There are manye that are my friendes, mother; But were every one my foe, Betide me life, betide me death, To lord Thomas his wedding I'ld goe. 40 She cloathed herself in gallant attire, And her merrye men all in greene; And as they rid through every towne, They took her to be some queene. But when she came to lord Thomas his gate, 45 She knocked there at the ring; And who was so readye as lord Thomàs, To lett faire Ellinor in. Is this your bride, fair Ellinor sayd? Methinks she looks wonderous browne; 50 Thou mightest have had as faire a woman, Despise her not, fair Ellin, he sayd, Despise her not unto mee; For better I love thy little finger, Than all her whole bodèe. This browne bride had a little penknife, That was both long and sharpe, And betwixt the short ribs and the long, She prick'd faire Ellinor's harte. 55 60 O Christ O Christ thee save, lord Thomas, hee sayd, Oh, art thou blind, lord Thomas? she sayd, 65 Oh! dost thou not see my owne hearts bloode Run trickling down my knee. Lord Thomas he had a sword by his side; As he walked about the halle, ΤΟ He cut off his brides head from her shoulders, He set the hilte against the grounde, And the point against his harte. There never three lovers together did meete, 75. That sooner againe did parte. ***The reader will find a Scottish song on a similar subject to this, towards the end of this volume, intitled, "LORD THOMAS AND LADY Annet.” XVI. CUPID AND CAMPASPE. This elegant little sonnet is found in the third act of an old play, intitled, "Alexander and Campaspe," writ ten by John Lilye, a celebrated writer in the time of queen Elizabeth. That play was first printed in 1591: but this copy is given from a later edition. CUPID and my Campaspe playd Growing on's cheek (but none knows how), O Love! has she done this to thee? XVII. THE LADY TURNED SERVING-MAN, is given from a written copy, containing some improvements (perhaps modern ones), upon the popular ballad, intitled, "The famous flower of Serving-men: "or the Lady turned Serving-man." You beauteous ladyes, great and small, I was by birth a lady faire, An ancient barons only heire, 5 And when my good old father dyed, Then I became a young knightes bride. And there my love built me a bower, And there I livde a ladye gay, Till fortune wrought our loves decay; 10 15 They They came upon us in the night, And brent my bower, and slew my knight; I scant with life escap'd away. In the midst of this extremitìe, My servants all did from me flee : Yet though my heart was full of care, And therewithall I cut my haire, At length all wearied with my toil, That downe my cheeke the teares did flow. It chanc'd the king of that same place 20 25 30 35 40 Then |