she came to young Willie's yate,His seven brithers were standing thereat.11Then they did conduct her into the ha,Amang the weepers and merry mourners a'.12When she lifted up the covering sae red,With melancholy countenance to look on the dead,13He's taen her in his arms, laid her gainst the wa,Says, 'Lye ye here, fair maid, till day.'14'O spare me, O spare me, but this single night,And let me gang hame a maiden sae bright.'15'Tho all your kin were about your bower,Ye shall not be a maiden ae single hour.16'Fair maid, ye came here without a convoy,But ye shall return wi a horse and a boy.17'Ye came here a maiden sae mild,But ye shall gae hame a wedded wife with child.'

1'O Willie my son, what makes you sae sad?'As the sun shines over the valley'I lye sarely sick for the love of a maid.'Amang the blue flowers and the yellow

2'Were she an heiress or lady sae free,That she will take no pity on thee?

3'O Willie, my son, I'll learn you a wile,How this fair maid ye may beguile.

4'Ye'll gie the principal bellman a groat,And ye'll gar him cry your dead lyke-wake.'

5Then he gae the principal bellman a groat,He bade him cry his dead lyke-wake.

6This maiden she stood till she heard it a',And down frae her cheeks the tears did fa.

7She is hame to her father's ain bower:'I'll gang to yon lyke-wake ae single hour.'

8'Ye must take with you your ain brither John;It's not meet for maidens to venture alone.'

9'I'll not take with me my brither John,But I'll gang along, myself all alone.'

10When she came to young Willie's yate,His seven brithers were standing thereat.

11Then they did conduct her into the ha,Amang the weepers and merry mourners a'.

12When she lifted up the covering sae red,With melancholy countenance to look on the dead,

13He's taen her in his arms, laid her gainst the wa,Says, 'Lye ye here, fair maid, till day.'

14'O spare me, O spare me, but this single night,And let me gang hame a maiden sae bright.'

15'Tho all your kin were about your bower,Ye shall not be a maiden ae single hour.

16'Fair maid, ye came here without a convoy,But ye shall return wi a horse and a boy.

17'Ye came here a maiden sae mild,But ye shall gae hame a wedded wife with child.'

Motherwell's MS., p. 187.

1'O Willie, Willie, what makes thee so sad?'And the sun shines over the valley'I have loved a lady these seven years and mair.'Down amang the blue flowers and the yellow2'O Willie, lie down as thou were dead,And lay thy winding-sheet down at thy head.3'And gie to the bellman a belling-great,To ring the dead-bell at thy love's bower-yett.'4He laid him down as he were dead,And he drew the winding-sheet oer his head.5 He gied to the bellman a belling-great,To ring the dead-bell at his love's bower-yett.* * * * *6When that she came to her true lover's gate,She dealt the red gold and all for his sake.7And when that she came to her true lover's bower,She had not been there for the space of half an hour,8Till that she cam to her true lover's bed,And she lifted the winding-sheet to look at the dead.9He took her by the hand so meek and sma,And he cast her over between him and the wa.10'Tho all your friends were in the bower,I would not let you go for the space of half an hour.11'You came to me without either horse or boy,But I will send you home with a merry convoy.'

1'O Willie, Willie, what makes thee so sad?'And the sun shines over the valley'I have loved a lady these seven years and mair.'Down amang the blue flowers and the yellow

2'O Willie, lie down as thou were dead,And lay thy winding-sheet down at thy head.

3'And gie to the bellman a belling-great,To ring the dead-bell at thy love's bower-yett.'

4He laid him down as he were dead,And he drew the winding-sheet oer his head.

5 He gied to the bellman a belling-great,To ring the dead-bell at his love's bower-yett.

* * * * *

6When that she came to her true lover's gate,She dealt the red gold and all for his sake.

7And when that she came to her true lover's bower,She had not been there for the space of half an hour,

8Till that she cam to her true lover's bed,And she lifted the winding-sheet to look at the dead.

9He took her by the hand so meek and sma,And he cast her over between him and the wa.

10'Tho all your friends were in the bower,I would not let you go for the space of half an hour.

11'You came to me without either horse or boy,But I will send you home with a merry convoy.'

Motherwell's Minstrelsy, Appendix, p. xix, NoXVII.

