The Book of Old English Ballads Part 12

SHE

Whatever befall, I never shall Of this thing you upbraid: But if ye go, and leave me so, Then have ye me betrayed.

Remember you wele, how that ye dele; For, if ye, as ye said, Be so unkind, to leave behind, Your love, the Nut-brown Maid, Trust me truly, that I shall die Soon after ye be gone; For, in my mind, of all mankind I love but you alone.

HE

If that ye went, ye should repent; For in the forest now I have purvayed me of a maid, Whom I love more than you; Another fayrere, than ever ye were, I dare it wele avow; And of you both each should be wroth With other, as I trow: It were mine ease, to live in peace; So will I, if I can; Wherefore I to the wood will go, Alone, a banished man.

SHE

Though in the wood I understood Ye had a paramour, All this may nought remove my thought, But that I will be your: And she shall find me soft and kind, And courteys every hour; Glad to fulfil all that she will Command me to my power: For had ye, lo! an hundred mo, Of them I would be one; For, in my mind, of all mankind I love but you alone.

HE

Mine own dear love, I see the proof That ye be kind and true; Of maid, and wife, in all my life, The best that ever I knew.

Be merry and glad, be no more sad, The case is changed new; For it were ruth, that, for your truth, Ye should have cause to rue.

Be not dismayed, whatsoever I said To you, when I began; I will not to the green wood go, I am no banished man.

SHE

These tidings be more glad to me, Than to be made a queen, If I were sure they should endure: But it is often seen, When men will break promise, they speak The wordes on the splene.

Ye shape some wile me to beguile, And steal from me, I ween: Then, were the case worse than it was, And I more wo-begone: For, in my mind, of all mankind I love but you alone.

HE

Ye shall not nede further to drede; I will not disparage You, (G.o.d defend!) sith ye descend Of so great a lineage.

Now understand; to Westmoreland, Which is mine heritage, I will you bring; and with a ring, By way of marriage I will you take, and lady make, As shortly as I can: Thus have you won an erly's son, And not a banished man.

AUTHOR

Here may ye see, that women be In love, meek, kind, and stable; Let never man reprove them then, Or call them variable; But, rather, pray G.o.d that we may To them be comfortable; Which sometime proveth such, as he loveth, If they be charitable.

For sith men would that women should Be meek to them each one; Much more ought they to G.o.d obey, And serve but Him alone.

The Fause Lover

A fair maid sat in her bower door, Wringing her lily hands; And by it came a sprightly youth, Fast tripping o'er the strands.

"Where gang ye, young John," she says, "Sae early in the day?

It gars me think, by your fast trip, Your journey's far away."

He turn'd about wi' surly look, And said, "What's that to thee?

I'm ga'en to see a lovely maid, Mair fairer far than ye."

"Now hae ye play'd me this, fause love, In simmer, 'mid the flowers?

I shall repay ye back again, In winter, 'mid the showers."

"But again, dear love, and again, dear love, Will ye not turn again?

For as ye look to ither women, I shall do to other men."

"Make your choice o' whom you please, For I my choice will have; I've chosen a maid more fair than thee, I never will deceive."

But she's kilt up her claithing fine, And after him gaed she; But aye he said, "Ye'll turn again, Nae farder gae wi' me."

"But again, dear love, and again, dear love, Will ye never love me again?

Alas! for loving you sae well, And you na me again."

The firstan' town that they came till, He bought her brooch and ring; But aye he bade her turn again, And gang nae farder wi' him.

"But again, dear love, and again, dear love," etc.

The nextan' town that they came till, He bought her m.u.f.f and gloves; But aye he bade her turn again, And choose some other loves.

"But again, dear love, and again, dear love," etc.

The nextan' town that they came till, His heart it grew mair fain; And he was deep in love wi' her.

As she was ower again.

The nextan' town that they came till, He bought her wedding gown; And made her lady o' ha's and bowers, In sweet Berwick town.

The Mermaid

To yon fause stream that, near the sea, Hides mony an elf and plum, And rives wi' fearful din the stanes, A witless knicht did come.

The day s.h.i.+nes clear--far in he's gane Whar sh.e.l.ls are silver bright, Fishes war loupin' a' aroun', And sparklin' to the light.

Whan, as he laved, sounds cam sae sweet Frae ilka rock an' tree; The brief was out, 'twas him it doomed The mermaid's face to see.

Frae 'neath a rock, sune, sune she rose, And stately on she swam, Stopped i' the midst, and becked and sang To him to stretch his han'.

Gowden glist the yellow links That round her neck she'd twine; Her een war o' the skyie blue, Her lips did mock the wine;