300
BLANCHEFLOUR AND JELLYFLORICE
‘Blancheflour and Jellyflorice,’ Buchan’s Ballads of the North of Scotland, I, 125; Motherwell’s MS., p. 588.
‘Blancheflour and Jellyflorice,’ Buchan’s Ballads of the North of Scotland, I, 125; Motherwell’s MS., p. 588.
A maid who has been some years in a lady’s service aspires to something higher; she seeks and obtains a place with a queen, ‘to sew the seams of silk.’ The queen warns her to keep herself from the young prince, but the pair become familiar, and the queen has her mounted on a wild horse without a bridle, expecting to dispose of her summarily in this way. But the prince takes her from the horse and declares that he will marry her within the month.
Buchan suspects that some “poetaster” has remodelled the story of the romance of Florice and Blancheflour, “modernizing it to suit the climate of his time,” that is, perhaps, turning a princess into a sempstress. The only thing in the romance that is even remotely like what we find in the ballad is that Florice saves Blancheflour from the death which his father had contrived for her in order to part the lovers, and this passage does not occur in the English versions of the romance.
There is a Flemish ballad, so to call it, composed from the romance: Coussemaker, p. 177, No 51, Baecker, Chansons historiques de la Flandre, p. 121; Oude Liedekens in Bladeren, L. van Paemel, Gend, No 17.
1There was a maid, richly arrayd,In robes were rare to see,For seven years and something mairShe servd a gay ladie.2But being fond o a higher place,In service she thought lang;She took her mantle her about,Her coffer by the band.3And as she walkd by the shore-side,As blythe’s a bird on tree,Yet still she gaz’d her round about,To see what she could see.4At last she spied a little castle,That stood near by the sea;She spied it far and drew it near,To that castle went she.5And when she came to that castleShe tirled at the pin,And ready stood a little wee boyTo lat this fair maid in.6‘O who’s the owner of this place,O porter-boy, tell me;’‘This place belongs unto a queenO birth and high degree.’7She put her hand in her pocket,And gae him shillings three:‘O porter, bear my message wellUnto the queen frae me.’8The porter’s gane before the queen,Fell low down on his knee:‘Win up, win up, my porter-boy,What makes this courtesie?’9‘I hae been porter at your yetts,My dame, these years full three,But see a ladie at your yettsThe fairest my eyes did see.’10‘Cast up my yetts baith wide and braid,Lat her come in to me,And I’ll know by her courtesieLord’s daughter if she be.’11When she came in before the queen,Fell low down on her knee:‘Service frae you, my dame the queen,I pray you grant it me.’12‘If that service ye now do want,What station will ye be?Can ye card wool, or spin, fair maid,Or milk the cows to me?’13‘No, I can neither card nor spin,Nor cows I canno milk,But sit into a lady’s bowerAnd sew the seams o silk.’14‘What is your name, ye comely dame?Pray tell this unto me:’‘O Blancheflour, that is my name,Born in a strange countrie.’15‘O keep ye well frae Jellyflorice—My ain dear son is he—When other ladies get a gift,O that ye shall get three.’16It wasna tald into the bowerTill it went thro the ha,That Jellyflorice and BlancheflourWere grown ower great witha.17When the queen’s maids their visits paid,Upo the gude Yule-day,When other ladies got horse to ride,She boud take foot and gae.18The queen she calld her stable-groom,To come to her right seen;Says, Ye’ll take out yon wild waith steedAnd bring him to the green.19‘Ye’ll take the bridle frae his head,The lighters frae his een;Ere she ride three times roun the cross,Her weel-days will be dune.’20Jellyflorice his true-love spy’dAs she rade roun the cross,And thrice he kissd her lovely lips,And took her frae her horse.21‘Gang to your bower, my lily-flower,For a’ my mother’s spite;There’s nae other amang her maids,In whom I take delight.22‘Ye are my jewel, and only ane,Nane’s do you injury;For ere this-day-month come and gangMy wedded wife ye’se be.’
