Says, sell me this harp, thou proud harper, For as many gold nobles thou shalt have What would you do with my harp, he said, If I did sell it ye? To play my wife and me a fitt, † When abed together we be. Now sell me, quoth he, thy bride so gay, As she sits by thy knee, And as many gold nobles I will give As leaves been on a tree. And what would ye do with my bride so gay, If I did sell her thee? More seemly it is for her fair body To lie by me than thee. He played again both loud and shrill, O lady! this is thy own true love, O lady! this is thy own true love, The lady looked, the lady blushed, Up then rose the Kemperye men, And loud they 'gan to cry, * A piece of music. Ah! traitors, ye have slain our king, King Estmere threw the harp aside, And aye their swords so sore can bite, That soon they have slain the Kemperye men, Or forced them forth to flee. King Estmere took that fair lady, And married to his wife, And brought her home to merry England, * Quickly, immediately. SIR CAULINE. An old romantic legend, of which the copy in Dr. Percy's manuscript being inaccurate in many places, and having the appearance of being transcribed very faultily, he has added several stanzas, and completed it in a style answerable, in his judgment, to the original intent. Mr. Wordsworth has passed a high encomium on this, amongst other of Dr. Percy's works.-See his Supplementary Essay. IN Ireland, far over the sea, There dwelleth a bonny King; And with him a young and comely knight, The king had a lady to his daughter, Sir Cauline loveth her best of all, Nor descreeve + his counsel to no man, Till in a day it so befell, Great dill to him was dight, § The maiden's love removed his mind, To care-bed went the knight. * Mate,-consort. Describe, unfold. Maiden. Grief was laid on him. One while he spread his arms him fro', And when our parish Mass was done, Then answered him a courteous knight, Fetch me down my daughter dear, She is a leech † full fine, Go take him dough, and the baken bread, And serve him with the wine so red, Loth I were him to tine. ‡ Fair Christabelle to his chamber goes, * Ready. O sick, thou fair lady! lord? + Physician;-leechinge, any medicinal or surgical application. This expression is of universal occurrence in ancient writings, both prose and verse. It was a practice, derived from the Gothic and Celtic nations, for ladies even of the highest rank, to understand some principles of medicine and surgery, and especially to be prepared with ligaments, balms, and unguents, for the purpose of staunching and healing the wounds of their knights, or husbands. It is mentioned, says Dr. Percy, even so late as the time of Queen Elizabeth, among the accomplishments of the ladies of her court, that the "eldest of them are skilled in surgery." Many examples of this kind might be adduced from ancient romances and poems. See an interesting scene in Tasso, (Canto xix.), where the amiable Princess Erminia heals the wounds of her lover, Tancred. Lose. Now rise up wightly, man, for shame, For it is told in my father's hall, Fair lady, it is for your love For if you would comfort me with a kiss, Sir knight, my father is a king, Alas! and well you know, sir knight, O lady, thou art a king's daughter, But let me do some deeds of arms, Some deeds of arms if thou wilt do, My Bacheleere to be, But ever and aye my heart would rue Upon Eldridge hill there groweth a thorn Upon the moors brodinge, § And dare ye, sir knight, wake there all night, For the Eldridge || knight, so mickle of might, Will examine you beforne, And never man bare life away, * Suffer. tlf. But he did him scath and scorn. + Betrothed knight,-acknowledged lover. Pricking. Dr. PERCY. He has given no derivation. When applied to men, it signifies wild, hideous, &c.; places,--gloomy, lonesome, haunted. |