FOOTNOTES:
[422] Mr. Warton. Vid. Observations on the Fairy Queen, 2 vol. 1762, 12mo. passim.
II.
ST. GEORGE AND THE DRAGON.
The following ballad is given (with some corrections) from two ancient black-letter copies in the Pepys Collection: one of which is in 12mo., the other in folio.
[The story of St. George and the Dragon is found in many forms in the northern languages.]
Of Hector's deeds did Homer sing;
And of the sack of stately Troy,
What griefs fair Helena did bring,
Which was sir Paris' only joy:
And by my pen I will recite 5
St. George's deeds, and English knight.
Against the Sarazens so rude
Fought he full long and many a day,
Where many gyants he subdu'd,
In honour of the christian way: 10
And after many adventures past
To Egypt land he came at last.
Now, as the story plain doth tell,
Within that countrey there did rest
A dreadful dragon fierce and fell, 15
Whereby they were full sore opprest;
Who by his poisonous breath each day,
Did many of the city slay.
The grief whereof did grow so great
Throughout the limits of the land, 20
That they their wise-men did intreat
To shew their cunning out of hand;
What way they might this fiend destroy,
That did the countrey thus annoy.
The wise-men all before the king 25
This answer fram'd incontinent;
The dragon none to death might bring
By any means they could invent:
His skin more hard than brass was found,
That sword nor spear could pierce nor wound. 30
When this the people understood,
They cryed out most piteouslye,
The dragon's breath infects their blood,
That every day in heaps they dye:
Among them such a plague it bred, 35
The living scarce could bury the dead.
No means there were, as they could hear,
For to appease the dragon's rage,
But to present some virgin clear,
Whose blood his fury might asswage; 40
Each day he would a maiden eat,
For to allay his hunger great.
This thing by art the wise-men found,
Which truly must observed be;
Wherefore throughout the city round 45
A virgin pure of good degree
Was by the king's commission still
Taken up to serve the dragon's will.
Thus did the dragon every day
Untimely crop some virgin flowr, 50
Till all the maids were worn away,
And none were left him to devour:
Saving the king's fair daughter bright,
Her father's only heart's delight.
Then came the officers to the king 55
That heavy message to declare,
Which did his heart with sorrow sting;
She is, quoth he, my kingdom's heir:
O let us all be poisoned here,
Ere she should die, that is my dear. 60
Then rose the people presently,
And to the king in rage they went;
They said his daughter dear should dye,
The dragon's fury to prevent:
Our daughters all are dead, quoth they, 65
And have been made the dragon's prey:
And by their blood we rescued were,
And thou hast sav'd thy life thereby;
And now in sooth it is but faire,
For us thy daughter so should die. 70
O save my daughter, said the king;
And let ME feel the dragon's sting.
Then fell fair Sabra on her knee,
And to her father dear did say,
O father, strive not thus for me, 75
But let me be the dragon's prey;
It may be, for my sake alone
This plague upon the land was thrown.
Tis better I should dye, she said,
Than all your subjects perish quite; 80
Perhaps the dragon here was laid,
For my offence to work his spite:
And after he hath suckt my gore,
Your land shall feel the grief no more.
What hast thou done, my daughter dear, 85
For to deserve this heavy scourge?
It is my fault, as may appear,
Which makes the gods our state to purge;
Then ought I die, to stint the strife,
And to preserve thy happy life. 90
Like mad-men, all the people cried,
Thy death to us can do no good;
Our safety only doth abide
In making her the dragon's food.
Lo! here I am, I come, quoth she, 95
Therefore do what you will with me.
Nay stay, dear daughter, quoth the queen,
And as thou art a virgin bright,
That hast for vertue famous been,
So let me cloath thee all in white; 100
And crown thy head with flowers sweet,
An ornament for virgins meet.
And when she was attired so,
According to her mother's mind,
Unto the stake then did she go; 105
To which her tender limbs they bind:
And being bound to stake a thrall
She bade farewell unto them all.
Farewell, my father dear, quoth she,
And my sweet mother meek and mild; 110
Take you no thought nor weep for me,
For you may have another child:
Since for my country's good I dye,
Death I receive most willinglye.
