{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_27409/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_27409","id":"gutenberg_27409","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/27409","summary":null,"tags":["Ballads","Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Category: Poetry","English poetry"],"text":"Transcribed from the 1913 Thomas J. Wise pamphlet by David Price, email\nccx074@pglaf.org.  Many thanks to Norfolk and Norwich Millennium Library,\nUK, for kindly supplying the images from which this transcription was\nmade.\n\n\n\n\n\n                             THE KING'S WAKE\n                            AND OTHER BALLADS\n\n\n                                    BY\n                              GEORGE BORROW\n\n                                 LONDON:\n                     PRINTED FOR PRIVATE CIRCULATION\n                                   1913\n\n\n\n\nTHE KING'S WAKE\n\n\nTo-night is the night that the wake they hold,\nTo the wake repair both young and old.\n\nProud Signelil she her mother address'd:\n\"May I go watch along with the rest?\"\n\n\"O what at the wake wouldst do my dear?\nThou'st neither sister nor brother there.\n\n\"Nor brother-in-law to protect thy youth,\nTo the wake thou must not go forsooth.\n\n\"There be the King and his warriors gay,\nIf me thou list thou at home wilt stay.\"\n\n\"But the Queen will be there and her maiden crew,\nPray let me go, mother, the dance to view.\"\n\nSo long, so long begged the maiden young,\nThat at length from her mother consent she wrung.\n\n\"Then go, my child, if thou needs must go,\nBut thy mother ne'er went to the wake I trow.\"\n\nThen through the thick forest the maiden went,\nTo reach the wake her mind was bent.\n\nWhen o'er the green meadows she had won,\nThe Queen and her maidens to bed were gone.\n\nAnd when she came to the castle gate\nThey were plying the dance at a furious rate.\n\nThere danced full many a mail-clad man,\nAnd the youthful King he led the van.\n\nHe stretched forth his hand with an air so free,\n\"Wilt dance, thou pretty maid, with me?\"\n\n\"O, sir, I've come across the wold\nThat I with the Queen discourse might hold.\"\n\n\"Come dance,\" said the King with a courteous smile,\n\"The Queen will be here in a little while.\"\n\nThen forward she stepped like a blushing rose,\nShe takes his hand and to dance she goes.\n\n\"Hear Signelil what I say to thee,\nA ditty of love sing thou to me.\"\n\n\"A ditty of love I will not, Sir King,\nBut as well as I can another I'll sing.\"\n\nProud Signil began, a ditty she sang,\nTo the ears of the Queen in her bed it rang.\n\nSays the Queen in her chamber as she lay:\n\"O which of my maidens doth sing so gay?\n\n\"O which of my maidens doth sing so late,\nTo bed why followed they me not straight?\"\n\nThen answered the Queen the little foot page,\n\"'Tis none of thy maidens I'll engage.\n\n\"'Tis none I'll engage of the maiden band,\n'Tis Signil proud from the islet's strand.\"\n\n\"O bring my red mantle hither to me,\nFor I'll go down this maid to see.\"\n\nAnd when they came down to the castle gate\nThe dance it moved at so brave a rate.\n\nAbout and around they danced with glee,\nThere stood the Queen and the whole did see.\n\nThe Queen she felt so sore aggrieved\nWhen the King with Signil she perceived.\n\nSophia the Queen to her maid did sign:\n\"Go fetch me hither a horn of wine.\"\n\nHis hand the King stretched forth so free:\n\"Wilt thou Sophia my partner be?\"\n\n\"O I'll not dance with thee, I vow,\nUnless proud Signil pledge me now.\"\n\nThe horn she raised to her lips, athirst,\nThe innocent heart in her bosom burst.\n\nThere stood King Valdemar pale as clay,\nStone dead at his feet the maiden lay.\n\n\"A fairer maid since I first drew breath\nNe'er came more guiltless to her death.\"\n\nFor her wept woman and maid so sore,\nTo the Church her beauteous corse they bore.\n\nBut better with her it would have sped,\nHad she but heard what her mother said.\n\n\n\n\nSWAYNE FELDING\n\n\nSwayne Felding sits at Helsingborg,\n   He tells his deeds with pride;\nFull blythe at heart I ween he was,\n   His faulchion at his side.\n\nHe vows that he on pilgrimage\n   To regal Rome will go;\nAnd many a Danish warrior bold\n   Doth make the self same vow.\n\nSo out they rode from Danish land,\n   And only two were they;\nThey stopped to rest them in a town,\n   Its name was Hovdingsey.\n\nThey stopped to rest in a lofty town,\n   Its name was Hovdingsey;\nThey guested with a Damsel proud,\n   A wondrous lovely may.\n\nShe placed Swayne highest at the board\n   Amidst a knightly band;\nAnd then wherefrom they two were come\n   The Damsel did demand.\n\n\"Thou art no needy pilgrim, Sir,\n   Who honorest us this eve;\nAnd that can I by thy small shirt\n   Hooked with red gold perceive.