VII. GLASGERION. An ingenious Friend thinks that the following old Ditty (which is printed from the Editor's folio MS.) may possibly have given birth to the Tragedy of the ORPHAN, in which Polidore intercepts Monimia's intended favours to Castalio. See what is said concerning the hero of this song, (who is celebrated by CHAUCER under the name of GLASKYRION) in the Essay prefixed to Vol. I. Note H. Pt. IV. (2.) GLASGERION GERION was a kings owne sonne, He harped in the kinges chambere, And soe did hee in the queens chamber, 5 Till ladies waxed' glad.' And then bespake the kinges daughter; Faire might he fall, ladye, quoth hee, I have loved you, ladye, seven longe yeere My minde I neere durst breake. But come to my bower, my Glasgeriòn, When all men are att rest: As I am a ladie true of my promise, Thou shalt bee a welcome guest. 20 Home then came Glasgèrion, A glad man, lord! was hee. And, come thou hither, Jacke my boy; Come hither unto mee. For the kinges daughter of Normandye 25 Hath granted mee my boone: And att her chambere must I bee Beffore the cocke have crowen. O master, master, then quoth hee, But up then rose that lither ladd, And hose and shoone did on : A coller he cast upon his necke, Hee seemed a gentleman. Ver. 16. harte, MS. 335 And 30 15 And when he came to the ladies chamber, He thrild upon a pinn*. The lady was true of her promise, Rose up and lett him in. He did not take the lady gaye To boulster nor to bed: 'Nor thoughe hee had his wicked wille, 'A single word he sed.' He did not kisse that ladyes mouthe, Nor when he came, nor youd : And sore mistrusted that ladye gay, He was of some churls bloud. 40 45 But home then came that lither ladd, And did off his hose and shoone; 50 Awake, awake, my deere master, Awake, awake, my master deere, I hold it time to be gone. 55 This is elsewhere expressed twirled the pin' or tirled at the pin' [See B. II. S. VI. v. 3.] and seems to refer to the turning round the button on the outside of a door, by which the latch rises, still used in cottages. For For I have saddled your horsse, mastèr, And I have served you a good breakfast : 60 Glasgèrion swore a full great othe, Lady, I was never in your chambèr, O then it was your lither foot-page, He hath beguiled mee. Then shee pulled forth a litle pen-kniffe, That hanged by her knee: 75 80 Ver. 77. litle, MS. Sayes, Sayes, there shall never noe churles blood Within my bodye spring: No churlès blood shall ever defile The daughter of a kinge. Home then went Glasgèrion, And woe, good lord, was hee. Sayes, come thou hither, Jacke my boy, Come hither unto mee. 85 If I had killed a man to night, Jacke, I would tell it thee: 90 But if I have not killed a man to night, |