'O Johnie, dear Johnie, what makes ye sae sad?'As the sun shines ower the valley'I think nae music will mak ye glad.'Amang the blue flowers and the yellow

bisawith stanzas 3, 12-15 omitted, and"a few alterations,someof them given from the recitation of an old woman." "Buchan's version differs little from the way the old woman sang the ballad."The old woman's variations, so far as adopted, are certainly of the most trifling.12. I am.21. Is she.71. And she.161. Ye've come.164. And ye.17.Evidently by Christie:

12. I am.

21. Is she.

71. And she.

161. Ye've come.

164. And ye.

17.Evidently by Christie:

'Fair maid, I love thee as my life,But ye shall gae hame a lovd wedded wife.'

Burden. The lines are transposed in the second stanza, but are given in the third in the order of the first.31, 51.MS.belling great.112. you come.

Burden. The lines are transposed in the second stanza, but are given in the third in the order of the first.

31, 51.MS.belling great.

112. you come.

FOOTNOTES:[208]Butahas two stanzas more: the first a stev-stamme, or lyrical introduction (see p. 7), the other, 31, nearly a repetition of Sandvig's 29.[209]After the page has bidden Ingerlille to the wake, we are told,a27, 28,b26, 27: all the convent bells were going, and the tidings spreading that the knight was dead; all the ladies of the convent sat sewing, except Ingerlille, who wept. But Ingerlille, in the next stanza, puts on her scarlet cloak and goes to the höjeloft to see her father and mother. The two stanzas quoted signify nothing in this version.

[208]Butahas two stanzas more: the first a stev-stamme, or lyrical introduction (see p. 7), the other, 31, nearly a repetition of Sandvig's 29.

[209]After the page has bidden Ingerlille to the wake, we are told,a27, 28,b26, 27: all the convent bells were going, and the tidings spreading that the knight was dead; all the ladies of the convent sat sewing, except Ingerlille, who wept. But Ingerlille, in the next stanza, puts on her scarlet cloak and goes to the höjeloft to see her father and mother. The two stanzas quoted signify nothing in this version.

a.Melismata. Musicall Phansies. Fitting the Court, Cittie, and Countrey Humours. London, 1611, No 20.[210][T. Ravenscroft.]b.'The Three Ravens,' Motherwell's Minstrelsy, Appendix, p. xviii, NoXII.

a.Melismata. Musicall Phansies. Fitting the Court, Cittie, and Countrey Humours. London, 1611, No 20.[210][T. Ravenscroft.]

b.'The Three Ravens,' Motherwell's Minstrelsy, Appendix, p. xviii, NoXII.

awas printed from Melismata, by Ritson, in his Ancient Songs, 1790, p. 155. Mr. Chappell remarked, about 1855, Popular Music of the Olden Time,I, 59, that this ballad was still so popular in some parts of the country that he had "been favored with a variety of copies of it, written down from memory, and all differing in some respects, both as to words and tune, but with sufficient resemblance to prove a similar origin." Motherwell, Minstrelsy, Introduction, p. lxxvii, note 49, says he had met with several copies almost the same asa.bis the first stanza of one of these (traditional) versions, "very popular in Scotland."

The following verses, first printed in the Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border, and known in several versions in Scotland, are treated by Motherwell and others as a traditionary form of 'The Three Ravens.' They are, however, as Scott says, "rather a counterpart than a copy of the other," and sound something like a cynical variation of the tender little English ballad. Dr Rimbault (Notes and Queries, Ser.V,III, 518) speaks of unprinted copies taken down by Mr Blaikie and by Mr Thomas Lyle of Airth.

a.Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border,III, 239, ed. 1803, communicated by C. K. Sharpe, as written down from tradition by a lady.b.Albyn's Anthology,II, 27, 1818, "from the singing of Mr Thomas Shortreed, of Jedburgh, as sung and recited by his mother."c.Chambers's Scottish Ballads, p. 283, partly from recitation and partly from the Border Minstrelsy.d.Fraser-Tytler MS., p. 70.

1As I was walking all alane,I heard twa corbies making a mane;The tane unto the t'other say,'Where sall we gang and dine to-day?'2'In behint yon auld fail dyke,I wot there lies a new slain knight;And naebody kens that he lies there,But his hawk, his hound, and lady fair.3'His hound is to the hunting gane,His hawk to fetch the wild-fowl hame,His lady's ta'en another mate,So we may mak our dinner sweet.4'Ye'll sit on his white hause-bane,And I'll pike out his bonny blue een;Wi ae lock o his gowden hairWe' theek our nest when it grows bare.5'Mony a one for him makes mane,But nane sall ken where he is gane;Oer his white banes, when they are bare,The wind sall blaw for evermair.'

