The CRUEL KNIGHT
And the Fortunate Farmers Daughter.
PART I.
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IN famous York-city a farmer did dwell,
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Who was beloved by his neighbours well,
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He had a wife that was virtuous and fair,
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And by her he had a young child every year.
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In seven years six children he had,
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Which made their parents hearts full glad,
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But in short time, as we do hear say,
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This farmer in wealth and stock did decay.
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Altho at once he had riches store,
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In a little time he grew very poor,
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He strove all he could, but alas! could not thrive,
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Nor hardly keep his children alive.
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But Children came faster than silver or gold,
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For his wife conceived again, we are told.
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And when the time came, in hard labour she fell;
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But if you will mind, an odd story Ill tell.
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A noble rich knight by chance did ride by,
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And hearing this woman shriek, and cry,
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He being well learnd in the planets and signs,
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Did look in the book, which puzzled his mind.
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For the more he did look, the more he did read,
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And found that the fates the child had decreed,
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Who was born in that house, that same tide,
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He found it was she that must be his bride.
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But judge how the Knight was disturbed in mind,
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When he in that book his fortune did find;
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He quickly rode home, and was sorely opprest,
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From that sad moment he could take no rest,
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At night he did tumble and toss in his bed,
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And very strange projects came into his head,
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Then he was resolved, and soon tryd indeed
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To alter the fortune he found was decreed.
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With a a vexing heart next morning he rose,
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And so to the house of the farmer he goes;
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And askd the man, with a heart full of spite,
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If the child was alive that was born the last night.
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Worthy sir, said the farmer, altho I am poor,
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I had one born last night, and six before;
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Four sons and three daughters I now have alive,
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They are in good health, and are likely to thrive.
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The knight replyd, If that seven you have,
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Let me have the youngest, Ill keep it most brave;
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For you very well one daughter may spare,
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And when I die Ill make her my heir.
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For I am a knight of a noble degree,
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And if you will part with the child unto me,
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Full three thousand pounds Ill unto thee give,
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[W]hen I from your hand your daughter receive.
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The father and mother, with tears in their eyes,
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Did hear this kind offer, and were in a surprize;
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And seeing the knight was so noble and gay,
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Presented the infant unto him that day.
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But they spake to him, with words most mild,
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We besetch thee, good sir, be kind to our child;
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You need not feer, the knight he did say,
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I will maintain her both gallant and gay
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So with this sweet babe away he did ride,
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Until he came to a broad rivers side;
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Being cruelly bent, he resolved indeed,
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To drown the young infant that day with speed.
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Saying, If you live you must be my wife,
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But I am resolved to bereave you of life:
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For till you are dead I no comfort can have,
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Wherefore you shall lie in a watery grave.
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In saying of this, that moment, they say,
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He flung the babe into the river straitway,
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And being will pleasd, when this he had done.
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He leapt on his horse, and strait he rode home.
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But mind how good fortune for her did provide,
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She was drove safe on her back by the tide,
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Where a man was fishing, as fortune would have,
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When she was a-floating along with the waves.
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He took her up, but was in amaze,
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He kissd her and pressd her, and on her did gaze,
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And he having neer a child in his life,
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He strait did carry her home to his wife.
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His wife was pleased the child to see,
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And said, My dear husband, he ruled by me;
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Since we have no child, if youll let me alone,
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We will keep this, and call it our own.
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The good man consented, as we have been told,
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And spared for neither silver nor gold,
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Until she was eleven full year.
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And then her sweet beauty began to appear.
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PART II.
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THE fisherman was one day at an inn,
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And several gentlemen drinking with him,
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His wife sent this girl to call her husband home,
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But when she into the drinking-room came,
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The gentleman there were amazed to see,
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The fishermans daughter so full of beauty.
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They asked him then, If she was his own?
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And he told them the story before he went home.
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As I was a-fishing within my own bound,
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One Monday-morning, this sweet babe [I] found,
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Or else she had lain in a watery grave,
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And this was the account which now he gave.
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The cruel knight was in the company,
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And hearing the fisherman tell this story,
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He was vexd at the heart to see her alive,
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And how to destroy her he again did contrive.
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Then spoke the knight, and unto him said,
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If you will but part with this sweet maid,
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Ill give you whatever your heart can devise,
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For she in time to great riches may rise.
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The fisherman answerd with a modest grace,
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I cannot, unless my dear wife were in place:
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Get first her consent, you shall have mine of me,
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And then to go with you, sir, she is free.
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The wife she did also as freely consent,
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But little they thought of his intent:
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He kept her a month very bravely they say,
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And then he contrived to make her away.
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He had a great brother in fair Lancashire,
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A noble rich man, worth ten thousand a year,
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And he sent this girl unto him with speed,
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In hopes he would act a most cruel deed.
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He sent a man with her likewise, they say,
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But as they did lodge at an inn on the way,
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A thief in the house, with an evil intent,
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To rob the portmanteau immediately went.
