Fisherman's garland, or, The cruel knight (2)

THE

FISHERMAN'S

GARLAND;

OR, THE

CRUEL KNIGHT.

IN FOUR PARTS.

Part I. The FARMER’S DAUGHTER born
to be the KNIGHT'S BRIDE.

Part II. Striving to alter what Fortune had decreed.

Part III. How the secret was discovered.

Part IV. Concerning with their happy Marriage.

Edinburgh: printed by J. Morren, Cowgate.

THE FISHERMAN’S GARLAND.

PART I.

IN famous York city, a farmer did dwell,
Who was beloved of all his neighbours full well.
He had a good wife that was virtuous and fair,
And by her be had a child every year.
⁠In seven years time, six children they had,
Which wade both the father and mothers heart glad
Bat in a little time as I can hear say,
The Farmer in wealth and in flock did decay,
⁠Although that once and he had riches great store,
In a little time after he quickly grew poor;
He strove all t»« could, but alas! could not thrive,
He hardly could keep his poor children alive.
⁠For children came faster than silver or gold,
His wife she conceived again again as I’m told,
A»d when her time came on to hard labour she fell,
Now if you’ll mind a strange wonder I'll tell.
⁠A noble rich Knight did chance to ride by.
And hearing this woman shrieking to cry.
He being well learned in plannets and sighs,
Locked on a book that’d perplexed his mind.
⁠The more he looked on it the more he did read,
And found that fare the young child had decreed,
That was born in that house the same hour and tide,
He found it was he that most needs be his bride.
⁠But judge how the knight was perplexed in mind.
When in that book his own lirtuae did find.
Then homeward he rode, being sorely opprest.
From that very moment he would not take rest,
⁠All night he did tumble and toss in his bed,
And a very strange project did run his head
Resolved be was very quickly indeed,
To alter the fortune the found was decree'd.

PART II.

With a murdering heart next morning he rose
And unto the house of the farmer he goes
And asked the man with a heart full of spite
If the child was alive that was born last night.
⁠Worthy Sir, Cays the farmer, although I am poor,
I had one born last night and fix long before;
Four sons and three daughters I have now alive.
Which are in good health and likely to thrive,
⁠The Knight he replied of the seven you have
Let me have the youngest, I’ll keep her most brave;
For you. very well; with one daughter may spare.
Which if you will grant, I will make her my heir.
⁠For I am a Knight of a noble degree,
And if you will part.with your child unto me,
Full three hundred pounds unto you I will give,
When I from you hands your daughter receive,
⁠The father and mother with tears in their eyes.
Hearing this kind offer they were in surprise,
But being him a knight both gallant and gay,
They presented the infant without more delay
⁠Then they spoke unto him with words very mild
We beseech you good sir to be kind to our child,
You need not fear it the Knight he did say,
For I will maintain bar both gallant and gay.
⁠So with the sweet babe away he did tide,
Until that he came to a broad river side,
Being cruelly bent he resolved indeed,
To drown the young infant that moment with speed
⁠Said he, if you live, you must needs be my wife,
But I am resolv'd to deprive you of life
For till you are dead no other can have;
Therefore you shall ly in a wat’ry grave.
⁠When he had spoke these words, that moment then
And threw the sweet babe into the river straight away
And being well pleased with what We had done,
He leap'd on hi horse and quickly went home.
⁠But mark how kind Fortune did further provide.
The child she was driven on her hack by the tides,
There was a man sitting as Fortune would have.
Which saw the child floating upon the salt waves.
⁠He soon took her out and was in amaze
He kiss’d her and bless her and on her did gaze,
And seeing he ne’er had a child in his life,
He presently carry’d her home to his wife,
⁠His wife was well pleased the child for to see,
And said, my dear huband, be ruled by me,
Since we’ve ne’er bad a child if you’ll let me alone,
We’ll keep the sweet babe and tall it our own.
⁠The goodman consented as I have been told,
And spared neither bright silver nor gold,
Until she was aged eleven full years,
And then her sweet beauty began to appear,

