FRAGMENTS

“Dispersed thro Shakspere’s plays are innumerable little fragments of ancient ballads, the entire copies of which could not be recovered,” says Bishop Percy in his preface to ‘The Friar of Orders Gray.’ What he says of Shakspere is equally true of Beaumont and Fletcher, but it is not true, in either case, that there are many fragments of popular traditional ballads. Portions of ballads of one kind or another, and still more of songs, are introduced into the plays of these authors, though not so frequently as one would suppose from Percy’s words. Ten of the twenty-eight stanzas of ‘The Friar of Orders Gray’ are taken, mostly in part only, from Shakspere and Fletcher,[117]but the original verses are from songs, not properly from ballads. It is not, however, always easy to say whether an isolated stanza belonged to a ballad or a song. Some snatches from familiar ballads, which occur in Beaumont and Fletcher, have already been given at the proper places. A few bits from unknown pieces, which occur in Shakspere, or Beaumont and Fletcher (strictly, perhaps, Fletcher), will be given here. It is surprising that other dramatists have not furnished something.

A very meagre gathering of fragments from other sources follows those which have been gleaned from the dramatists, but it must be once more said that there is not an absolute certainty that all of these belong to ballads.

Some popular tales are interspersed with verses of a ballad character, and one or two cases have been incidentally noted already. Examples are ‘The Paddo,’ Chambers’s Popular Rhymes of Scotland, 1870, p. 87;[118]‘The Red Etin,’ib.p. 89; ‘The Black Bull of Norroway,’ib.p. 95; ‘Child Rowland and Burd Ellen,’ Illustrations of Northern Antiquities, p. 397;[119]‘The Golden Ball,’ see No 95,H, II, 353-55.

From King Lear, Act iii, sc. 4, printed 1608.

Child Rowland to the darke tower came.His word was still, Fy, fo, and fumme!I smell the bloud of a British man.

Child Rowland to the darke tower came.

His word was still, Fy, fo, and fumme!

I smell the bloud of a British man.

1.So1623:both quartos, darke towne come.

Act iii, sc. 6.

Sleepest or wakest thou, jolly shepheard?Thy sheepe bee in the corne;And for one blast of thy minikin mouthThy sheepe shall take no harme.

Sleepest or wakest thou, jolly shepheard?

Thy sheepe bee in the corne;

And for one blast of thy minikin mouth

Thy sheepe shall take no harme.

From The Taming of the Shrew, Act iv, sc. 1, printed 1623, I, 221.

It was the friar of orders gray,As he forth walked on his way.

It was the friar of orders gray,

As he forth walked on his way.

From The Knight of the Burning Pestle, produced apparently in 1611, Act ii, sc. 8; Dyce, II, 173.

She cares not for her daddy,Nor she cares not for her mammy,For she is, she is, she is, she isMy lord of Lowgave’s lassy.

She cares not for her daddy,

Nor she cares not for her mammy,

For she is, she is, she is, she is

My lord of Lowgave’s lassy.

(Perhaps only a song.)

Give him flowers enow, palmer, give him flowers enow,Give him red and white, and blue, green, and yellow.

Give him flowers enow, palmer, give him flowers enow,

Give him red and white, and blue, green, and yellow.

Act v, sc. iii; Dyce, p. 226.

With that came out his paramour,She was as white as the lily-flower.Hey, troul, troly, lolyWith that came out her own dear knight,He was as true as ever did fight.

With that came out his paramour,She was as white as the lily-flower.Hey, troul, troly, loly

With that came out his paramour,

She was as white as the lily-flower.

Hey, troul, troly, loly

With that came out her own dear knight,He was as true as ever did fight.

With that came out her own dear knight,

He was as true as ever did fight.

From Bonduca, produced before March, 1619: Act v, sc. 2, Dyce, V, 88.

It was an old tale, ten thousand times told,Of a young lady was turnd into mould,Her life it was lovely, her death it was bold.

It was an old tale, ten thousand times told,

Of a young lady was turnd into mould,

Her life it was lovely, her death it was bold.

From The Two Noble Kinsmen, printed in 1634, Act iii, sc. 4; Dyce, XI, 383.

For I’ll cut my green coat a foot above my knee,And I’ll clip my yellow locks an inch below mine ee.Hey, nonny, nonny, nonnyHe’s buy me a white cut, forth for to ride,And I’ll go seek him through the world that is so wide.Hey, nonny, nonny, nonny

For I’ll cut my green coat a foot above my knee,And I’ll clip my yellow locks an inch below mine ee.Hey, nonny, nonny, nonny

For I’ll cut my green coat a foot above my knee,

And I’ll clip my yellow locks an inch below mine ee.

