The DURHAM Garland.
In FOUR PARTS.
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A Worthy lord, of vast estate.
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Who did in Durham dwell of late.
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Bu[t] I will not declare his name,
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By reason of his birth and fame.
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But if you the truth would know,
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This lord he would a hunting go.
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He had indeed a noble train
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Of lords and knight and gentlemen.
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Unto fam'd Yorkshire he would ride,
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With all his gallants by his side.
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In hunting pass'd the time away;
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But being weary, as they say.
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His lordship lost his noble train
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Of lords and knights, and gentlemen,
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And hearing not the horns to blow,
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He could not tell which way to go.
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But he did wander to and fro',
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Being weary, likewise full of woe.
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At last dame Fortune was so kind
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That he the keeper's house did find.
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He went and knocked at the gate,
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And tho' it was so very late.
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The forester he let him in.
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And kindly entertained him
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But in the middle of the night,
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When as the stars did shine so bright,
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The lord was in a sad surprize,
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Being waked with a dismal noise.
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Then did he arise and call with speed,
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To know the reason then indeed.
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Of all that shrieking and that noise,
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Which did so much his soul surprize,
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I'm sorry, sir, the keeper said,
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That you should be so much afraid:
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But I hope that all will soon be well,
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My wife is into labour fell.
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This noble lord was learn'd and wise.
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And knew the planets of the skies.
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He saw an evil planet reign,
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So call'd the forester again.
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And gave him then to understand,
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He'd have the midwife hold her hand.
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But he was answer'd by the maid,
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Her mistress was delivered.
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At one o'clock that very morn,
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A lovely infant there was born.
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He was indeed a pretty boy,
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Which gave his parents mickle joy.
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This lord was gen'rous, kind and free,
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And proffer'd godfather to be.
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This good man thank'd him heartily,
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For his good will and courtesy.
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A parson was call'd for with speed,
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For to christen the child indeed.
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And after, as I do hear say,
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In joy and mirth they spent the day.
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This noble lord did presents gave,
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And all the servants did receive.
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They beg'd God would encrease his store,
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For they had ne'er so much before.
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And likewise to the child he gave
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A noble present and a brave,
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It was a charming cabinet,
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That was with pearls and rubies set.
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Within it was a cabinet of gold,
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Your eyes would dazzle to behold;
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A richer gift, as I may say,
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Has not been seen this many a day.
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He charg'd his father faithfully,
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That he himself should keep the key.
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Until the child could write and read,
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And then to give it him indeed.
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Pray do not open it at all,
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Whatever does to you befel.
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For it may do my god son good,
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If it be rightly understood,
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The second part I will unfold.
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As true as ever a tale was told;
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Concerning of this lovely child,
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Who was obedient, sweet, and mild.
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PART II.
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THIS child did take his learning so.
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If you [t]he truth of this would know,
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At eleven years of age indeed
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He could both greek and latin read.
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But thinking of his cabinet,
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Which was with pearls and jewhls set,
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He ask'd his father for the key,
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The which he gave him speedily.
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His cabinet he did unlock,
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But he was in amazements struck
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When he the riches did behold,
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And also saw the chain of gold.
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But searching farther he did find
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A paper that disturb'd his mind;
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Which was w[i]thin the cabinet,
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Ih greek and latin it was writ.
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My son, serve God that is so high,
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And pray to him incessantly:
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Obey your parents, serve the king,
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That nothing may your conscience sting.
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For seven years hence your fate will be
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To be hanged upon a tree:
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So pray to God both night and dsy
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To let that hour pass away.
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When he these ruefull lines had read.
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He with a sigh did say Indeed
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If hanging be my destiny,
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My parents shall not see me die,
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For I will wander to and fro',
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And go wither I do not know.
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But first I'll ask my parents leave,
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In view their blessings to receive,
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Then locking up the cabinet,
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He went unto his chamber strait;
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And went unto his parents dear,
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Beseeching them with many a tear,
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That they would grant what he did crave:
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Your blessing first I beg to have.
