Transcriber's Notes
Archaic, dialect and inconsistent spellings and hyphenation have been retained as in the original. Minor corrections to format and punctuation together with regularisation of poetry line numbering have been made without comment. Any other changes to the text have been listed at the end of the book.
Notes with reference to ballad line numbers are presented at the end of each ballad and the presence of a note is indicated by links in the text.
ENGLISH AND SCOTTISH BALLADS.
EDITED BY
FRANCIS JAMES CHILD.
VOLUME VIII.
BOSTON:
LITTLE, BROWN AND COMPANY.
M.DCCC.LX.
Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1858, by Little, Brown and Company, in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the District of Massachusetts.
RIVERSIDE, CAMBRIDGE:
STEREOTYPED AND PRINTED BY
H. O. HOUGHTON AND COMPANY.
CONTENTS OF VOLUME EIGHTH.
BOOK VIII.
KING JOHN AND THE ABBOT OF CANTERBURY.
Stories resembling that contained in the following ballad are to be met with in the literature of most of the nations of Europe; for example, in the Gesta Romanorum, (No. XIX. and [XXXV.] of Madden's Old English Versions,) in the amusing German tale Der Phaffe Amis, 98-180, in Eulenspiegel, (Marbach, p. 28,) and the English Owlglass (31st Adventure in the recent edition), in the Grimm's Kinder-und-Haus-marchen, No. 152, in Sacchetti's Novels, No. 4, the Patrañuelo of Juan Timoneda, Alcala, 1576 (Ritson, Anc. Songs, ii. 183), the Contes à rire, i. 182, (Gent. Mag. 65, i. 35,) etc., etc. King John and the Abbot, says Grundtvig (ii. 650), is universally known in Denmark in the form of a prose tale; and a copy is printed in Gamle danske Minder (1854) No. 111, The King and the Miller.
Wynken de Worde, printed in 1511, a little collection of riddles, translated from the French, like those propounded by King John to the Abbot, with the title Demaundes Joyous. By this link the present ballad is connected with a curious class of compositions, peculiar to the Middle Ages—the Disputations, or Wit-Combats, of which the dialogues of Salomon and Marcolf (existing in many languages) are the most familiar, and those of Salomon and Saturn (in Anglo-Saxon) the oldest preserved specimens. These dialogues, in their earlier shape grave contests for superiority in knowledge and wisdom, underwent a change about the twelfth century, by which they became essentially comic. The serious element, represented by Salomon, was retained after this, merely to afford material, or contrast, for the coarse humor of Marcolf, whose part it is, under the character of a rude and clownish person, "facie deformis et turpissimus," to turn the sententious observations of the royal sage into ludicrous parodies.[1]
The hint, and possibly a model, for these disputations may have been found in Jewish tradition. We learn from Josephus, (Antiquities, Book VIII. ch. v.) that Hiram of Tyre and Solomon sent one another sophistical puzzles and enigmas to be solved, on condition of forfeiting large sums of money in case of failure, and that Solomon's riddles were all guessed by Abdæmon of Tyre, or by Abdimus, his son, for authorities differ. This account coincides with what we read in Chronicles, (Book II. ch. ii. 13, 14,) of the man sent by Hiram to Solomon, who, besides a universal knowledge of the arts, was skilful "to find out every device that might be put to him" by cunning men—that is, apparently, "hard questions," such as the Queen of Sheba came to prove Solomon with, (1 Kings, x. i.) some account of which is given in the Talmud.—See, on the whole subject, Kemble's masterly essay on Salomon and Saturn, printed by the Ælfric Society: also Grässe, Sagenkreise des Mittelalters, p. 406-471; the Grimms' Kinder-und-Hausmärchen, vol. iii. p. 236, ed. 1856; F. W. V. Schmidt, Taschenbuch deutscher Romanzen, p. 82.
Examples of the riddle-song pure and simple will be found under Captain Wedderburn's Courtship.
This ballad is taken from Percy's Reliques, ii. 329. The copy in Durfey's Pills to Purge Melancholy, iv. 29, or A Collection of Old Ballads, ii. 49, is vastly inferior to the present.
