I have not been able to meet with a more ancient copy of this humorous old song, than that printed in the Tea-Table Miscellany,' &c. which seems to have admitted some corruptions. LATE in an evening forth I went A little before the sun gade down, A man and his wife were fawn in a strife, But aye she wail'd her wretched life, HE. Thy auld goodman, that thou tells of, Was but a silly poor vagabond, And ilka ane leugh him to scorn: For he did spend and make an end Of gear [his fathers nevir] wan; 5 10 He gart the poor stand frae the door; 15 SHE. My heart, alake! is liken to break, Whan I think on my winsome John, His blinkan ee, and gait sae free, Was naithing like thee, thou dosend drone; 20 Wi' his rosie face, and flaxen hair, And skin as white as ony swan, D He was large and tall, and comely withall; HE. Why dost thou plein? I thee maintein; Now whan our gear gins to grow scant: SHE. Yes I may tell, and fret my sell, Whan I and he together ley In armes into a well-made bed: But now I sigh and may be sad, Thy courage is cauld, thy colour wan, Thou falds thy feet and fa's asleep; Thou 'lt nevir be like mine auld goodman. 40 Then coming was the night sae dark, I trowe, the wife the day she wan; Was 'Evir alake! mine auld goodman.' 45 IV. FAIR MARGARET AND SWEET WILLIAM. This seems to be the old song quoted in Fletcher's 'Knight of the Burning Pestle,' Acts 2d and 3d; altho' the six lines there preserved are somewhat different from those in the ballad, as it stands at present. The reader will not wonder at this, when he is informed that this is only given from a modern printed copy picked up on a stall. It's full title is Fair Margaret's Misfortunes; or Sweet William's frightful dreams on his wedding night, with the sudden death and burial of those noble lovers.' The lines preserved in the play are this distich, "You are no love for me, Margaret, I am no love for you.' And the following stanza, "When it was grown to dark midnight, In came Margarets grimly ghost And stood at Williams feet.' These lines have acquired an importance by giving birth to one of the most beautiful ballads in our own or any language. See the song intitled 'Margaret's Ghost,' at the end of this volume. Since the first edition some improvements have been inserted, which were communicated by a lady of the first distinction, as she had heard this song repeated in her infancy. As it fell out on a long summer's day 'I see no harm by you, Margarèt, And you see none by mee; Before to-morrow at eight o' the clock A rich wedding you shall see.' Fair Margaret sat in her bower-window, There she spyed sweet William and his bride, 10 Then down she layd her ivory combe, And braided her hair in twain: She went alive out of her bower, But ne'er came alive in 't again. When day was gone, and night was come, Then came the spirit of fair Margret, And stood at Williams feet. Are you awake, sweet William?' shee said; Or, sweet William, are you asleep? God give you joy of your gay bride-bed, When day was come, and night was gone, I dreamt a dream, my dear ladyè, I dreamt my bower was full of red [wine], 'Such dreams, such dreams, my honoured Sir, To dream thy bower was full of red [wine], And thy bride-bed full of blood.' He called up his merry men all, By one, by two, and by three; Saying, 'I'll away to fair Margret's bower, Ver. 31, 35, Swine, PCC. 15 20 25 30 35 40 And when he came to fair Margret's bower, And who so ready as her seven brethrèn To let sweet William in. Then he turned up the covering-sheet, I'll do more for thee, Margaret, For I will kiss thy pale wan lips, With that bespake the seven brethren, 'You may go kiss your jolly brown bride, 'If I do kiss my jolly brown bride, I do but what is right; I neer made a vow to yonder poor corpse By day, nor yet by night. Deal on, deal on, my merry men all, Deal on your cake and your wine1: For whatever is dealt at her funeral to-day, Fair Margaret dyed to-day, to-day, 1 Alluding to the dole anciently given at funerals. |