The king and queen and all their train 115
With weeping eyes went then their way,
And let their daughter there remain,
To be the hungry dragon's prey:
But as she did there weeping lye,
Behold St. George came riding by. 120
And seeing there a lady bright
So rudely tyed unto a stake,
As well became a valiant knight,
He straight to her his way did take:
Tell me, sweet maiden, then quoth he, 125
What caitif thus abuseth thee?
And, lo! by Christ his cross I vow,
Which here is figured on my breast,
I will revenge it on his brow,
And break my lance upon his chest: 130
And speaking thus whereas he stood,
The dragon issued from the wood.
The lady that did first espy
The dreadful dragon coming so,
Unto St. George aloud did cry, 135
And willed him away to go;
Here comes that cursed fiend, quoth she;
That soon will make an end of me.
St. George then looking round about,
The fiery dragon soon espy'd, 140
And like a knight of courage stout,
Against him did most fiercely ride;
And with such blows he did him greet,
He fell beneath his horse's feet.
For with his launce that was so strong, 145
As he came gaping in his face,
In at his mouth he thrust along;
For he could pierce no other place:
And thus within the lady's view
This mighty dragon straight he slew. 150
The savour of his poisoned breath
Could do this holy knight no harm.
Thus he the lady sav'd from death,
And home he led her by the arm;
Which when king Ptolemy did see, 155
There was great mirth and melody.
When as that valiant champion there
Had slain the dragon in the field,
To court he brought the lady fair,
Which to their hearts much joy did yield. 160
He in the court of Egypt staid
Till he most falsely was betray'd.
That lady dearly lov'd the knight,
He counted her his only joy; 165
But when their love was brought to light
It turn'd unto their great annoy:
Th' Morocco king was in the court,
Who to the orchard did resort,
Dayly to take the pleasant air, 170
For pleasure sake he us'd to walk,
Under a wall he oft did hear
St. George with lady Sabra talk:
Their love he shew'd unto the king,
Which to St. George great woe did bring. 175
Those kings together did devise
To make the christian knight away,
With letters him in curteous wise
They straightway sent to Persia:
But wrote to the sophy him to kill, 180
And treacherously his blood to spill.
Thus they for good did him reward
With evil, and most subtilly
By much vile meanes they had regard
To work his death most cruelly; 185
Who, as through Persia land he rode,
With zeal destroy'd each idol god.
For which offence he straight was thrown
Into a dungeon dark and deep;
Where, when he thought his wrongs upon, 190
He bitterly did wail and weep:
Yet like a knight of courage stout,
At length his way he digged out.
Three grooms of the king of Persia
By night this valiant champion slew, 195
Though he had fasted many a day;
And then away from thence he flew
On the best steed the sophy had;
Which when he knew he was full mad.
Towards Christendom he made his flight, 200
But met a gyant by the way,
With whom in combat he did fight
Most valiantly a summer's day:
Who yet, for all his bats of steel,
Was forc'd the sting of death to feel. 205
Back o'er the seas with many bands
Of warlike souldiers soon he past,
Vowing upon those heathen lands
To work revenge; which at the last,
Ere thrice three years were gone and spent, 210
He wrought unto his heart's content.
Save onely Egypt land he spar'd
For Sabra bright her only sake,
And, ere for her he had regard,
He meant a tryal kind to make: 215
Mean while the king o'ercome in field
Unto saint George did quickly yield.
Then straight Morocco's king he slew,
And took fair Sabra to his wife,
But meant to try if she were true 220
Ere with her he would lead his life:
And, tho' he had her in his train,
She did a virgin pure remain.
Toward England then that lovely dame
The brave St. George conducted strait, 225
An eunuch also with them came,
Who did upon the lady wait;
These three from Egypt went alone.
Now mark St. George's valour shown.
When as they in a forest were, 230
The lady did desire to rest;
Mean while St. George to kill a deer,
For their repast did think it best:
Leaving her with the eunuch there,
Whilst he did go to kill the deer. 235
But lo! all in his absence came
Two hungry lyons fierce and fell,
And tore the eunuch on the same
In pieces small, the truth to tell;
Down by the lady then they laid, 240
Whereby they shew'd, she was a maid.