Hey, nonny, nonny, nonny

He’s buy me a white cut, forth for to ride,And I’ll go seek him through the world that is so wide.Hey, nonny, nonny, nonny

He’s buy me a white cut, forth for to ride,

And I’ll go seek him through the world that is so wide.

Hey, nonny, nonny, nonny

The Complaynt of Scotland, 1549, gives two lines of a song on the murder, in 1517, of the Sieur de la Bastie, a distinguished knight in the service of the Regent, Duke of Albany. The song may, or may not, have been a ballad.

God sen the Duc hed byddin in France,And Delabautë hed neuyr cum hame.

God sen the Duc hed byddin in France,

And Delabautë hed neuyr cum hame.

ed. Leyden, p. 100.

The History of the Houses of Douglas and Angus, written by Master David Hume of Godscroft, p. 155, Edinburgh, 1644.

Of the treacherous execution of William, sixth Earl of Douglas, at the castle of Edinburgh, in 1440, Hume of Godscroft says: “It is sure the people did abhorre it, execrating the very place where it was done; in detestation of the fact of which the memory remaineth yet to our dayes in these words.” Since Hume mentions no ballad, it is not likely that he knew of more than this single stanza, or that more existed. (Sir Walter Scott, however, confidently assumes that there was a ballad. Minstrelsy, 1833, I, 221 f.)

Edinburgh castle, towne, and tower,God grant thou sinke for sinne!And that even for the black dinnerEarle Douglas got therein.

Edinburgh castle, towne, and tower,

God grant thou sinke for sinne!

And that even for the black dinner

Earle Douglas got therein.

Written on the fly-leaf of a little volume printed at Edinburgh about 1670 (Quevedo’s Novels), Laing MSS, University of Edinburgh, Div. II, 358. (Communicated by Mr Macmath.)

‘He steps full statly on yestre[et],He hads yecharters of him sell,In to his cloathing he is compl[ete],In Craford’s mure he bears yebell.‘I wish I had died my own fai[r] death,In tender age, qnI was young;I would never have broke my heartFor yelove of any churl’s son.‘Wo be to my parents all,Ytlives so farr beyond yesea!I might have lived a noble life,And wedded in my own countrë.’

‘He steps full statly on yestre[et],He hads yecharters of him sell,In to his cloathing he is compl[ete],In Craford’s mure he bears yebell.

‘He steps full statly on yestre[et],

He hads yecharters of him sell,

In to his cloathing he is compl[ete],

In Craford’s mure he bears yebell.

‘I wish I had died my own fai[r] death,In tender age, qnI was young;I would never have broke my heartFor yelove of any churl’s son.

‘I wish I had died my own fai[r] death,

In tender age, qnI was young;

I would never have broke my heart

For yelove of any churl’s son.

‘Wo be to my parents all,Ytlives so farr beyond yesea!I might have lived a noble life,And wedded in my own countrë.’

‘Wo be to my parents all,

Ytlives so farr beyond yesea!

I might have lived a noble life,

And wedded in my own countrë.’

Finlay’s Scottish Ballads, I, xxxii.

A “romantic ballad, of which, unfortunately, one stanza only has been preserved. The tradition bears that a young lady was carried away by the fairies, and that, although invisible to her friends who were in search of her, she was sometimes heard by them lamenting her destiny in a pathetic song, of which the stanza just mentioned runs nearly thus:”

O Alva hills is bonny,Dalycoutry hills is fair,But to think on the braes of MenstrieIt maks my heart fu sair.

O Alva hills is bonny,

Dalycoutry hills is fair,

But to think on the braes of Menstrie

It maks my heart fu sair.

Sent by Motherwell to C. K. Sharpe, with a letter dated October 8, 1825. Also entered in Motherwell’s Note-Book, p. 53 (excepting the second line of the first stanza).

King Edelbrode cam owre the sea,Fa la lillyAll for to marry a gay ladye.Fa la lilly.

King Edelbrode cam owre the sea,

Fa la lilly

All for to marry a gay ladye.

Fa la lilly.

(Then follows the description of a queen, jimp and sma, not remembered.)

Her lilly hands, sae white and sma,Fa la lillyWi gouden rings were buskit braw.Fa la lilly

Her lilly hands, sae white and sma,

Fa la lilly

Wi gouden rings were buskit braw.