"The common popular ballad of King John and the Abbot," says Percy, "seems to have been abridged and modernized about the time of James I., from one much older, entitled King John and the Bishop of Canterbury. The Editor's folio MS. contains a copy of this last, but in too corrupt a state to be reprinted; it however afforded many lines worth reviving, which will be found inserted in the ensuing stanzas.
"The archness of the following questions and answers hath been much admired by our old ballad-makers; for besides the two copies above mentioned, there is extant another ballad on the same subject, (but of no great antiquity or merit,) entitled King Olfrey and the Abbot. [Old Ball. ii. 55.] Lastly, about the time of the civil wars, when the cry ran against the bishops, some puritan worked up the same story into a very doleful ditty, to a solemn tune, concerning King Henry and a Bishop; with this stinging moral:
When learned bishops princes eyes do blind.'
[1] Among those nations who originated and developed the character of Marcolf (the German and the French) his fame has declined, but in Italy, where the legend was first introduced towards the end of the sixteenth century, his shrewd sayings, like the kindred jests of the Eulenspiegel in Germany, have an undiminished popularity, and his story, both in the form of a chap-book and of a satirical epic, (the Bertoldo,) is circulated throughout the length and breadth of the country, whence it has also been transplanted into Greece.
"The following is chiefly printed from an ancient black-letter copy, to the tune of Derry-down."
Of a notable prince, that was called King John;
And he ruled England with maine and with might,
For he did great wrong, and maintein'd little right.
Concerning the Abbott of Canterbùrye;
How for his house-keeping and high renowne,
They rode poste for him to fair London towne.
The abbot kept in his house every day; 10
And fifty golde chaynes, without any doubt,
In velvet coates waited the abbot about.
Thou keepest a farre better house than mee;
And for thy house-keeping and high renowne, 15
I feare thou work'st treason against my crown."
I never spend nothing, but what is my owne;
And I trust your grace will doe me no deere,
For spending of my owne true-gotten geere." 20
And now for the same thou needest must dye;
For except thou canst answer me questions three,
Thy head shall be smitten from thy bodìe.
With my crowne of golde so faire on my head,
Among all my liege-men so noble of birthe,
Thou must tell me to one penny what I am worthe.
How soone I may ride the whole world about; 30
And at the third question thou must not shrink,
But tell me here truly what I do think."
Nor I cannot answer your grace as yet:
But if you will give me but three weekes space, 35
Ile do my endeavour to answer your grace."
And that is the longest time thou hast to live;
For if thou dost not answer my questions three,
Thy lands and thy livings are forfeit to mee." 40
And he rode to Cambridge, and Oxenford;
But never a doctor there was so wise,
That could with his learning an answer devise.
And he mett his shepheard a going to fold:
"How now, my lord abbot, you are welcome home;
What newes do you bring us from good King John?"
That I have but three days more to live; 50
For if I do not answer him questions three,
My head will be smitten from my bodìe.
With his crowne of golde so fair on his head,
Among all his liege men so noble of birth, 55
To within one penny of what he is worth.
How soone he may ride this whole world about:
And at the third question I must not shrinke,
But tell him there truly what he does thinke." 60
That a fool he may learne a wise man witt?
Lend me horse, and serving men, and your apparel,
And Ile ride to London to answere your quarrel.
I am like your lordship, as ever may bee;
And if you will but lend me your gowne,
There is none shall knowe us at fair London towne."
With sumptuous array most gallant and brave, 70
With crozier, and miter, and rochet, and cope,
Fit to appear 'fore our fader the pope."
"Tis well thou'rt come back to keepe thy day:
For and if thou canst answer my questions three,75
Thy life and thy living both saved shall bee.
With my crowne of golde so fair on my head,
Among all my liege-men so noble of birthe,
Tell me to one penny what I am worth." 80
Among the false Jewes, as I have bin told:
And twenty-nine is the worth of thee,
For I thinke thou art one penny worser than hee."
"I did not think I had been worth so littel!
—Now secondly tell me, without any doubt,
How soone I may ride this whole world about."
