{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_26791/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_26791","id":"gutenberg_26791","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/26791","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Adventure","Category: British Literature","Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Category: Poetry","English poetry"],"text":"Transcribed from the 1913 Thomas J. Wise pamphlet by David Price, email\nccx074@pglaf.org\n\n\n\n\n\nERMELINE\nA BALLAD\n\n\n                                    BY\n                              GEORGE BORROW\n\n                                 LONDON:\n                     PRINTED FOR PRIVATE CIRCULATION\n\n                                   1913\n\n\n\n\nERMELINE.\n\n\nWith lance upraised so haughtily\n   Sir Thunye rides from Alsey town;\nOn land and main he was, I ween,\n   A daring knight of high renown.\n\nSir Thunye rides in good green wood,\n   He fain will chase the nimble hare;\nAnd there he meeteth the Dwarf\u2019s daughter,\n   All with her band of maidens fair.\n\nSir Thunye rides in good green wood,\n   To chase the nimble hart and hind;\nAnd there he meets the Dwarf\u2019s daughter,\n   Beneath the linden bough reclin\u2019d.\n\nShe rested \u2019neath the linden\u2019s shade,\n   The gold harp in her hand was seen:\n\u201cO yonder I spy Sir Thunye ride,\n   I\u2019ll bring him to my feet, I ween.\n\n\u201cNow sit ye down, my maids so small,\n   And sit you down my little foot boy;\nFor I the Runic note will play,\n   Till field and meadow bloom with joy.\u201d\n\nThen struck she amain the Runic stroke,\n   The harp began so sweet to ring,\nThe wild bird on the twig that sat\n   Forgot its merry song to sing.\n\nThe wild bird on the bough that sat\n   Forgot its merry song to sing;\nThe wild hart running in the shaw\n   Forgot forthwith to leap and spring.\n\nThen bloomed the mead, the bough burst forth,\n   As wildly rang that Runic strain;\nSir Thunye fiercely spurred his steed,\n   But, ah! to \u2019scape he strove in vain.\n\nIt was the knight Sir Thunye then\n   From his good courser bounded he;\nHe went up to the Dwarf\u2019s daughter,\n   And took his seat beside her knee.\n\n\u201cHail to thee, Daughter of the Dwarf!\n   Do thou become my wedded wife,\nAnd I\u2019ll respect and honor thee,\n   All, all the days I gain in life.\n\n\u201cHere sitt\u2019st thou, Daughter of the Dwarf,\n   A rose amongst the lilies all;\nNo man can see thee in this world\n   But thee his own he fain would call.\u201d\n\n\u201cNow list to me, Sir Thunye the knight,\n   Give up, I beg, this amorous play;\nI have already a bridegroom bold,\n   The King whom all the dwarfs obey.\n\n\u201cMy father sits within the hill,\n   He marshals there his elfin power;\nNext Monday morn my bridegroom bold\n   Shall bear me to his elfin bower.\n\n\u201cMy mother in the hill doth sit,\n   And plays with gold that round is strewn;\nBut I stole away from out the hill,\n   To play upon my harp a tune.\u201d\n\n\u201cO ere the Dwarf shall thee possess,\n   And his shall be a bliss so high,\nO I will lose my youthful life,\n   And break my faulchion willingly.\u201d\n\nThen answered straight the Dwarf\u2019s daughter,\n   And with a frown thus answered she:\n\u201cO thou may\u2019st gain a lovelier bride,\n   But ne\u2019er, Sir Knight, wilt thou gain me.\n\n\u201cNow haste away, Sir Thunye the knight,\n   I rede thee for thy life take heed;\nMy father and my bold bridegroom\n   I ween will both be here with speed.\u201d\n\nIt was her mother, the Dwarf\u2019s Lady,\n   She peeped from out the mountain\u2019s side;\nAnd she was aware of Sir Thunye there,\n   Standing beneath the linden wide.\n\nOut came her mother, the Dwarf\u2019s Lady,\n   And anger shone upon her face:\n\u201cNow hear Wolfhilda, daughter mine,\n   But ill beseems thee such a place.