Fa la lilly

“I cannot get any precise account of its subject, but it related somehow to a most magnificent marriage. The old lady who sung it died some years ago.” (Letter to Sharpe.)

“It may be the same ballad as the scrap I have, with something of a similar chorus.” (Note-Book, where the “chorus” is Fa fa lilly.)

The reference seems to be to ‘The Whummil Bore,’ No 27, I, 255.

C. K. Sharpe’s Letters, ed. Allardyce, II, 106 (1813).

‘O come you from the earth?’ she said,‘Or come you from the skye?’‘Oh, I am from yonder churchyard,Where my crumbling relicks lie.’

‘O come you from the earth?’ she said,

‘Or come you from the skye?’

‘Oh, I am from yonder churchyard,

Where my crumbling relicks lie.’

Sharpe somewhere asks, Where does this belong?

Possibly in some version of ‘Proud Lady Margaret,’ No 47, II, 425.

MS. of Thomas Wilkie, p. 79, “Scotch Ballads, Materials for Border Minstrelsy,” No 73 a, Abbotsford.

The great bull of Bendy-lawHas broken his band and run awa,And the king and a’ his courtCanna turn that bull about.

The great bull of Bendy-law

Has broken his band and run awa,

And the king and a’ his court

Canna turn that bull about.

“Scotch Ballads, Materials for Border Minstrelsy,” No 86 a, Abbotsford, in the handwriting of Thomas Wilkie.

Red-Cap he was there,And he was there indeed,And he was standing by,With a red cap on his head.

Red-Cap he was there,

And he was there indeed,

And he was standing by,

With a red cap on his head.

“Scotch Ballads, Materials for Border Minstrelsy,” No 73 a; MS. of Thomas Wilkie, Abbotsford, derived by Wilkie from his father, “who heard a Lady Brigs sing this when he was a boy.”

He took a sword in every handAnd on the house did venture,And swore if they wad not gee her upHe would make all their doors play clatter.Her angry father, when he saw this,That he would lose his ae daughter,He swore if he had not been gude at the swordHe durst not come to make his doors clatter.

He took a sword in every handAnd on the house did venture,And swore if they wad not gee her upHe would make all their doors play clatter.

He took a sword in every hand

And on the house did venture,

And swore if they wad not gee her up

He would make all their doors play clatter.

Her angry father, when he saw this,That he would lose his ae daughter,He swore if he had not been gude at the swordHe durst not come to make his doors clatter.

Her angry father, when he saw this,

That he would lose his ae daughter,

He swore if he had not been gude at the sword

He durst not come to make his doors clatter.

It was far in the night, and the bairnies grat;The mither beneath the mools heard that.

It was far in the night, and the bairnies grat;

The mither beneath the mools heard that.

sung in Wuthering Heights, ch. 9, has not unnaturally been taken for a relic of a traditional Scottish ballad of a dead mother returning to her abused children. It is, in fact, a stanza (not literally well remembered) from the Danish ballad ‘Moderen under Mulde,’ Grundtvig, II, 470, No 89,B11, translated by Jamieson, and given in the notes to the fourth canto of Scott’s Lady of the Lake.

The following “fragment,” given in Motherwell’s MS., p. 184, “from Mr William Steele of Greenock, advocate,” I suppose to have been the effort of a self-satisfied amateur, and to have been written as a fragment. The third and fourth stanzas recall the broadside ballad ‘The Lady Isabella’s Tragedy.’

Lady Margaret has bound her silken snoodA little aboon her bree,Lady Margaret has kilted her grey mantelA little aboon her knee.Lady Margaret has left her bonnie bower,But and her father’s ha,And with Lord Hugh MontgomerieLady Margaret has gane awa.* * * * * *‘I have made a bed, Lady Margaret,Beneath the hawthorn-tree;It’s lang and it’s deep, and there thou shalt sleepTill I come back to thee.’* * * * * *Then out and spake her father dear,As he sat down to dine,‘Gae, page, and tell Lady Margaret to comeAnd fill for me the wine.‘Gae, page, and tell Lady Margaret to comeAnd glad her father’s ee;The wine that is poured by her fair, fair handIs sweetest aye to me.’Then out and spake the fat earth-worm,That wons beneath the stane;‘Yestreen I fed on a rosie cheekAnd on a white hause-bane.‘Yestreen I fed on a rosy cheekAnd on a snaw-white bree;But never again Lady MargaretShall fill the wine for thee.”@

Lady Margaret has bound her silken snoodA little aboon her bree,Lady Margaret has kilted her grey mantelA little aboon her knee.