Until the next morning he riseth againe; 90
And then your grace need not make any doubt
But in twenty-four hours you'll ride it about."
"I did not think it could be gone so soone!
—Now from the third question thou must not shrinke, 95
But tell me here truly what I do thinke."
You thinke I'm the abbot of Canterbury;
But I'm his poor shepheard, as plain you may see,
That am come to beg pardon for him and for mee." 100
"Ile make thee lord abbot this day in his place!"
"Now naye, my liege, be not in such speede,
For alacke I can neither write ne reade."
For this merry jest thou hast showne unto mee;
And tell the old abbot when thou comest home,
Thou hast brought him a pardon from good King John."
CAPTAIN WEDDERBURN'S COURTSHIP.
The two following ballads, in connection with the foregoing, will serve as specimens of the anciently highly-popular class of riddle songs. No ballad, says Motherwell, is even now more frequently met with on the stalls than Captain Wedderburn's Courtship. It was first published in The New British Songster, Falkirk, 1785, and afterwards in Jamieson's Popular Ballads, ii. 154, from which the present copy is taken. Chambers gives a few different readings from a copy furnished by Mr. Kinloch—Scottish Ballads, p. 331.
A fragment of this piece is given in Minstrelsy of the English Border, p. 230, under the title of The Laird of Roslin's Daughter. Riddles like those in the following ballads are found in Proud Lady Margaret, p. 83 of this volume, The Courteous Knight, in the Appendix, and The Bonny Hind Squire, in Scottish Traditional Versions of Ancient Ballads, p. 42, Percy Society, vol. xvii.—three varieties of one original: and in Gifts from over Sea, Appendix, p. 290. Also, in several of the ancient Norse poems; in the ancient Danish ballad Svend Vonved, Grundtvig, No. 18; in Sven Svanehvit, Svenska F. V., No. 45; Hammershaimb's Færöiske Kvæder, ii. No. 4; Landstad's Norske Folkeviser, p. 369; Erk's Liederhort, No. 153; Uhland, No. 1, 2, 3; Erlach, iii. 37; Wunderhorn, ii. 407; Tschischka and Schottky, Oesterreichische Volksl. p. 28; Haupt and Schmaler, Volksl. der Wenden, i. No. 150, ii. No. 74; Talvj, Volksl. der Serben, ii. 77; Goetze, Stimmen des russischen Volkes, p. 163; etc., etc. See especially Grundtvig, i. 237, ii. 648, from whom we have borrowed some of these references.
"The following copy was furnished from Mr. Herd's MS. by the editor of the Border Minstrelsy, and the present writer has supplied a few readings of small importance from his own recollection, as it was quite familiar to him in his early youth." Jamieson.
Walk'd thro' the wood her lane,
And by came Captain Wedderburn,
A servant to the king.
He said unto his serving men, 5
"Were't not against the law,
I would tak her to my ain bed,
And lay her neist the wa'."
"Amang my father's trees; 10
And you must let me walk alane,
Kind sir, now, if you please;
The supper bell it will be rung,
And I'll be mist awa';
Sae I winna lie in your bed, 15
Either at stock or wa'."
I pray lend me your hand,
And you shall hae drums and trumpets
Always at your command; 20
And fifty men to guard you with,
That well their swords can draw;
Sae we'se baith lie in ae bed,
And ye'se lie neist the wa'."
"And pray lat gae my hand;
The supper bell it will be rung,
I can nae langer stand;
My father he will angry be,
Gin I be miss'd awa; 30
Sae I'll nae lie in your bed,
Either at stock or wa'."
"I pray tell me your name:"
"My name is Captain Wedderburn, 35
A servant to the king.
Tho' thy father and his men were here,
Of them I'd have nae awe;
But tak you to my ain bed,
And lay you neist the wa'." 40
And set this lady on,
And held her by the milk-white hand,
Even as they rade along;
He held her by the middle jimp, 45
For fear that she should fa',
To tak her to his ain bed,
And lay her neist the wa'.