P A R T III

THE fisherman was one time at an inn,
And several gentlemen drinking with him
His wife sent the girl to call her man home,
Set when she'did into the drinking room come,
⁠The gentlemen all were amazed to see,
The Fisherman’s Daughter so full of Beauty,
They asked him quickly if she was his own:
Who told the whole story before he went home
⁠As I was a bathing within my own bound,
On a monday morning this sweet Babe I found;
’Tis eleven years past since her life I did save,
Or else she had lain in a watery grave
⁠The cruel knight was in the same company,
And seeing the fisherman tell the story,
He was vex’d to the heart to see her alive.
And how to destroy her again did contrive.
He spoke to the Goodman, and tinade him said,
If you will part with this pretty young Maid,
I’ll give you whatever your heart can desire,
For she in good time to great riches will rise.
⁠The Fisherman answer'd with a model grace,
I cannot unless my dear wife was in place
Get first her consent, and you'd have it off me.
And than to go with you, good Sir, she is free.
⁠He got his Wife’s leave & the girl, with a him went
But little they thought of his cruel interest;
He kept her a month very bravely they say,
And then he contrived to wake her away.
⁠For he had a brother in fair Lancashire,
A noble rich man of two thousand a year;
He sent this young Damsel into him with speed,
Hoping he would act a most barbarous deed,
⁠He sent a man with her, wife as they say,
But as they did lodge at an inn by the way,
A thief in the house with an evil intent;
To rob the portmanteau immediately went.
⁠But the thief was amazed when he could not find
neither clothes, gold nor silver, and went to his mind
But only a letter and which her did read,
And he pet an end to this barbarous deed.
⁠But he wrote to hit brother the very same day,
To put the young innocent maiden away.
With sword, or with poison, that very same night,
And not let her live till the next morning light,
⁠When the thief read the letter he had so much grace
To tear it and write in the very same place,
“Dear brother, Receive this young maiden of me,
"And bring her well up as a maiden should be:
⁠“Let her be concerned, dear Brother, I pray,
"Let servants attend her by night and by day,
“For she is a lady of noble great worth,
"No nobler Lady e’er liv’d in the North,
⁠“Let her have good learning, dear brother, I (illegible text)
“And you for the same I'll sufficiently pay,
“So loving Brother, my letter I end,
“Subscribing myself your dear Brother and Friend,
⁠The Maid and her servant were both innocent,
So on their Journey away them they went.
Before the sunset, to the house they did come,
Where the servant did leave her and returned home,
⁠There she was received very bravely indeed,
Both man and maid servants to serve her indeed, and
There she continued for a whole twelve months hence
Till the cruel knight came to the same place.
⁠As he and his brother together did talk,
Seeing this maiden in the garden to walk,
She looked most beautiful, pleasant and gay,
Like to fair Aurora the Goddess of May,
⁠When that he saw her then a passion did fly,
And said very angry, "O Brother, O fy!"
Why did thou not do as the letter I wrote
The Brother reply'd it is done every bit,
⁠Then no, said the Knight, it is not as I sae,
Therefore she shall back (illegible text) go then with me
But the Brother showed him the letter that day,
Then the Knight was amazed and nothing did say,

P A R T IV.

A LITTLE time after he took her away,
And with her he rode till he came to the sea.
Then he looked on her with anger and spite,
And spoke to the Virgin, and bade her alight,
⁠The maid from her horse she immediately went,
And trembled to think what was his in ear;
Tremble not, says he, for this hour is your last,
Then pull off your clothes I command you with haste
⁠This Maiden with tears on her knees she did cry
"Oh! What have I done, Sir, that now I must die,"
O let me but know how I did thee offend,
And I'll study each day for to make you amends.
⁠O spare but my life and I'll wander the earth,
And never come near you while that I have breath,
He hearing the pitiful moan she did make
Then from his finger a ring he did take;
⁠He spoke to the maiden and thus to her did say,
The ring in the water I'll now throw away,
Pray look on it well for she spoke in plane,
That when once you see it you may know it again.
⁠I charge you for it never come in my sight,
For if that yon so I will owe you a spite,
Unless that you bring the fame ring unto me,
With that he let the ring drop into the sea,
⁠Than from the young woman away he did go,
And left her to wander in sorrow and woe;
She travell'd till night and at last did espy,
A homely poor cottage and asked relief
⁠Being hungry and cold with a heart full of grief,
She went to the cottage and asked relief,
The people believed as I do hear say
And got her to service the very next day,
⁠In a gentlemen's house not far from the place,
Where she did behave herself with a modest grace,
She was a cook maid and forgot all things past,
But here a strange story now comes out at last.
⁠As she a rich dinner was dressing one day
And opening the head the head of a cod as they say,
She found a rich ring and was struck with amaze,
And then she with wonder upon it did gaze.
⁠She knew it well and found it to be,
The very same ring that he threw in the sea;
She smiled when she saw it and blest her kind fate
But she did to so reassure the secret relate,
⁠The Maid in her service did all others excel,
Her lady took notice, and liked her so well
She said, she Was born of some noble degree,
And too her, her own chief companion to he.
⁠The cruel knight to the same place he came
A little time after with persons of fame.
But was struck to the heart when he there did behold
This charming y nag Virgin, to repeutes of gold,
⁠Then he asked the lady to grant him a fee,
He said, ’Twas to talk with this virgin alone;
The lady consented and told the young Maid,
Who quickly consented but sorely afraid.
⁠As soon-as they saw her, then strumpet, says he,
O did I not charge thee ae’er more to see me
Thi home is you last to the World bid good night,
For being so hold as appear in my sight
⁠Said she, In the inn- Sir, you threw your own ring,
And bid me ne’er see you, unless I could bring,
That ring unto you, I have it, said she
Behold it's the same you did throw in the sea.
⁠When the Knight saw the ring he flew ta her arms
He kiss’d her and swore she had millions of charms;
Said he, My dear creature, I pray pardon me.
Who have often contrived thy ruin to be,
⁠'Tis vain for to (illegible text) what fate has been decreed.
For I find thou was born to be my sweet bride,
They swiftly were married, as I do hear say,
And now she’s a Lady both gallant and gay.
⁠Then they with haste to her parents did come,
When he told the whole story before he had done,
And asked their pardon upon his bare knee.
Which they gave, & rejoined their daughter to see,
⁠Then for the fisherman and his Wife seat,
And for their past trouble did give them content:
Then there was great joy by all those that did see,
The Farmer's young Daughter a Lady to be,

⟨F I N I S.⟩