\n\n\u201cThou\u2019dst better sit within the hill,\n   And sew the linen white as snow,\nThan come to strike the gold harp here,\n   Beneath the verdant forest bough.\n\n\u201cThe King of the Dwarfs has wedded thee.\n   Thy free consent he sought and won;\nYet thou hast dared Sir Thunye here\n   To chain with stroke of magic Rune.\u201d\n\nIt was the daughter of the Dwarf\n   Must weeping into the mountain flee;\nDevoid of sense Sir Thunye went\n   Behind her, nor could hear nor see.\n\nBut hear what did the wife of the Dwarf:\n   With silk so soft a stool she spread,\nAnd there he sat till crow of cock,\n   As though he had been stark and dead.\n\nBut hear what did the wife of the Dwarf:\n   The book of power forth she brought,\nTherewith she broke the Runic thrall,\n   Wherein the hero had been caught.\n\n\u201cNow have I freed thee from the Runes,\n   They never more can thee oppress:\nThis have I done for honor\u2019s sake,\n   My daughter thee shall not possess.\n\n\u201cMuch more, Sir Knight, for thee I\u2019ll do,\n   For sheer goodwill and affection pure;\nI will for thee a bonnier bride\n   Than any elfin maid procure.\n\n\u201cI was not born in this wild hill,\n   Of Christian folk I am the child;\nAn only sister I possess,\n   And she Dame Ermeline is stil\u2019d.\n\n\u201cShe bears the crown in merry England,\n   The crown and queenly dignity;\nHer daughter dear has stolen been,\n   For thus the tale was told to me.\n\n\u201cHer daughter dear has stolen been,\n   She lieth now in strict durance;\nTo blessed Kirk she may not go,\n   And far, far less to merry dance.\n\n\u201cShe ne\u2019er may out of the window look\n   Except to watch her women stand;\nNor play at tables with the King\n   Unless the Queen is close at hand.\n\n\u201cExcept the King, so aged and grey,\n   No earthly man she e\u2019er has seen;\nEach night her chamber door is locked,\n   And she who locks it is the Queen.\n\n\u201cThe Damsel\u2019s named proud Ermeline,\n   She sits in Upsal sorrowing sore;\nWhilst bolts of steel and iron bars\n   Make fast the Damsel\u2019s chamber door.\n\n\u201cThe King he has a sister\u2019s son,\n   And Allevod is the name he bears;\nAnd he\u2019s to wed the lovely maid\n   As soon as he the Kingdom heirs.\n\n\u201cBut I will give thee saddle and horse,\n   And golden spurs I will supply;\nThou ne\u2019er shalt ride a path so wild\n   But thou shalt reach a hostelry.\n\n\u201cAnd I will garments give to thee,\n   With gold adorned at the seam;\nAnd I will give thee a ruddy shield,\n   Wherein the richest diamonds gleam.\n\n\u201cAnd I will give thee a silken band,\n   With roses \u2019tis embroider\u2019d all;\nWhilst thou dost bear that girdle fair\n   No word thou say\u2019st shall vainly fall.\u201d\n\nForth stepped the Daughter of the Dwarf,\n   For, ah! she loved the knight so dear:\n\u201cAnd I will give thee a faulchion good,\n   And I will give thee a polished spear.\n\n\u201cThou ne\u2019er shalt ride through wood so wide\n   But thou shalt surely find the way;\nAnd ne\u2019er, Sir Knight, engage in fight\n   But victory thou shalt bear away.\n\n\u201cThou never, never shalt sail the sea\n   But in safety thou shalt come to land;\nThou never, never shalt wounded be,\n   I ween, by any human hand.\u201d\n\nIt was the proud Dame Thorelile,\n   The clear wine into the cup she pour\u2019d:\n\u201cNow haste thee from the elfin hill,\n   Ere home arrive the elfin Lord.\u201d\n\nSir Thunye rides in the good green wood,\n   His spear it gleams so wide, so wide;\nAnd soon he meets the Dwarf himself,\n   To his mountain home as the Dwarf would ride.\n\n\u201cWell met, well met, Sir Thunye the Knight,\n   Thy horse he speeds right gallantly;\nSay whither, whither dost thou ride?\n   On journey bound thou seemst to be.\u201d\n\n\u201cRiding to woo, Sir Dwarf, I am,\n   Riding to wed a beauteous lady;\nTo break a spear I do not fear,\n   For weal or woe alike I\u2019m ready.