Lady Margaret has bound her silken snood

A little aboon her bree,

Lady Margaret has kilted her grey mantel

A little aboon her knee.

Lady Margaret has left her bonnie bower,But and her father’s ha,And with Lord Hugh MontgomerieLady Margaret has gane awa.

Lady Margaret has left her bonnie bower,

But and her father’s ha,

And with Lord Hugh Montgomerie

Lady Margaret has gane awa.

* * * * * *

‘I have made a bed, Lady Margaret,Beneath the hawthorn-tree;It’s lang and it’s deep, and there thou shalt sleepTill I come back to thee.’

‘I have made a bed, Lady Margaret,

Beneath the hawthorn-tree;

It’s lang and it’s deep, and there thou shalt sleep

Till I come back to thee.’

* * * * * *

Then out and spake her father dear,As he sat down to dine,‘Gae, page, and tell Lady Margaret to comeAnd fill for me the wine.

Then out and spake her father dear,

As he sat down to dine,

‘Gae, page, and tell Lady Margaret to come

And fill for me the wine.

‘Gae, page, and tell Lady Margaret to comeAnd glad her father’s ee;The wine that is poured by her fair, fair handIs sweetest aye to me.’

‘Gae, page, and tell Lady Margaret to come

And glad her father’s ee;

The wine that is poured by her fair, fair hand

Is sweetest aye to me.’

Then out and spake the fat earth-worm,That wons beneath the stane;‘Yestreen I fed on a rosie cheekAnd on a white hause-bane.

Then out and spake the fat earth-worm,

That wons beneath the stane;

‘Yestreen I fed on a rosie cheek

And on a white hause-bane.

‘Yestreen I fed on a rosy cheekAnd on a snaw-white bree;But never again Lady MargaretShall fill the wine for thee.”@

‘Yestreen I fed on a rosy cheek

And on a snaw-white bree;

But never again Lady Margaret

Shall fill the wine for thee.”@

FOOTNOTES:[117]Stanza 11,2of Percy’s ballad is from The Taming of the Shrew, iv, 1; 3, 5, 7, are, wholly or in part, from Hamlet, iv, 5; 12, 13, from Fletcher’s Queen of Corinth, iii, 2; 15 from Hamlet, as before; 17, 18, from Much Ado about Nothing, ii, 3; one line of 22 from King Lear, iii, 4.[118]The verses from this tale are printed separately in Buchan’s Ballads of the North of Scotland, I, 117, ‘The Maid and Fairy.’[119]But Jamieson confesses: “Of the verses which have been introduced I cannot answer for the exactness of any, except the stanza put into the mouth of the king of Elfland, which was indelibly impressed upon my memory [though J. was only seven or eight years old] long before I knew anything of Shakspere.” The stanza is: [in came the king of Elfland,]‘With fi, fi, fo and fum!I smell the blood of a Christian man;Be he dead, be he living, wi my brandI’ll clash his harns frae his harn-pan.’

[117]Stanza 11,2of Percy’s ballad is from The Taming of the Shrew, iv, 1; 3, 5, 7, are, wholly or in part, from Hamlet, iv, 5; 12, 13, from Fletcher’s Queen of Corinth, iii, 2; 15 from Hamlet, as before; 17, 18, from Much Ado about Nothing, ii, 3; one line of 22 from King Lear, iii, 4.

[118]The verses from this tale are printed separately in Buchan’s Ballads of the North of Scotland, I, 117, ‘The Maid and Fairy.’

[119]But Jamieson confesses: “Of the verses which have been introduced I cannot answer for the exactness of any, except the stanza put into the mouth of the king of Elfland, which was indelibly impressed upon my memory [though J. was only seven or eight years old] long before I knew anything of Shakspere.” The stanza is: [in came the king of Elfland,]‘With fi, fi, fo and fum!I smell the blood of a Christian man;Be he dead, be he living, wi my brandI’ll clash his harns frae his harn-pan.’

‘With fi, fi, fo and fum!I smell the blood of a Christian man;Be he dead, be he living, wi my brandI’ll clash his harns frae his harn-pan.’

‘With fi, fi, fo and fum!

I smell the blood of a Christian man;

Be he dead, be he living, wi my brand

I’ll clash his harns frae his harn-pan.’

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