Knight of Elle (3)

For other versions of this work, see Knight of Elle.

THE

Knight of Elle;

A Scarce and Favourite Old

Scotch Ballad.

GLASGOW:

PRINTED FOR THE BOOKSELLERS

Knight of Elle.

On yonder hill a Castle stands,
With walls and towers bedight.
And yonder lives the Child of Elle,
A young and comely Knight.

The Child of Elle to his garden went,
And stood at his garden Pale,
When, lo ——— he saw fair Emmeline,s page
Come tripping down the dale,

The Child of Elle he hy,d him thence
I wat he stood na still
And soon he met fair Emmeline's page
Come climbing up the hill

Now save thee save, thou little foot Page
Now come the saife and free
Oh tell me how does thy lady gay
And what may thy tydings be

My lady she is woe-begone
The tears they fa frae her eyne;
And aye' she laments the deadly feud
Between her house and thine.

And here she sends thee a silken scarf,
Bedew’d wi mony s tear

And bids thee sometimes think on her
Wha loved the sae dear

And here she sends thee a ring of gold
The last boon thou mayst have
And bids thee wear it for her sake,
Whan she is laid in grave.

Nor ah her gentle heart is broke
And in grave soon must she be
Sath her father and chose her a new love
And forbid her to think of thee.

Her father hath brought her a carlish knight,
Sir John of the north country,
And within three days she must him wed.
he vows he will her slay.

Now hy e thee back thou little foot page
And greet thy lady frae me
And tell her that I her own true love
Wilt die or set her free.

Now hye thee back thou little foot page:
And let thy fair lady know,
This night will I be at her bower-window
Betide me weal or woe

The boy he tripped the boy he ran
He neither stint nor stayed
Until he came to fair Emeline's bower;
Whan kneeling down he said:

Ah lady I've been with thy owm true love
And he greets thee well by me;
This night will he be at thy bower window,
And dye or set thee free.

Now day was gone and night was come
And a' were fast asleep,——
All save the Lady Emmeline,
Wha sat in her bower to weep.

And soon she heard her true love's voice
Now whispering at the wall,
Awake, awake, my dear lady:
Tis I thy true love call.

Awake, awake, my lady dear.
Come mount this fair palfray:
This ladder of ropes will let thee down,
I’ll carry thee hence away.

Nay now, now nay, thou gentle knight
Now nay this may not be;
For aye should I tint my maiden fame,
If alane I should wend with thee.

O lady! thou with a knight sae true
Mayst safely wend alone;
To my Lady Mother I will thee bring
Where marriage shall make us one

My father he is a baron bold,
Of lynage proud and hye;
And what would he say if his daughter
Away with a knight should fly?

Ah well I wot he ne'er cou’d rest
Nor his meat do him good,
Till he had slain thee Child of Elle,
And seen thy dear heart’s blood.

O lady wert thou in thy saddle set,
And once without this wall——
I would not care for thy cruel father
Nor the worst that might befal

Fair Emmeline sighed——fair Emmeline wept:
And aye her heart was woe:
At length he seized her lilly-white band
And down the ladder her drew.

And thrice he clasp'd her to his breast,
And kissed her tenderly:
The tears that fell from her fair eyne
Ran like the fountains down

He mounted himself on his steed sae tall,
And her on a fair palfray,
And slung his bugle about his neck,
And roundly they rode away.

All this beheard her own damsel,
In her bed whereas she lay;
Quoth she, my Lord shall know of this,
So I shall hae gold and fee.

Awake, awake, thou baron bold!
Awake, my noble dame!
Your daughter is fled wi’ the Child of Elle,
To do the deed of shame.

The baron he woke—the baron he rose
And called his merry men all:
And come thou forth Sir John the knight,
Thy lady is carried to thrall

Fair Emmeline scant had riddan a mile——
A mile forth of the town,
When she was aware of her father's men
Come galloping o’er the down:

And foremost came the carlish knight
Sir John of the north country,
Now stop, now stop thou false traitour,
Nor carry that lady away.

For she is come of hye lynage
And was of a ladye borne;
For it ill beseems thee, a false churle's son
To carry her hence to scorn.

Now loud thou lyest, Sir John the knight,
Now thou dost lye of me;
A knight me got——and a lady me bore,
Soe never did none by thee.

But light now down my lady fair,
Light down and hold my steed,
While I and this discourteous knight
Do try this arduous deed.

Fair Emmeline sighed, fair Emmeline wept,
and aye her heart was woe,
While ’twixt her love and the carlish knight
Past many a baleful blow.

The Child of Elle he fought so well,
As his weapon he waved amain,
That soon he had slain the cariish knight
And laid him upon the plain.

And now the baron and all his men
Full fast approached nigh:
Ah! what may Lady Emmeline do?
Twere now no boote to fly.

Her lover he put his horn to his mouth,
And blew baith loud and shrill;
And soon he saw his own merry men
Come ryding o'er the hill.

Now hold thy hand thou bo'd baron,
I pray thee hold thy hand,
Nor ruthless rend two gentle hearts
Fast knit in true love’s band.

Thy daughter I have dearly loved
Full long and many a day,
But with such love as holy kirk
Hath said we freely may.

O give consent——she may be mine,
And bless a faithful pair:
My lands and livings are not small,
My house and lynage fair.

The baron he stroakt his dark brown cheek,
And turned his head asyde
To wipe away the starting tear,
He proudly strave to hide.

In deep revolving thought he stood
And mused a little space;
Then raised fair Emmeline from the ground,
Wi’ mony a fond embrace.

Here take her, child of Elle, he sayd,
And gave her lily hand
Here—take my dear and only child
And with her half my land:

Thy father once mine honour wronged,
In days of youthful pride;
Do thou the injury repair
In fondness for thy bride.

And as thou love, and hold her dear,
Heaven prosper thee and thine:
And now my blessing wend wi‘ thee,
My lovely Emmeline.