第23章

'I, that have so many slighted, Am at length so well requited;For my griefs are not a few!

Now I find what love can do.

'He that has my heart in keeping, Though I for his sake be weeping, Little knows what grief I feel;But I'll try it out with steel.

'For I will a challenge send him, And appoint where I'll attend him, In a grove, without delay, By the dawning of the day.

'He shall not the least discover That I am a virgin lover, By the challenge which I send;But for justice I contend.

'He has caused sad distraction, And I come for satisfaction, Which if he denies to give, One of us shall cease to live.'

Having thus her mind revealed, She her letter closed and sealed;Which, when it came to his hand, The young man was at a stand.

In her letter she conjured him For to meet, and well assured him, Recompence he must afford, Or dispute it with the sword.

Having read this strange relation, He was in a consternation;But, advising with his friend, He persuades him to attend.

'Be of courage, and make ready, Faint heart never won fair lady;In regard it must be so, I along with you must go.'

PART III.

SHOWING HOW THEY MET BY APPOINTMENT IN A GROVE, WHERE SHE OBLIGEDHIM TO FIGHT OR WED HER.

Early on a summer's morning, When bright Phoebus was adorning Every bower with his beams, The fair lady came, it seems.

At the bottom of a mountain, Near a pleasant crystal fountain, There she left her gilded coach, While the grove she did approach.

Covered with her mask, and walking, There she met her lover talking With a friend that he had brought;So she asked him whom he sought.

'I am challenged by a gallant, Who resolves to try my talent;Who he is I cannot say, But I hope to show him play.'

'It is I that did invite you, You shall wed me, or I'll fight you, Underneath those spreading trees;Therefore, choose you which you please.

'You shall find I do not vapour, I have brought my trusty rapier;Therefore, take your choice,' said she, 'Either fight or marry me.'

Said he, 'Madam, pray what mean you?

In my life I've never seen you;

Pray unmask, your visage show, Then I'll tell you aye or no.'

'I will not my face uncover Till the marriage ties are over;Therefore, choose you which you will, Wed me, sir, or try your skill.

'Step within that pleasant bower, With your friend one single hour;Strive your thoughts to reconcile, And I'll wander here the while.'

While this beauteous lady waited, The young bachelors debated What was best for to be done:

Quoth his friend, 'The hazard run.

'If my judgment can be trusted, Wed her first, you can't be worsted;If she's rich, you'll rise to fame, If she's poor, why! you're the same.'

He consented to be married;

All three in a coach were carried To a church without delay, Where he weds the lady gay.

Though sweet pretty Cupids hovered Round her eyes, her face was covered With a mask, - he took her thus, Just for better or for worse.

With a courteous kind behaviour, She presents his friend a favour, And withal dismissed him straight, That he might no longer wait.

PART IV.

SHOWING HOW THEY RODE TOGETHER IN HER GILDED COACH TO HER NOBLESEAT, OR CASTLE, ETC.

As the gilded coach stood ready, The young lawyer and his lady Rode together, till they came To her house of state and fame;Which appeared like a castle, Where you might behold a parcel Of young cedars, tall and straight, Just before her palace gate.

Hand in hand they walked together, To a hall, or parlour, rather, Which was beautiful and fair, -All alone she left him there.

Two long hours there he waited Her return; - at length he fretted, And began to grieve at last, For he had not broke his fast.

Still he sat like one amazed, Round a spacious room he gazed, Which was richly beautified;But, alas! he lost his bride.

There was peeping, laughing, sneering, All within the lawyer's hearing;But his bride he could not see;

'Would I were at home!' thought he.

While his heart was melancholy, Said the steward, brisk and jolly, 'Tell me, friend, how came you here?

You've some bad design, I fear.'

He replied, 'Dear loving master, You shall meet with no disaster Through my means, in any case, -Madam brought me to this place.'

Then the steward did retire, Saying, that he would enquire Whether it was true or no:

Ne'er was lover hampered so.

Now the lady who had filled him With those fears, full well beheld him From a window, as she dressed, Pleased at the merry jest.

When she had herself attired In rich robes, to be admired, She appeared in his sight, Like a moving angel bright.

'Sir! my servants have related, How some hours you have waited In my parlour, - tell me who In my house you ever knew?'

'Madam! if I have offended, It is more than I intended;A young lady brought me here:' -

'That is true,' said she, 'my dear.

'I can be no longer cruel To my joy, and only jewel;Thou art mine, and I am thine, Hand and heart I do resign!

'Once I was a wounded lover, Now these fears are fairly over;By receiving what I gave, Thou art lord of what I have.'

Beauty, honour, love, and treasure, A rich golden stream of pleasure, With his lady he enjoys;Thanks to Cupid's kind decoys.

Now he's clothed in rich attire, Not inferior to a squire;Beauty, honour, riches' store, What can man desire more?

Ballad: THE NOBLEMAN'S GENEROUS KINDNESS.

Giving an account of a nobleman, who, taking notice of a poor man's industrious care and pains for the maintaining of his charge of seven small children, met him upon a day, and discoursing with him, invited him, and his wife and his children, home to his house, and bestowed upon them a farm of thirty acres of land, to be continued to him and his heirs for ever.

To the tune of THE TWO ENGLISH TRAVELLERS.

[THIS still popular ballad is entitled in the modern copies, THENOBLEMAN AND THRASHER; OR, THE GENEROUS GIFT. There is a copy preserved in the Roxburgh Collection, with which our version has been collated. It is taken from a broadside printed by Robert Marchbank, in the Custom-house Entry, Newcastle.]