FOOTNOTES:
[238] [Jill is sometimes used as a woman's name and at other times as a man's.]
[239] [Ver. 50. His bodye Ile give to thee.] This was agreeable to the feudal customs: The Lord had a right to give a wife to his vassals. See Shakespeare's All's well that ends well.
XIV.
THE SHEPHERD'S ADDRESS TO HIS MUSE.
This poem, originally printed from the small MS. volume, mentioned above in No. X., has been improved by a more perfect copy in England's Helicon, where the author is discovered to be N. Breton.
Good Muse, rocke me aslepe
With some sweete harmony:
This wearie eyes is not to kepe
Thy wary company.
Sweete Love, begon a while,
Thou seest my heavines: 5
Beautie is borne but to beguyle
My harte of happines.
See howe my little flocke,
That lovde to feede on highe, 10
Doe headlonge tumble downe the rocke,
And in the valley dye.
The bushes and the trees,
That were so freshe and greene,
Doe all their deintie colors leese, 15
And not a leafe is seene.
The blacke birde and the thrushe,
That made the woodes to ringe,
With all the rest, are now at hushe,
And not a note they singe. 20
Swete Philomele, the birde
That hath the heavenly throte,
Doth nowe, alas! not once afforde
Recordinge of a note.
The flowers have had a frost, 25
The herbs have loste their savoure;
And Phillida the faire hath lost
"For me her wonted" favour.
Thus all these careful sights,
So kill me in conceit; 30
That now to hope upon delights,
It is but meere deceite.
And therefore, my sweete Muse,
That knowest what helpe is best,
Doe nowe thy heavenlie conninge use 35
To sett my harte at rest:
And in a dreame bewraie
What fate shal be my frende;
Whether my life shall still decaye,
Or when my sorrowes ende. 40
XV.
LORD THOMAS AND FAIR ELLINOR
Is given (with corrections) from an ancient copy in black letter, in the Pepys collection, intitled, A tragical ballad on the unfortunate love of lord Thomas and fair Ellinor, together with the downfall of the browne girl.—In the same collection may be seen an attempt to modernize this old song, and reduce it to a different measure: A proof of its popularity.
The reader will find a Scottish song on a similar subject to this, towards the end of this volume, intitled, Lord Thomas and Lady Annet.
[This is one of the ballads still kept in print in Seven Dials, and Ritson describes it as having "every appearance of being originally a minstrel song."
There is a series of ballads on the same subject—
1. Lord Thomas and Fair Annet, (see book iii. No. 4.)
2. Fair Margaret and Sweet William, (see book ii. No. 4.)
3. Sweet Willie and Fair Annie, (Jamieson's Popular Ballads, l. 22.)
The last named ballad is a combination of the first two, the first part being similar to Lord Thomas, and the second part to Fair Margaret.]
Lord Thomas he was a bold forrestèr,
And a chaser of the kings deere;
Faire Ellinor was a fine womàn,
And lord Thomas he loved her deare.
Come riddle my riddle, dear mother, he sayd, 5
And riddle us both as one;
Whether I shall marrye with faire Ellinòr,
And let the browne girl alone?
The browne girl she has got houses and lands,
Faire Ellinor she has got none, 10
And therefore I charge thee on my blessìng,
To bring me the browne girl home.
And as it befelle on a high holidaye,
As many there are beside,
Lord Thomas he went to faire Ellinòr, 15
That should have been his bride.
And when he came to faire Ellinors bower,
He knocked there at the ring,
And who was so readye as faire Ellinòr,
To lett lord Thomas withinn. 20
What newes, what newes, lord Thomas, she sayd?
What newes dost thou bring to mee?
I am come to bid thee to my weddìng,
And that is bad newes for thee.
O God forbid, lord Thomas, she sayd, 25
That such a thing should be done;
I thought to have been the bride my selfe,
And thou to have been the bridegrome.
Come riddle my riddle, dear mother, she sayd,[240]
And riddle it all in one; 30
Whether I shall goe to lord Thomas his wedding,
Or whether shall tarry at home?
There are manye that are your friendes, daughtèr,
And manye a one your foe,
Therefore I charge you on my blessing, 35
To lord Thomas his wedding don't goe.
There are manye that are my friendes, mothèr;
But were every one my foe,
Betide me life, betide me death,
To lord Thomas his wedding I'ld goe. 40
She cloathed herself in gallant attire,
And her merrye men all in greene;
And as they rid through every towne,
They took her to be some queene.
But when she came to lord Thomas his gate, 45
She knocked there at the ring;
And who was so readye as lord Thomàs,
To lett faire Ellinor in.
Is this your bride, fair Ellinor sayd?
Methinks she looks wonderous browne; 50
Thou mightest have had as faire a womàn,
As ever trod on the grounde.
Despise her not, fair Ellin, he sayd,
Despise her not unto mee;
For better I love thy little fingèr, 55
Than all her whole bodèe.
This browne bride had a little penknife,
That was both long and sharpe,
And betwixt the short ribs and the long,
She prickd faire Ellinor's harte. 60
O Christ thee save, lord Thomas, hee sayd,
Methinks thou lookst wonderous wan;
Thou usedst to look with as fresh a colòur,
As ever the sun shone on.
Oh, art thou blind, lord Thomas? she sayd, 65
Or canst thou not very well see?
Oh! dost thou not see my owne hearts bloode
Run trickling down my knee.
Lord Thomas he had a sword by his side;
As he walked about the halle, 70
He cut off his brides head from her shouldèrs,
And threw it against the walle.
He set the hilte against the grounde,
And the point against his harte.
There never three lovers together did meete, 75
That sooner againe did parte.