1There was a maid, richly arrayd,In robes were rare to see,For seven years and something mairShe servd a gay ladie.2But being fond o a higher place,In service she thought lang;She took her mantle her about,Her coffer by the band.3And as she walkd by the shore-side,As blythe’s a bird on tree,Yet still she gaz’d her round about,To see what she could see.4At last she spied a little castle,That stood near by the sea;She spied it far and drew it near,To that castle went she.5And when she came to that castleShe tirled at the pin,And ready stood a little wee boyTo lat this fair maid in.6‘O who’s the owner of this place,O porter-boy, tell me;’‘This place belongs unto a queenO birth and high degree.’7She put her hand in her pocket,And gae him shillings three:‘O porter, bear my message wellUnto the queen frae me.’8The porter’s gane before the queen,Fell low down on his knee:‘Win up, win up, my porter-boy,What makes this courtesie?’9‘I hae been porter at your yetts,My dame, these years full three,But see a ladie at your yettsThe fairest my eyes did see.’10‘Cast up my yetts baith wide and braid,Lat her come in to me,And I’ll know by her courtesieLord’s daughter if she be.’11When she came in before the queen,Fell low down on her knee:‘Service frae you, my dame the queen,I pray you grant it me.’12‘If that service ye now do want,What station will ye be?Can ye card wool, or spin, fair maid,Or milk the cows to me?’13‘No, I can neither card nor spin,Nor cows I canno milk,But sit into a lady’s bowerAnd sew the seams o silk.’14‘What is your name, ye comely dame?Pray tell this unto me:’‘O Blancheflour, that is my name,Born in a strange countrie.’15‘O keep ye well frae Jellyflorice—My ain dear son is he—When other ladies get a gift,O that ye shall get three.’16It wasna tald into the bowerTill it went thro the ha,That Jellyflorice and BlancheflourWere grown ower great witha.17When the queen’s maids their visits paid,Upo the gude Yule-day,When other ladies got horse to ride,She boud take foot and gae.18The queen she calld her stable-groom,To come to her right seen;Says, Ye’ll take out yon wild waith steedAnd bring him to the green.19‘Ye’ll take the bridle frae his head,The lighters frae his een;Ere she ride three times roun the cross,Her weel-days will be dune.’20Jellyflorice his true-love spy’dAs she rade roun the cross,And thrice he kissd her lovely lips,And took her frae her horse.21‘Gang to your bower, my lily-flower,For a’ my mother’s spite;There’s nae other amang her maids,In whom I take delight.22‘Ye are my jewel, and only ane,Nane’s do you injury;For ere this-day-month come and gangMy wedded wife ye’se be.’
1There was a maid, richly arrayd,In robes were rare to see,For seven years and something mairShe servd a gay ladie.
1
There was a maid, richly arrayd,
In robes were rare to see,
For seven years and something mair
She servd a gay ladie.
2But being fond o a higher place,In service she thought lang;She took her mantle her about,Her coffer by the band.
2
But being fond o a higher place,
In service she thought lang;
She took her mantle her about,
Her coffer by the band.
3And as she walkd by the shore-side,As blythe’s a bird on tree,Yet still she gaz’d her round about,To see what she could see.
3
And as she walkd by the shore-side,
As blythe’s a bird on tree,
Yet still she gaz’d her round about,
To see what she could see.
4At last she spied a little castle,That stood near by the sea;She spied it far and drew it near,To that castle went she.
4
At last she spied a little castle,
That stood near by the sea;
She spied it far and drew it near,
To that castle went she.
5And when she came to that castleShe tirled at the pin,And ready stood a little wee boyTo lat this fair maid in.
5
And when she came to that castle
She tirled at the pin,
And ready stood a little wee boy
To lat this fair maid in.
6‘O who’s the owner of this place,O porter-boy, tell me;’‘This place belongs unto a queenO birth and high degree.’
6
‘O who’s the owner of this place,
O porter-boy, tell me;’
‘This place belongs unto a queen
O birth and high degree.’
7She put her hand in her pocket,And gae him shillings three:‘O porter, bear my message wellUnto the queen frae me.’