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But the thief was amazed, when he could not find,
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Either silver or gold, or ought to his mind;
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But only a letter, the which he did read,
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And soon put an end to this tragical deed.
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The knight had wrote to his brother that day,
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To make this poor innocent damsel away,
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With sword, or with poison, that every same night.
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And not let her live till the morning light.
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The thief read the letter, and had so much grace,
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To tear it, and wrote in the very same place,
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Dear brother, receive this maiden from me,
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And bring her up well, ae a maiden should be,
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Let her he esteemed, dear brother, I pray,
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Let servants attend her by night and by day.
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For she is a lady of noble worth,
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A nobler lady neer livd in the North,
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Let her have good learning, dear brother, I pray,
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And for the same I will sufficiently pay,
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And so, loving brother, this letter I send,
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Subscribing myself your dear brother and friend.
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The servant and maid were still innocent,
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And onward their journey next day they went.
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Before sun-set to the knights house they came,
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Where the servant left her, and came home again.
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The girl was attended most nobly indeed,
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With men and maid servants to serve her with speed.
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Where she did continue a twelvemoths space,
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Till this cruel knight came to this place.
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As he and his brother together did talk,
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He spyd the young maid in the garden to walk:
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She looked most beautiful, pleasant, and gay,
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Like to sweet Aurora, the goddess of May.
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He was in a passion when he did her spy,
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And said most angry, Why, brother, why,
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Did you not do as in my letter I writ?
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His brother replyd, It is done every bit.
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No, no, said the knight, It is not so I see,
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Therefore she shall back again go with me,
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But his brother shewd him the letter that day,
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Then he was amazed, but nothing did say.
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PART III.
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SOON after, the knight took this maiden away,
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And with her did ride till they came to the sea;
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Then looking upon her with anger and spite,
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He spoke to this maiden, and bid her alight.
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The maid from the horse immediately went,
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And trembling to think what was his intent,
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Neer tremble, said he, for this hours your last,
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So pull off your cloaths, I command you, in haste,
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This virgin with tears on her knees did reply,
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Oh! what have I done, sir, that now I must die?
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Oh! let me but know how I offend,
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Ill study each hour to make you amends.
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Oh! spare my life, and Ill wander the earth
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And never come near you while I have breath.
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He hearing the pitiful moan she did take,
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Straight from his finger a ring did take.
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And then to this maiden these words
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This ring in the water Ill now throw away,
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Pray look on it well, for the poesy is plain,
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That you, when you see it, may know it again.
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I charge you, for life, never come in my sigh
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For if you do I shall owe you a spite,
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Unless you do bring the same unto me
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With that, he let the ring drop in the sea.
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Which when he had done, away he did go
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And left her to wander in sorrow woe,
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She rambled all night, and at length did espy,
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A homely poor cottage, and to it did hie.
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Being hungry and cold, and her heart full of grief,
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She went to this cottage to ask for relief.
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The people relieved her, and the next day,
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They got her a service, as I do hear say.
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At a noblemans house not far from the place
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Where she did behave with a modest grace.
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She was a cook-maid and forgot all times past,
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But observe a wondor that comes at last.
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PART IV.
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AS she a fish-dinner was dressing one day,
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And opend the head of a cod; as they say.
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She found such a ring, and was in amaze,
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And she in great wonder upon it did gaze,
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And viewing it well, she found it to be,
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The very same ring the knight dropt in the sea.
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She smild when she saw it, and blessd her kind fate
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But did to no creature the secret relate.
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This maid in her place did all maidens excel,
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That the lady took notice, and liked her so well,
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Saying, She was born of some noble degree,
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And took her for her companion to be.
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This hard-hearted knight to this palace came,
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A little time after, with persons of fame;
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But was struck to the soul when he did behold,
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This beautiful creature in trappings of gold.
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Then he askd the lady to grant him a boon,
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And said, It was to walk with that virgin alone.
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The lady consented, telling the young maid,
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By him she need not fear to be betrayd.
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When he first met her, Thou staumpet, said he,
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Did I not charge thee never more to see me?
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This hours you last, to the world bid good-night,
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For being so bold to appear in my sight.
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Said she, In the sea, sir, you flung your ring,
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And bid me not see you, unless I did bring
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The same unto you: Now I have it, cries she,
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Behold! tis the same you flung in the sea.
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When the knight saw it he flew to her arms,
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He kissd her, and said, Thou hast a million of charms,
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Said he, Charming creature, pray pardon me,
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Who often contrived the ruin of thee.
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Tis in vain to alter what the fates have decreed,
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For I find you are born my wife for to be,
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Then wedded they were, as I do hear say,
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And now shes a lady both gallant and gay,
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They quickly unto her parents did haste,
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Where the knight told the story of what had past:
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But asked their pardon upon his bare knee,
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Who gave it, and rejoiced their daughter to see.
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Then they for the fisherman and his wife sent,
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And for their past troubles did them content,
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So there was great joy unto all that did see
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The farmers young daughter a lady [to] be.
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