1As I was walking all alane,I heard twa corbies making a mane;The tane unto the t'other say,'Where sall we gang and dine to-day?'

2'In behint yon auld fail dyke,I wot there lies a new slain knight;And naebody kens that he lies there,But his hawk, his hound, and lady fair.

3'His hound is to the hunting gane,His hawk to fetch the wild-fowl hame,His lady's ta'en another mate,So we may mak our dinner sweet.

4'Ye'll sit on his white hause-bane,And I'll pike out his bonny blue een;Wi ae lock o his gowden hairWe' theek our nest when it grows bare.

5'Mony a one for him makes mane,But nane sall ken where he is gane;Oer his white banes, when they are bare,The wind sall blaw for evermair.'

'The Three Ravens' is translated by Grundtvig, Engelske og skotske Folkeviser, p. 145, No 23; by Henrietta Schubart, p. 155; Gerhard, p. 95; Rosa Warrens, Schottische V. l. der Vorzeit, p. 198; Wolff, Halle der Völker,I, 12, Hausschatz, p. 205.

'The Twa Corbies' (Scott), by Grundtvig, p. 143, No 22; Arndt, p. 224; Gerhard, p. 94; Schubart, p. 157; Knortz, L. u. R. Alt-Englands, p. 194; Rosa Warrens, p. 89. The three first stanzas, a little freely rendered into four, pass for Pushkin's: Works, 1855,II, 462, xxiv.

1There were three rauens sat on a tree,Downe a downe, hay down, hay downeThere were three rauens sat on a tree,With a downeThere were three rauens sat on a tree,They were as blacke as they might be.With a downe derrie, derrie, derrie, downe, downe2The one of them said to his mate,'Where shall we our breakefast take?'3'Downe in yonder greene field,There lies a knight slain vnder his shield.4'His hounds they lie downe at his feete,So well they can their master keepe.5'His haukes they flie so eagerly,There's no fowle dare him come nie.'6Downe there comes a fallow doe,As great with yong as she might goe.7She lift vp his bloudy hed,And kist his wounds that were so red.8She got him vp vpon her backe,And carried him to earthen lake.9She buried him before the prime,She was dead herselfe ere euen-song time.10God send euery gentleman,Such haukes, such hounds, and such a leman.

2The one of them said to his mate,'Where shall we our breakefast take?'

3'Downe in yonder greene field,There lies a knight slain vnder his shield.

4'His hounds they lie downe at his feete,So well they can their master keepe.

5'His haukes they flie so eagerly,There's no fowle dare him come nie.'

6Downe there comes a fallow doe,As great with yong as she might goe.

7She lift vp his bloudy hed,And kist his wounds that were so red.

8She got him vp vpon her backe,And carried him to earthen lake.

9She buried him before the prime,She was dead herselfe ere euen-song time.

10God send euery gentleman,Such haukes, such hounds, and such a leman.

Three ravens sat upon a tree,Hey down, hey derry dayThree ravens sat upon a tree,Hey downThree ravens sat upon a tree,And they were black as black could be.And sing lay doo and la doo and day

Variations of The Twa Corbies.

1.As I cam by yon auld house end,I saw twa corbies sittin thereon.

21. Whare but by yon new fa'en birk.

3.We'll sit upon his bonny breast-bane,And we'll pick out his bonny gray een;We'll set our claws intil his yallow hair,And big our bowr, it's a' blawn bare.4.My mother clekit me o an egg,And brought me up i the feathers gray,And bade me flee whereer I wad,For winter wad be my dying day.5.Now winter it is come and past,And a' the birds are biggin their nests,But I'll flee high aboon them a',And sing a sang for summer's sake.

3.We'll sit upon his bonny breast-bane,And we'll pick out his bonny gray een;We'll set our claws intil his yallow hair,And big our bowr, it's a' blawn bare.

4.My mother clekit me o an egg,And brought me up i the feathers gray,And bade me flee whereer I wad,For winter wad be my dying day.