7
She put her hand in her pocket,
And gae him shillings three:
‘O porter, bear my message well
Unto the queen frae me.’
8The porter’s gane before the queen,Fell low down on his knee:‘Win up, win up, my porter-boy,What makes this courtesie?’
8
The porter’s gane before the queen,
Fell low down on his knee:
‘Win up, win up, my porter-boy,
What makes this courtesie?’
9‘I hae been porter at your yetts,My dame, these years full three,But see a ladie at your yettsThe fairest my eyes did see.’
9
‘I hae been porter at your yetts,
My dame, these years full three,
But see a ladie at your yetts
The fairest my eyes did see.’
10‘Cast up my yetts baith wide and braid,Lat her come in to me,And I’ll know by her courtesieLord’s daughter if she be.’
10
‘Cast up my yetts baith wide and braid,
Lat her come in to me,
And I’ll know by her courtesie
Lord’s daughter if she be.’
11When she came in before the queen,Fell low down on her knee:‘Service frae you, my dame the queen,I pray you grant it me.’
11
When she came in before the queen,
Fell low down on her knee:
‘Service frae you, my dame the queen,
I pray you grant it me.’
12‘If that service ye now do want,What station will ye be?Can ye card wool, or spin, fair maid,Or milk the cows to me?’
12
‘If that service ye now do want,
What station will ye be?
Can ye card wool, or spin, fair maid,
Or milk the cows to me?’
13‘No, I can neither card nor spin,Nor cows I canno milk,But sit into a lady’s bowerAnd sew the seams o silk.’
13
‘No, I can neither card nor spin,
Nor cows I canno milk,
But sit into a lady’s bower
And sew the seams o silk.’
14‘What is your name, ye comely dame?Pray tell this unto me:’‘O Blancheflour, that is my name,Born in a strange countrie.’
14
‘What is your name, ye comely dame?
Pray tell this unto me:’
‘O Blancheflour, that is my name,
Born in a strange countrie.’
15‘O keep ye well frae Jellyflorice—My ain dear son is he—When other ladies get a gift,O that ye shall get three.’
15
‘O keep ye well frae Jellyflorice—
My ain dear son is he—
When other ladies get a gift,
O that ye shall get three.’
16It wasna tald into the bowerTill it went thro the ha,That Jellyflorice and BlancheflourWere grown ower great witha.
16
It wasna tald into the bower
Till it went thro the ha,
That Jellyflorice and Blancheflour
Were grown ower great witha.
17When the queen’s maids their visits paid,Upo the gude Yule-day,When other ladies got horse to ride,She boud take foot and gae.
17
When the queen’s maids their visits paid,
Upo the gude Yule-day,
When other ladies got horse to ride,
She boud take foot and gae.
18The queen she calld her stable-groom,To come to her right seen;Says, Ye’ll take out yon wild waith steedAnd bring him to the green.
18
The queen she calld her stable-groom,
To come to her right seen;
Says, Ye’ll take out yon wild waith steed
And bring him to the green.
19‘Ye’ll take the bridle frae his head,The lighters frae his een;Ere she ride three times roun the cross,Her weel-days will be dune.’
19
‘Ye’ll take the bridle frae his head,
The lighters frae his een;
Ere she ride three times roun the cross,
Her weel-days will be dune.’
20Jellyflorice his true-love spy’dAs she rade roun the cross,And thrice he kissd her lovely lips,And took her frae her horse.
20
Jellyflorice his true-love spy’d
As she rade roun the cross,
And thrice he kissd her lovely lips,
And took her frae her horse.
21‘Gang to your bower, my lily-flower,For a’ my mother’s spite;There’s nae other amang her maids,In whom I take delight.
21
‘Gang to your bower, my lily-flower,
For a’ my mother’s spite;
There’s nae other amang her maids,
In whom I take delight.
22‘Ye are my jewel, and only ane,Nane’s do you injury;For ere this-day-month come and gangMy wedded wife ye’se be.’
22
‘Ye are my jewel, and only ane,
Nane’s do you injury;
For ere this-day-month come and gang
My wedded wife ye’se be.’