Зображення сторінки
PDF
ePub

SHE.

"Yes, I may tell and fret my sell
To think on those blyth days I had,
Whan I and he together ley

In armes into a well-made bed;

35

But now I sigh and may be sad,

Thy courage is cauld, thy colour wan,

Thou falds thy fect and fa's asleep;

Thou'lt nevir be like mine auld goodman."

40

Then coming was the night sae dark,

And gane was a' the light of day;
The carle was fear'd to miss his mark,
And therefore wad nae longer stay.
Then up he gat and ran his way,

I trowe, the wife the day she wan;
And aye the owreword of the fray

Was, "Evir alake! mine auld goodman!"

45

IV.

Fair Margaret and Sweet William.

This seems to be the old song quoted in Fletcher's Knight of the Burning Pestle, acts ii. and iii.; although the six lines there preserved are somewhat different from those in the ballad, as it stands at present. The reader will not wonder at this, when he is informed that this is only given from a modern printed copy picked up on a stall. Its full title is, "Fair Margaret's Misfortune; or, Sweet William's frightful dreams on his wedding-night, with the sudden death and burial of those noble lovers."

The lines preserved in the play are this distich,

"You are no love for me, Margaret,

I am no love for you."

And the following stanza,

"When it was grown to dark midnight,
And all were fast asleep,

In came Margarets grimly ghost
And stood at Williams feet."

These lines have acquired an importance by giving birth to one of the most beautiful ballads in our own or any language. See the song entitled Margaret's Ghost, at the end of this volume.

Since the first edition some improvements have been inserted, which were communicated by a lady of the first distinction, as she had heard this song repeated in her infancy.

As it fell out on a long summer's day,

Two lovers they sat on a hill;

They sat together that long summer's day,
And could not talk their fill.

"I see no harm by you, Margarèt,
And you see none by mee;

Before to-morrow at eight o' the clock

A rich wedding you shall see."

5

[blocks in formation]

When day was gone, and night was come,

And all men fast asleep,

Then came the spirit of Fair Margret,

And stood at Williams feet.

20

"Are you awake, sweet William ?" shee said,

[blocks in formation]

God give you joy of your gay bride-bed,

And me of my winding sheet."

When day was come, and night was gone,

25

And all men wak'd from sleep,

Sweet William to his lady sayd,

66

'My dear, I have cause to weep.

"I dreamt a dream, my dear ladyè,

Such dreames are never good:

I dreamt my bower was full of red wine,'
And my bride-bed full of blood."

Ver. 31, 35, swine. P.CC.

30

"Such dreams, such dreams, my honoured sir, They never do prove good;

[ocr errors]

To dream thy bower was full of red wine,'
And thy bride-bed full of blood."

He called up his merry men all,

By one, by two, and by three;

35

Saying, "I'll away to fair Margret's bower,

By the leave of my ladiè."

40

[blocks in formation]

Making most piteous mone,

"You may go kiss your jolly brown bride, And let our sister alone."

55

"If I do kiss my jolly brown bride,

I do but what is right;

I neer made a vow to yonder poor corpse,
By day, nor yet by night.

60

"Deal on, deal on, my merry men all,

Deal on your cake and your wine:

1

For whatever is dealt at her funeral to-day,

Shall be dealt to-morrow at mine."

[blocks in formation]

Margaret was buryed in the lower chancèl,
And William in the higher:

Out of her brest there sprang a rose,

And out of his a briar.

They grew till they grew unto the church top,
And then they could grow no higher;

70

And there they tyed in a true lovers knot,
Which made all the people admire.

75

[blocks in formation]

Given, with some corrections, from an old black-letter copy entitled, "Barbara Allen's cruelty, or the young man's tragedy."

IN Scarlet towne, where I was borne,
There was a faire maid dwellin,
Made every youth crye, Wel-awaye!
Her name was Barbara Allen.

All in the merrye month of May,

When greene buds they were swellin,

5

Yong Jemmye Grove on his death-bed lay,
For love of Barbara Allen.

[blocks in formation]

66 Though death be printed on his face,
And ore his harte is stealin,
Yet little better shall he bee

For bonny Barbara Allen."

So slowly, slowly, she came up,

And slowly she came nye him;

And all she sayd, when there she came, "Yong man, I think y'are dying."

He turnd his face unto her strait,

66

With deadlye sorrow sighing; "O lovely maid, come pity mee, Ime on my death-bed lying."

"If on your death-bed you doe lye,
What needs the tale you are tellin ?
I cannot keep you from your death;
Farewell," sayd Barbara Allen.

He turnd his face unto the wall,

As deadlye pangs he fell in:
"Adieu! adieu! adieu to you all,
Adieu to Barbara Allen!'

As she was walking ore the fields,
She heard the bell a knellin;
And every stroke did seem to saye,
Unworthy Barbara Allen!"

66

She turned her bodye round about,

66

And spied the corps a coming:

'Laye down, laye down the corps," she sayd,
"That I may look upon him."

With scornful eye she looked downe,
Her cheeke with laughter swellin,
Whilst all her friends cryd out amaine,
"Unworthye Barbara Allen!"

When he was dead, and laid in grave,
Her harte was struck with sorrowe;

"O mother, mother, make my bed,

For I shall dye to-morrowe.

20

25

30

35

40

45

50

« НазадПродовжити »