5.Now winter it is come and past,And a' the birds are biggin their nests,But I'll flee high aboon them a',And sing a sang for summer's sake.

1.As I gaed doun by yon hous-en,Twa corbies there were sittand their lane.

21. O down beside yon new-faun birk.31. His horse.32. His hounds to bring the wild deer hame.

21. O down beside yon new-faun birk.

31. His horse.

32. His hounds to bring the wild deer hame.

4.O we'll sit on his bonnie breist-bane,And we'll pyke out his bonnie grey een.

11. walking forth.12. the ither.13. we twa dine.32. wild bird.52. naebody kens.53. when we've laid them bare.54. win may blaw.

11. walking forth.

12. the ither.

13. we twa dine.

32. wild bird.

52. naebody kens.

53. when we've laid them bare.

54. win may blaw.

FOOTNOTES:[210]Misprinted 22.

[210]Misprinted 22.

a.Motherwell's MS., p. 191.b.Motherwell's Minstrelsy, Appendix, p. xvi, NoIII.

This ballad, if it ever were one, seems not to have been met with, or at least to have been thought worth notice, by anybody but Motherwell. As already observed in the preface to 'Hind Horn,' stanza 2 seems to have slipped into that ballad, in consequence of the resemblance of stanza 1 toF2,H3 of 'Hind Horn.' This first stanza is, however, a commonplace in English and elsewhere: e. g., 'The Squire of Low Degree:'

He served the kyng, her father dere,Fully the tyme of seven yere. vv 5, 6.He loved her more then seven yere,Yet was he of her love never the nere. vv 17, 18.

He served the kyng, her father dere,Fully the tyme of seven yere. vv 5, 6.

He loved her more then seven yere,Yet was he of her love never the nere. vv 17, 18.

Ritson, Met. Rom.III, 145 f.

1Seven lang years I hae served the king,Fa fa fa fa lillyAnd I never got a sight of his daughter but ane.With my glimpy, glimpy, glimpy eedle,Lillum too tee a ta too a tee a ta a tally2I saw her thro a whummil bore,And I neer got a sight of her no more.3Twa was putting on her gown,And ten was putting pins therein.4Twa was putting on her shoon,And twa was buckling them again.5Five was combing down her hair,And I never got a sight of her nae mair.6Her neck and breast was like the snow,Then from the bore I was forced to go.

1Seven lang years I hae served the king,Fa fa fa fa lillyAnd I never got a sight of his daughter but ane.With my glimpy, glimpy, glimpy eedle,Lillum too tee a ta too a tee a ta a tally

2I saw her thro a whummil bore,And I neer got a sight of her no more.

3Twa was putting on her gown,And ten was putting pins therein.

4Twa was putting on her shoon,And twa was buckling them again.

5Five was combing down her hair,And I never got a sight of her nae mair.

6Her neck and breast was like the snow,Then from the bore I was forced to go.

22.Variation: And she was washing in a pond.62.Variation: Ye might have tied me with a strae.

22.Variation: And she was washing in a pond.

62.Variation: Ye might have tied me with a strae.

Burden:

Fa, fa, falillyWith my glimpy, glimpy, glimpy eedle,Lillum too a tee too a tally.

Maidment's North Countrie Garland, 1824, p. 21. Communicated by R. Pitcairn, "from the recitation of a female relative, who had heard it frequently sung in her childhood," about sixty years before the above date.

Motherwell informs us, Minstrelsy, p. xciv of Introduction, note to 141, that 'Burd Helen and Young Tamlene' is very popular, and that various sets of it are to be found traditionally current (1827). Still I have not found it, out of Maidment's little book; not even in Motherwell's large folio.

I cannot connect this fragment with what is elsewhere handed down concerning Tamlane, or with the story of any other ballad.

1Burd Ellen sits in her bower windowe,With a double laddy double, and for the double dowTwisting the red silk and the blue.With the double rose and the May-hay2And whiles she twisted, and whiles she twan,And whiles the tears fell down amang.3Till once there by cam Young Tamlane:'Come light, oh light, and rock your young son.'4'If you winna rock him, you may let him rair,For I hae rockit my share and mair.'* * * * *5Young Tamlane to the seas he's gane,And a' women's curse in his company's gane.

1Burd Ellen sits in her bower windowe,With a double laddy double, and for the double dowTwisting the red silk and the blue.With the double rose and the May-hay

2And whiles she twisted, and whiles she twan,And whiles the tears fell down amang.