\u201d\n\n\u201cRide on thy way, Sir Thunye the Knight,\n   Nought else than peace thou shalt have from me;\nIn Upsal town a swain there lives\n   Will willingly break a lance with thee.\u201d\n\nSir Thunye rides in Sweden\u2019s land,\n   Essay his fortune there would he;\nAnd there he found nine stalwart knights,\n   Stood armed beneath the forest tree.\n\nUpon their heads their helms were placed,\n   Their good shields glittered before their breasts;\nBy their sides hung down their gilded swords,\n   And their spears hung ready within the rests.\n\n\u201cHalloo, ye Swedish champions nine!\n   Say, will ye fight for honour now?\nOr will ye fight for ruddy gold,\n   Or the ladies\u2019 love for whom ye glow?\u201d\n\nThen answered Allevod, the King\u2019s son,\n   High rose the pride his heart within:\n\u201cEnough I have of honour and gold,\n   No more of either need I win.\u201d\n\n\u201cThere sits a maid in Upsal town,\n   That maid is named proud Ermeline;\nBy lance we\u2019ll settle whose shall be\n   That lovely maiden, mine or thine.\u201d\n\nThe first course that together they rode\n   So furious were that knightly twain\nAsunder burst their shields of gold,\n   And their broken spears flew o\u2019er the plain.\n\nBut now the second course they ride,\n   And again they meet with a crash like thunder;\nSir Allevod fell from his gilded selle,\n   His sturdy neck-bone burst asunder.\n\nThat vexed sore the Swedish knights,\n   Their leader\u2019s fall they fain would wrake;\nBut fortune proved so stern and dour,\n   The good knight\u2019s faulchion drove them back.\n\nIt was then the Swedish knights\n   Their ruffled garb adjusted they;\nAnd unto the hall, the regal hall,\n   To the Swedish King they took their way.\n\n\u201cA Jutt is come to our land, Sir King,\n   Armed and dight in elfin way;\nOf eight good knights the limbs he\u2019s broke,\n   Who strove with him in battle fray.\n\n\u201cOf eight good knights the limbs he broke,\n   Halt and lame they will aye remain;\nAnd upon the sod lies Allevod,\n   Thy sister\u2019s son by that Jotun slain.\u201d\n\nThen answer made the ancient King,\n   Rending his hair so long and grey:\n\u201cWith sable and mard I\u2019ll them reward\n   Who dare this cursed Jutt to slay.\u201d\n\nForth rode the Swedish courtiers then,\n   To slay the Jutt so sure they made;\nBut soon from them the vaunt he drove,\n   Such heavy blows on their polls he laid.\n\nNo sable and mard was their reward,\n   When they returned from the battle fray;\nThey must doff, I ween, their armour sheen,\n   And clothe them in the wadmal grey.\n\nThat vexed the Swedish courtiers sore,\n   And in mournful guise they murmured out:\n\u201cIn Sweden\u2019s land lives none can stand\n   Against this wild and sturdy Jutt.\u201d\n\nSir Thunye he to Upsal rides,\n   Respect and honour attend his path;\nThe Swedish knights they held their peace,\n   And were only glad to escape his wrath.\n\nAnd he has broken the huge steel-bar,\n   And he the savage bears has slain;\nAnd out he has led the lovely maid\n   Who long in dreary thrall had lain.\n\n\u201cNow welcome be, Sir Thunye the Knight,\n   Unto this savage Swedish clime;\nI say to thee in verity\n   I\u2019ve sighed for thee a weary time.\n\n\u201cWhen I was but a little child,\n   To me \u2019twas spaed that a knight should come\nFrom foreign land, should Allevod slay,\n   And to England\u2019s realm should bear me home.\n\n\u201cI beg of thee, Sir Thunye the Knight,\n   That thou as a Knight by me wilt stand;\nThere liveth none beneath the sun,\n   To whom I\u2019d sooner yield my hand.\u201d\n\nThen answered amain Sir Thunye the Knight,\n   As he bowed his knee to the Lady fair;\n\u201cWith heart and hand by thee to stand,\n   By the holy name of Christ I swear.\u201d\n\nAnd so he took the lovely maid,\n   With her store of gold so ruddy of hue;\nAnd to Denmark\u2019s land he her conveyed,\n   Where a loving pair full soon they grew.