But when he came from hunting back,
And did behold this heavy chance,
Then for his lovely virgin's sake
His courage strait he did advance, 245
And came into the lions sight,
Who ran at him with all their might.
Their rage did him no whit dismay,
Who, like a stout and valiant knight,
Did both the hungry lyons slay 250
Within the lady Sabra's sight:
Who all this while sad and demure,
There stood most like a virgin pure.
Now when St. George did surely know
This lady was a virgin true, 255
His heart was glad, that erst was woe,
And all his love did soon renew:
He set her on a palfrey steed,
And towards England came with speed.
Where being in short space arriv'd 260
Unto his native dwelling-place;
Therein with his dear love he liv'd,
And fortune did his nuptials grace:
They many years of joy did see,
And led their lives at Coventry. 265
III.
LOVE WILL FIND OUT THE WAY.
This excellent song is ancient: but we could only give it from a modern copy.
[Earlier editions of this spirited song are printed in Evans's Old Ballads, iii. 282 (1810), and Rimbault's Little Book of Songs and Ballads, p. 137. It is quoted in Brome's Sparagus Garden, acted in 1635, and Shirley's Constant Maid was republished in 1661, under the title of Love will find out the Way, by T. B.
Dr. Rimbault has the following note in his Musical Illustrations, "The old black-letter copy of this ballad is called 'Truth's Integrity: or, a curious Northerne Ditty, called Love will finde out the Way. To a pleasant new Tune Printed at London for F. Coules, dwelling in the Old Bailey.' There is a second part consisting of six stanzas, which Percy has not reprinted. The tune is here given (translated from the Tablature) from Musicks Recreation on the Lyra Viol, published by Playford in 1652. It is also preserved in Forbes's Cantus, 1662; in Musick's Delight on the Cithren, 1666; and in D'Urfey's Pills to Purge Melancholy, 1719. The Pepysian Collection contains several ballads to this tune."
Mr. Chappell writes, "The air is still current, for in the summer of 1855, Mr. Jennings, Organist of All Saints' Church, Maidstone, noted it down from the wandering hop-pickers singing a song to it on their entrance into that town." Popular Music, vol. i. p. 304.]
Over the mountains,
And over the waves;
Under the fountains,
And under the graves;
Under the floods that are deepest, 5
Which Neptune obey;
Over rocks that are steepest,
Love will find out the way.
Where there is no place
For the glow-worm to lye; 10
Where there is no space
For receipt of a fly;
Where the midge dares not venture,
Lest herself fast she lay;
If love come, he will enter, 15
And soon find out his way.
You may esteem him
A child for his might;
Or you may deem him
A coward from his flight; 20
But if she, whom love doth honour,
Be conceal'd from the day,
Set a thousand guards upon her,
Love will find out the way.
Some think to lose him, 25
By having him confin'd;
And some do suppose him,
Poor thing, to be blind;
But if ne'er so close ye wall him,
Do the best that you may, 30
Blind love, if so ye call him,
Will find out his way.
You may train the eagle
To stoop to your fist;
Or you may inveigle 35
The phenix of the east;
The lioness, ye may move her
To give o'er her prey;
But you'll ne'er stop a lover:
He will find out his way.
⁂
IV.
LORD THOMAS AND FAIR ANNET,
A Scottish Ballad,
Seems to be composed (not without improvements) out of two ancient English ones, printed in the former part of this volume. See book i. ballad xv. and book ii. ballad iv.—If this had been the original, the authors of those two ballads would hardly have adopted two such different stories: besides, this contains enlargements not to be found in either of the others. It is given with some corrections, from a MS. copy transmitted from Scotland.
[Jamieson prints a version of this ballad which was taken down from the recitation of Mrs. W. Arrot of Aberbrothick, and is entitled Sweet Willie and Fair Annie. He contends that it is "pure and entire," and expresses his opinion that the text of Percy's copy had been "adjusted" previous to its leaving Scotland.]
Lord Thomas and fair Annet
Sate a' day on a hill;
Whan night was cum, and sun was sett,
They had not talkt their fill.