3Till once there by cam Young Tamlane:'Come light, oh light, and rock your young son.'

4'If you winna rock him, you may let him rair,For I hae rockit my share and mair.'

* * * * *

5Young Tamlane to the seas he's gane,And a' women's curse in his company's gane.

Percy MS., p. 284. Hales & Furnivall, II, 304.

This ballad and the two which follow it are clearly not of the same rise, and not meant for the same ears, as those which go before. They would come down by professional rather than by domestic tradition, through minstrels rather than knitters and weavers. They suit the hall better than the bower, the tavern or public square better than the cottage, and would not go to the spinning-wheel at all. An exceedingly good piece of minstrelsy 'The Boy and the Mantle' is, too; much livelier than most of the numerous variations on the somewhat overhandled theme.[211]

Of these, as nearest related, the fabliau or "romance" of Le Mantel Mautaillié, 'Cort Mantel,' must be put first: Montaiglon et Raynaud, Recueil Général des Fabliaux, III, 1, from four manuscripts, three of the thirteenth century, one of the fourteenth; and previously by Michel, from the three older manuscripts, in Wolf, Ueber die Lais, p. 324. A rendering of the fabliau in prose, existing in a single manuscript, was several times printed in the sixteenth century: given in Legrand, ed. Renouard, I, 126, and before, somewhat modernized, by Caylus, 'Les Manteaux,' Œuvres Badines, VI, 435.[212]

The story in 'Cort Mantel' goes thus. Arthur was holding full court at Pentecost, never more splendidly. Not only kings, dukes, and counts were there, but the attendance of all young bachelors had been commanded, and he that had abele amiewas to bring her. The court assembled on Saturday, and on Sunday all the world went to church. After service the queen took the ladies to her apartments, till dinner should be ready. But it was Arthur's wont not to dine that day until he had had or heard of some adventure;[213]dinner was kept waiting; and it was therefore with greatsatisfaction that the knights saw a handsome and courteous varlet arrive, who must certainly bring news; news that was not to be good to all, though some would be pleased (cf. stanza 5 of the ballad). A maid had sent him from a very distant country to ask a boon of the king. He was not to name the boon or the lady till he had the king's promise; but what he asked was no harm. The king having said that he would grant what was asked, the varlet took from a bag a beautiful mantle, of fairy workmanship. This mantle would fit no dame or damsel who had in any way misbehaved towards husband or lover; it would be too short or too long; and the boon was that the king should require all the ladies of the court to put it on.

The ladies were still waiting dinner, unconscious of what was coming. Gawain was sent to require their presence, and he simply told them that the magnificent mantle was to be given to the one it best fitted. The king repeated the assurance, and the queen, who wished much to win the mantle, was the first to try it on. It proved too short. Ywain suggested that a young lady who stood near the queen should try. This she readily did, and what was short before was shorter still. Kay, who had been making his comments unguardedly, now divulged the secret, and after that nobody cared to have to do with the mantle. The king said, We may as well give it back; but the varlet insisted on having the king's promise. There was general consternation and bad humor.

Kay called his mistress, and very confidently urged her to put on the mantle. She demurred, on the ground that she might give offence by forwardness; but this roused suspicion in Kay, and she had no resource but to go on. The mantle was again lamentably short. Bruns and Ydier let loose some gibes. Kay bade them wait; he had hopes for them. Gawain'samienext underwent the test, then Ywain's, then Perceval's. Still a sad disappointment. Many were the curses on the mantle that would fit nobody, and on him that brought it. Kay takes the unlucky ladies, one after the other, to sit with his mistress.

At this juncture Kay proposes that they shall have dinner, and continue the experiment by and by. The varlet is relentless; but Kay has the pleasure of seeing Ydier discomfited. And so they go on through the whole court, till the varlet says that he fears he shall be obliged to carry his mantle away with him. But first let the chambers be searched; some one may be in hiding who may save the credit of the court. The king orders a search, and they find one lady, not in hiding, but in her bed, because she is not well. Being told that she must come, she presents herself as soon as she can dress, greatly to the vexation of her lover, whose name is Carados Briebras. The varlet explains to her the quality of the mantle, and Carados, in verses very honorable to his heart, begs that she will not put it on if she has any misgivings.[214]The lady says very meekly that she dare not boast being better than other people, but, if it so please her lord, she will willingly don the mantle. This she does, and in sight of all the barons it is neither too short nor too long. "It was well we sent for her," says the varlet. "Lady, your lover ought to be delighted. I have carried this mantle to many courts, and of more than a thousand who have put it on you are the only one that has escaped disgrace. I give it to you, and well you deserve it." The king confirms the gift, and no one can gainsay.