\n\nHe has carried her to his castle hall,\n   Like a blooming flower there she shone;\nRejoic\u00e9d all, both great and small,\n   In Alsey\u2019s ancient town that wone.\n\nIt was bold Sir Thunye the Knight,\n   His knightly faith so well kept he;\nThe next, next Monday morn he held\n   His bridal\u2019s high festivity.\n\n\u2019Twas noised about in merry England\n   The King\u2019s lost daughter was found at last;\nRejoiced, I ween, the King and Queen,\n   And away for ever their grief they cast.\n\nThe King a scroll to Sir Thunye sent,\n   Wishing him luck with his Ermeline;\nAnd begged he\u2019d come across the foam\n   That he to him might the crown resign.\n\nIt was good Sir Thunye the Knight,\n   He spread on the yard his sails so wide;\nAnd they arrived in the far England\n   In less, I\u2019m told, than two months\u2019 tide.\n\nIt was good Sir Thunye the Knight,\n   He steered his vessel towards the strand;\nAnd, lo! the ancient King and Queen\n   Were walking on the yellow sand.\n\n\u201cNow welcome be Sir Thunye the Knight,\n   Thrice welcome be to this foreign strand;\nOf England all the fair kingdom shall\n   Be subject to thy knightly hand.\u201d\n\nSo he the kingdom has resigned,\n   And he has crowned the knight of fame;\nAnd dales and downs and England\u2019s towns\n   Thus subject to the knight became.\n\nNow has Sir Thunye all achieved,\n   And now to joy may his heart resign;\nHe rules by day old England gay,\n   And sleeps at night with his Ermeline.\n\nA King more powerful there is none\n   Than he, the flower of chivalry;\nThe knights, they say, of Sweden pray\n   He never more their guest may be.\n\n\n\n\nTHE CUCKOO\u2019S SONG IN MERION.\n_From the Welsh of Lewis Morris_.\n\n\nThough it has been my fate to see\n   Of gallant countries many a one;\nGood ale, and those that drank it free,\n   And wine in streams that seemed to run;\nThe best of beer, the best of cheer,\n   Allotted are to Merion.\n\nThe swarthy ox will drag his chain,\n   At man\u2019s commandment that is done;\nHis furrow break through earth with pain,\n   Up hill and hillock toiling on;\nYet with more skill draw hearts at will\n   The maids of county Merion.\n\nMerry the life, it must be owned,\n   Upon the hills of Merion;\nThough chill and drear the prospect round,\n   Delight and joy are not unknown;\nO who would e\u2019er expect to hear\n   \u2019Mid mountain bogs the cuckoo\u2019s tone?\n\nO who display a mien full fair,\n   A wonder each to look upon?\nAnd who in every household care\n   Defy compare below the sun?\nAnd who make mad each sprightly lad?\n   The maids of county Merion.\n\nO fair the salmon in the flood,\n   That over golden sands doth run;\nAnd fair the thrush in his abode,\n   That spreads his wings in gladsome fun;\nMore beauteous look, if truth be spoke,\n   The maids of county Merion.\n\nDear to the little birdies wild\n   Their freedom in the forest lone;\nDear to the little sucking child\n   The nurse\u2019s breast it hangs upon;\nThough long I wait, I ne\u2019er can state\n   How dear to me is Merion.\n\nSweet in the house the Telyn\u2019s {23} strings\n   In love and joy where kindred wone;\nWhile each in turn a stanza sings,\n   No sordid themes e\u2019er touched upon;\nFull sweet in sound the hearth around\n   The maidens\u2019 song of Merion.\n\nAnd though my body here it be\n   Travelling the countries up and down;\nTasting delights of land and sea,\n   True pleasure seems my heart to shun;\nAlas! there\u2019s need home, home to speed\u2014\n   My soul it is in Merion.\n\n                                * * * * *\n\n                                  LONDON\n               Printed for THOMAS J. WISE, Hampstead, N.W.\n                   _Edition limited to Thirty Copies_.\n\n\n\n\nFootnotes:\n\n\n{23}  The Harp.","title":"Ermeline : $b a ballad","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":2481}