His landlady look'd ben; 50
Says, "Mony a pretty lady
In Edenbruch I've seen,
But sic a lovely face as thine
In it I never saw;
Gae mak her down a down-bed, 55
And lay her neist the wa'."
"I pray ye lat me be;
I winna gang into your bed,
Till ye dress me dishes three: 60
Dishes three ye maun dress to me,
Gin I should eat them a',
Afore that I lie in your bed,
Either at stock or wa'.
A cherry without a stane;
And ye maun get to my supper
A chicken without a bane;
And ye maun get to my supper
A bird without a ga'; 70
Or I winna lie in your bed,
Either at stock or wa'."
I'm sure it has nae stane;
And whan the chicken's in the egg, 75
I'm sure it has nae bane;
And sin the flood o' Noah,
Sae we'll baith lie in ae bed,
And ye'se lie neist the wa'." 80
"Nor that gait me perplex;
For ye maun tell me questions yet,
And that is questions six:
Questions six ye tell to me, 85
And that is three times twa,
Afore I lie in your bed,
Either at stock or wa'.
What hicher than the trees? 90
What's war nor an ill woman's wish?
What's deeper than the seas?
What bird sings first? and whareupon
The dew doth first down fa'?
Ye sall tell afore I lay me down 95
Between you and the wa'."
Heaven's hicher than the trees;
The deil's warse nor a woman's wish;
Hell's deeper than the seas; 100
The cock craws first; on cedar top
The dew down first doth fa';
And we'll lie baith in ae bed,
And ye'se lie neist the wa'."
"And gi'e your fleechin' o'er,
Unless you'll find me ferlies,
And that is ferlies four;
Ferlies four ye maun find me,
And that is twa and twa; 110
Or I'll never lie in your bed,
Either at stock or wa'.
That in December grew;
And get to me a silk mantel, 115
That waft was ne'er ca'd thro';
A sparrow's horn; a priest unborn,
This night to join us twa;
Or I'll nae lie in your bed,
Either at stock or wa'." 120
That in December grew;
My mither has an Indian gown,
That waft was ne'er ca'd thro';
A sparrow's horn is quickly found; 125
There's ane on every claw;
There's ane upon the neb o' him;
Perhaps there may be twa.
Just ready to come in; 130
Nae man can say that he was born,
To lie it were a sin;
A wild bore tore his mither's side,
He out o' it did fa';
Then we'll baith lie in ae bed, 135
And thou's lie neist the wa'."
That morning whan she raise,
That this wad be the hindermaist
O' a' her maiden days; 140
But now there's nae within the realm,
I think, a blyther twa;
And they baith lie in ae bed,
And she lies neist the wa'.
78. The peasants in Scotland say that the dove that was sent out of the Ark by Noah flew till she burst her gall, and that no dove since that time ever had a gall. J.
LAY THE BENT TO THE BONNY BROOM.
From Durfey's Pills to Purge Melancholy, iv. 129, with the title A Riddle wittily expounded. The same in Jamieson's Popular Ballads, ii. 155, and in The Borderer's Table Book, vii. 83. A fragment of this ballad, called The Three Sisters, is printed in Gilbert's Ancient Christmas Carols, (2d ed.) p. 65, and has a different burden. It begins
Jennifer gentle and Rosemaree,
And they three loved one valiant knight,
As the dew flies over the mulberry tree.
Lay the bent to the bonny broom,
And she had lovely daughters three,
Fa, la la la, fa, la la la ra re.
Which also lived at the North.
A wife he did desire to have.
One evening when it was late.
And pinn'd the door with a silver pin. 10
And laid soft pillows under his head.
She went to bed to this young knight.
These words unto him she did say.
"I pray, Sir Knight, you marry me."
"Thy suit, fair maid, shall not be deny'd,
This very day will I marry thee."
"Tell me what your three questions be."
Or what is deeper than the sea?
Or what is sharper than a thorn?
Or what is worse than a woman was?" 30
And hell is deeper than the sea.
And hunger's sharper than a thorn.
And the devil's worse than the woman was."
The knight became exceeding glad.
He much commended her for it. 40
He made of her his lovely bride.
This song I dedicate to you.
Unto the man that you do love.