A Norse prose translation of the French fabliau was executed by order of the Norwegian king, Hákon Hákonarson, whose reign covers the years 1217-63. Of this translation, 'Möttuls Saga,' a fragment has come down which is as old as 1300; there are also portions of a manuscript which is assigned to about 1400, and two transcripts of this latter, made when it was complete, besides other lessimportant copies. This translation, which is reasonably close and was made from a good exemplar, has been most excellently edited by Messrs Cederschiöld and Wulff, Versions nordiques du Fabliau Le Mantel Mautaillié, Lund, 1877, p. 1.[215]It presents no divergences from the story as just given which are material here.

Not so with the 'Skikkju Rímur,' or Mantle Rhymes, an Icelandic composition of the fifteenth century, in three parts, embracing in all one hundred and eighty-five four-line stanzas: Cederschiöld and Wulff, p. 51. In these the story is told with additions, which occur partially in our ballad. The mantle is of white velvet. Three elf-women had been not less than fifteen years in weaving it, and it seemed both yellow and gray, green and black, red and blue:II, 22, 23, 26. Our English minstrel describes these variations of color as occurring after Guenever had put the mantle on: stanzas 11, 12. Again, there are among the Pentecostal guests a king and queen of Dwarf Land; a beardless king of Small-Maids Land, with a queen eight years old; and a King Felix, three hundred years old, with a beard to the crotch, and a wife, tall and fat, to whom he has been two centuries married,—all these severally attended by generous retinues of pigmies, juveniles, and seniors:I, 28-35;III, 41. Felix is of course the prototype of the old knight pattering over a creed in stanzas 21-24 of the ballad, and he will have his representative in several other pieces presently to be spoken of. In the end Arthur sends all the ladies from his court in disgrace, and his knights to the wars; we will get better wives, he says:III, 74, 75.

The land of Small-Maids and the long-lived race are mentioned in a brief geographical chapter (the thirteenth) of that singular gallimaufry the saga of Samson the Fair, but not in connection with a probation by the mantle, though this saga has appropriated portions of the story. Here the mantle is one which four fairies have worked at for eighteen years, as a penalty for stealing from the fleece of a very remarkable ram; and it is of this same fleece, described as being of all hues, gold, silk,ok kolors, that the mantle is woven. It would hold off from an unchaste woman and fall off from a thief. Quintalin, to ransom his life, undertakes to get the mantle for Samson. Its virtue is tried at two weddings, the second being Samson's; and on this last occasion Valentina, Samson's bride, is the only woman who can put it on. The mantle is given to Valentina, as in the fabliau to Carados's wife, but nevertheless we hear later of its being presented by Samson to another lady, who, a good while after, was robbed of the same by a pirate, and the mantle carried to Africa. From Africa it was sent to our Arthur by a lady named Elida, "and hence the saga of the mantle."[216]Björner, Nordiska Kämpa Dater, cc 12, 14, 15, 21, 22, 24.

There is also an incomplete German version of the fabliau, now credibly shown to be the work of Heinrich von dem Türlin, dating from the earliest years of the thirteenth century.[217]Though the author has dealt freely with his original, there are indications thatthis, like the Möttulssaga, was founded upon some version of the fabliau which is not now extant. One of these is an agreement between vv 574-6 and the sixth stanza of our ballad. The mantle, in English, is enclosed between two nut-shells;[218]in German, the bag from which it is taken is hardly a span wide. In the Möttulssaga, p. 9, l. 6, the mantle comes from a púss, a small bag hanging on the belt; in Ulrich von Zatzikhoven's Lanzelet, from ein mæzigez teschelîn, and in the latter case the mantle instantaneously expands to full size (Warnatsch); it is also of all colors known to man, vv 5807-19. Again, when Guenever had put on the mantle, st. 10 of our ballad, "it was from the top to the toe as sheeres had itt shread." So in 'Der Mantel,' vv 732, 733:

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