Lord Thomas said a word in jest, 5
Fair Annet took it ill:
A'! I will nevir wed a wife
Against my ain friends will.
Gif ye wull nevir wed a wife,
A wife wull neir wed yee. 10
Sae he is hame to tell his mither,
And knelt upon his knee:
O rede, O rede, mither, he says,
A gude rede gie to mee:
O sall I tak the nut-browne bride, 15
And let faire Annet bee?
The nut-browne bride haes gowd and gear,
Fair Annet she has gat nane;
And the little beauty fair Annet has,
O it wull soon be gane! 20
And he has till his brother gane:
Now, brother, rede ye mee;
A' sall I marrie the nut-browne bride,
And let fair Annet bee?
The nut-browne bride has oxen, brother,
The nut-browne bride has kye;
I wad hae ye marrie the nut-browne bride,
And cast fair Annet bye.
Her oxen may dye i' the house, Billìe,
And her kye into the byre; 30
And I sall hae nothing to my sell,
Bot a fat fadge[423] by the fyre.
And he has till his sister gane:
Now, sister, rede ye mee;
O sall I marrie the nut-browne bride, 35
And set fair Annet free?
Ise rede ye tak fair Annet, Thomas,
And let the browne bride alane;
Lest ye sould sigh and say, Alace!
What is this we brought hame? 40
No, I will tak my mithers counsel,
And marrie me owt o' hand;
And I will tak the nut-browne bride;
Fair Annet may leive the land.
Up then rose fair Annets father 45
Twa hours or it wer day,
And he is gane into the bower,
Wherein fair Annet lay.
Rise up, rise up, fair Annet, he says,
Put on your silken sheene; 50
Let us gae to St. Maries kirke,
And see that rich weddeen.
My maides, gae to my dressing roome,
And dress to me my hair;
Whair-eir yee laid a plait before,
See yee lay ten times mair.
My maids, gae to my dressing room,
And dress to me my smock;
The one half is o' the holland fine,
The other o' needle-work. 60
The horse fair Annet rade upon,
He amblit like the wind,
Wi' siller he was shod before,
Wi' burning gowd behind.
Four and twanty siller bells 65
Wer a' tyed till his mane,
And yae tift[424] o' the norland wind,
They tinkled ane by ane.
Four and twanty gay gude knichts
Rade by the fair Annets side, 70
And four and twanty fair ladies,
As gin she had bin a bride.
And whan she cam to Maries kirk,
She sat on Maries stean:
The cleading that fair Annet had on 75
It skinkled in their een.
And whan she cam into the kirk,
She shimmer'd like the sun;
The belt that was about her waist,
Was a' wi' pearles bedone. 80
She sat her by the nut-browne bride,
And her een they wer sae clear,
Lord Thomas he clean forgat the bride,
Whan fair Annet she drew near.
He had a rose into his hand, 95
And he gave it kisses three,
And reaching by the nut-browne bride,
Laid it on fair Annets knee
Up than spak the nut-browne bride,
She spak wi' meikle spite; 90
And whair gat ye that rose-water,
That does mak yee sae white?
O I did get the rose-water,
Whair ye wull neir get nane,
For I did get that very rose-water 95
Into my mithers wame.
The bride she drew a long bodkin,
Frae out her gay head-gear,
And strake fair Annet unto the heart,
That word she nevir spak mair. 100
Lord Thomas he saw fair Annet wex pale,
And marvelit what mote bee:
But whan he saw her dear hearts blude,
A' wood-wroth[425] wexed hee.
He drew his dagger, that was sae sharp, 105
That was sae sharp and meet,
And drave into the nut-browne bride,
That fell deid at his feit.
Now stay for me, dear Annet, he sed,
Now stay, my dear, he cry'd; 110
Then strake the dagger untill his heart,
And fell deid by her side.
Lord Thomas was buried without kirk-wa',
Fair Annet within the quiere;
And o' the tane thair grew a birk, 115
The other a bonny briere.
And ay they grew, and ay they threw,
As they wad faine be neare;
And by this ye may ken right weil,
They ware twa luvers deare. 120