« 이전계속 »
Quoth he, thoughe I am my ladyes page,
Yet Ime my lord Barnardes manne.
My lord Barnard shall knowe of this,
Although I lose a limbe.
He layd him downe to swimme.
Asleep or awake, thou lord Barnard,
As thou art a man of life,
Little Musgrave's abed with thy wife.
If it be trew, thou litle foote-page,
This tale thou hast told to mee,
I freelye will give to thee.
This tale thou hast told to mee,
All hanged shalt thou bee.
Rise up, rise up, my merry men all,
And saddle me my good steede;
God wott, I had never more neede.
Then some they whistled, and some they sang,
And some did loudlye saye,
Awaye, Musgràve, away.
Methinkes I heare the throstle cocke,
Methinkes I heare the jaye, Methinkes I heare lord Barnards horne;
I would I were awaye.
Lye still, lye still, thou little Musgrave,
And huggle me from the cold; For it is but some shephardes boye
A whistling his sheepe to the fold.
Thy horse eating corne and haye?
And wouldst thou be awaye?
And lighted upon a stone:
And opened the dores eche one.
He lifted up the sheete;
Dost find my gaye ladye sweete?
The more is my griefe and paine;
That I were on yonder plaine.
And put thy cloathes nowe on,
That I killed a naked man.
I have two swordes in one scabbarde,
Full deare they cost my purse; And thou shalt have the best of them,
And I will have the worse.
The first stroke that little Musgrave strucke,
He hurt lord Barnard sore;
V. 64, Is whistling sheepe ore the mold. fol. MS.
The next stroke that lord Barnard strucke,
Little Musgrave never strucke more.
In bed whereas she laye,
Yet for thee I will praye:
So long as I have life;
100 He cut her pappes from off her brest;
Great pitye it was to see,
Run trickling downe her knee.
You never were borne for my goode:
When you sawe me wax so woode?
a grave, lord Barnard cryde,
115 For shee comes o' the better kin. * That the more modern copy is to be dated about the middle of the last century, will be readily conceived from the tenour of the concluding stanza, viz. " This sad Mischief by Lust was wrought:
Then let us call for Grace,
And fly from Sin a-pace.”
A SCOTTISH SONG.
This sonnet appears to be ancient: that and its simplicity of sentiment have recommended it to a place here.
Will ze gae to the ew-bughts, Marion,
And wear in the sheip wi' mee?
But nae half sae sweit as thee.
And the blyth blinks in her ee:
Gin Marion wad marrie mee..
Theire's gowd in zour garters, Marion;
And siller on zour white hauss-banel:
At eene quhan I cum hame.
Quba gape and glowr wi' their ee
Bot nane of them lues like mee.
Ive nine milk-ews, my Marion,
A cow and a brawney quay;
Just on her bridal day.
And waistcote o' London broun;
Quhaneir ze gang to the toun. 1 Hauss-bane, i. e. the neck-bone. Marion had probably a silver locket on, tied close to her neck with a riband, an usual ornament in Scotland. where a sore throat is called "a sair hause," properly halse.
Ime yong and stout, my Marion,
None dance lik mee on the greine;
Ise een gae draw up wi' Jeane.
And kirtle oth' cramasie,
I sall cum west, and see zee.
XIII. The Knight and Shepherd's Daughter. This ballad (given from an old black-letter copy, with some corrections) was popular in the time of Queen Elizabeth, being usually printed with her picture before it, as Hearne informs us in his preface to Gul. Newbrig. Hist. Oxon. 1719, 8vo, vol. i. p. lxx. It is quoted in Fletcher's comedy of The Pilgrim, act iv. sc. 1.
THERE was a shepherds daughter,
Came tripping on the waye;
Which caused her to staye.
Good morrowe to you, beauteous maide,
These words pronounced hee:
If Ive not my wille of thee.
That you shold waxe so wode!
He wold not be withstood.'
Sith you have had your wille of mee,
And put me to open shame,