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And hope you'll let me go my way,
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'Twill do me good another day.
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For I indeed have made a vow,
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But most not tell the reason now.
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But if I live I will return
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When seven years are past and gone.
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Both man and wife did then reply,
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We fear, dear son, that thou wilt die;
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If we should yield to let you go.
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Our aged hearts will burst [wit]h woe,
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Yet he entreated eagerly,
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So that they were forc'd to comply,
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And gave [cons]ent [that] he should go;
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But where, alas! they did not know.
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In the thi[r]d part you soon shall find
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That fortune to him was most kind;
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For after many dangers past,
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He came to Durham at the last.
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PART III.
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HE went by chance as I heard say,
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Unto the house that very day,
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Whereat his god-father did dwell,
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Now mind what fortune him befel,
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This youth did crave a service there,
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And strait come out his god-father,
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And seeing him a handsome youth,
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He took him for his page in truth.
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In this same place he pleas'd so well,
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That above all he bore the bell,
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And he so well his lord did please,
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He made him higher by degrees,
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He made him butler indeed,
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And then chief steward with speed,
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Which made the other servants spite,
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And envy him both bay and night.
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He ne'er was false in all his trust,
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But proved ever true and just;
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And to the Lord did hourly pray
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To guard him still hoth night and day,
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In this same place it doth appear,
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He liv'd the space of seven year,
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And his parents he thought upon,
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And of his promise to return.
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Then humbly of his lord did crave,
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That he his free consent might have
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For to go and see his parents dear,
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W[h]om he had not seen for m[a]ny a year.
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So having leave away he went,
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No dreaming of the base intent,
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Which was contriv'd against him then,
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By wicked, false, malicious men.
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Who had in his portmanteau put
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Their noble lord's fine golden cup;
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And when the lord at dinner was,
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He miss'd the cup as it came to pass.
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Where should it be, the lord did say;
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We had it here but yesterday.
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The butler then reply'd with speed,
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If you will know the truth indeed;
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Your faithful steward that is gone,
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With feather'd nest away is flown;
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I do believe he has that and more,
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Which does belong unto your store.
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No, said the lord, that cannot be,
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For I have try'd his honesty.
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Then, said the cook, my lord, I'll die
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Upon a tree that's nine feet high.
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But hearing what this man did say,
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Did send a messenger that day.
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To take him with a hue and cry.
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And bring him back immediately.
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They search'd his portmanteau indeed.
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In which they found the cup with speed.
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Then he was struck with sad surprize,
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And scarcely could believe his eyes.
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The lord then said unto him strait,
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You shall be hang'd before my gate.
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Because in you I put my trust,
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And I took you for nought but just.
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PART IV.
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THE day was fix'd, and being come.
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Said he, O Lord! it was my doom,
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Tho' innocent I do declare
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How my lord's cup came to be there.
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What fate decrees none can deny.
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I was adjudged thus to die
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Upon a fatal gallows tree.
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Which my god-father did foresee.
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In traveiling pains my mother was,
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Into the world I came at last,
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A gentleman with skill did show
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Such death I now am coming to;
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A chain and cabinet he gave
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Unto my father, which I have;
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The manuscript that was therein,
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Did show me plain I should be hang'd,
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So the lord hearing him say so,
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It come into his mind then to
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Keep him from off the gallows high,
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For I think this man is not guilty.
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Something I doubt there is in this.
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Methinks it is but meer malice.
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Of the cook and the butler too.
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And if so I'll make them rue,
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The cause he tries a second time,
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And found them guilty of the crime.
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They were adjudg'd to be hang'd strait:
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Indeed they did deserve their fate.
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The lord he took him, and did say,
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Have you that cabinet I pray?
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Yes, noble lord, this is the same
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Was left me, with this very chain.
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My daughter is a virgin bright,
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You shall have her this very night;
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Wherefore now take delight in her,
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'Tis I who am your god-father.
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Here's twenty thousand pounds in gold,
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And when I'm dead it shall be told
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You shall enjoy my whole estate,
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For to make you both rich and great.
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