\n\n\"O I can plain by thy small shirt\n   With red gold hooked discern,\nThou art the King of Denmark come\n   To do us a noble turn.\"\n\n\"I am not Denmark's King, fair maid,\n   Nor any thing so high;\nI'm but a needy pilgrim, born\n   Within the Dane country.\n\n\"Now list to me thou Damsel fair,\n   List kindly I beseech,\nThere's many a child in Denmark born,\n   And with his own luck each.\"\n\nAnd there sat she the damsel fair,\n   And the silken seam she sewed;\nFor every stitch she sew'd a tear\n   From her eyes of beauty flowed.\n\n\"Now do thou hear, my damsel dear,\n   Why dost so sorely grieve?\nIf thou declare thy bosom's care\n   Perchance I can relieve.\"\n\n\"Within our land a Giant lives\n   Who waste our land will lay;\nUpon no other food than maids\n   And ladies will he prey.\n\n\"Within our country lives a trold\n   From us our land will tear,\nUnless we can procure a man\n   To fight with him will dare.\n\n\"But I have heard in all my days\n   That Danemen know no fear;\nNo doubt it is to help us now\n   That God has sent one here.\"\n\n\"And had I horse and harness now\n   Well suited to my back,\nThen would I break with him a spear,\n   Proud damsel, for thy sake.\"\n\nThey led three hundred horses forth,\n   Milk white was every one;\nBut the first sank down like a messan dog\n   That Swayne laid the saddle on.\n\nThey led the Spanish horses forth,\n   Their eyes were very bright;\nSwayne drew the bridle o'er their heads,\n   And straightway they took fright.\n\nIt was the brave Swayne Felding then\n   Was sorely sad in mood:\n\"O had I but a Danish horse\n   Who had eat of Denmark's food.\n\n\"Full fifteen golden rings so good\n   From Denmark I did bring,\nBut for a horse of Jutland breed\n   They every one should spring.\"\n\nThen up came striding a millerman\n   So gaily o'er the wold:\n\"O I have got a Danish horse,\n   In Denmark he was foal'd.\n\n\"A mottled Danish horse I've got,\n   In Sadbylund was born;\nHe bears each time that he goes to mill\n   Full sixty bolls of corn.\"\n\n\"Now hear thou honest millerman,\n   Let me this same horse see,\nFor if we both be Daners born\n   We'll beat Italians three.\"\n\nThen forth was led the miller's horse,\n   He look'd a very Dane;\nHigh hip, broad chest, the saddle gilt\n   Upon his back laid Swayne.\n\nAway he cast his gloves so small,\n   His hands were white to see;\nAnd he himself girded the noble horse,\n   The groom ne'er trusted he.\n\nHe girded the horse with a saddle girth,\n   He girded him with three;\nThe horse he gave a single shake\n   And all broke instantly.\n\nHe girded the steed where he was most thick\n   With such tremendous force,\nThat the girth did fly into pieces ten,\n   And fell on his knee the horse.\n\n\"With fifteen golden rings so good\n   From Denmark out I sped,\nBut I with every one would part\n   Got I a good girth instead.\n\n\"Send ye a message o'er the mead\n   Unto the beauteous lady,\nAnd beg her for her champion's steed\n   To get a new girth ready.\"\n\nFull fifteen were the Damsels proud\n   Who wove the ruddy gold,\nAnd formed with care a saddle girth\n   Swayne Felding's horse to hold.\n\nThe maids of Hammer, the maids of Pommer,\n   And many more maids with heed,\nWove silk and gold to form a girth\n   For the mottled Danish steed.\n\nThe saddle girth was ready and made\n   By the early morning tide;\n'Twas seven ells long, and a quarter thick,\n   And more than five span wide.\n\nBut when the horse he girded was\n   So fierce he ramped and reared,\nThat there was none of Austria's men\n   But to look upon him feared.\n\n\"Now do thou hear thou gallant horse,\n   I think thou'st human wit,\nBefore I mount thy back upon\n   I thee will ease a bit.\n\n\"Now do thy best, my gallant horse,\n   Who like a buck dost play;\nHere may ye see, ye German knights,\n   Of Danish men the way.\n\n\"Now take away the crowned sword,\n   To bear it would break my vow;\nAnd fetch ye hither a vessel's mast,\n   I'll wield it well I trow.\"\n\nThe first course they together rode\n   The Trold show'd mighty force,\nTheir splintered spears a furlong flew,\n   And down fell either horse.\n\n\"I would but prove my horse's strength,\n   I call not this a fight;\nBut meet me here tomorrow's morn\n   And harder thee I'll smite.\"\n\nSwayne Felding took the sacrament,\n   And round the churchyard paced;\nWithin his acton next his breast\n   The holy host he placed.\n\n\"And do thou hear, my Damsel fair,\n   Be never down at heart;\nEither shall he the saddle quit\n   Or his tough neck shall start.\"\n\nOut of the city followed him\n   Alike both man and dame:\n\"O may God grant,\" the people said,\n   \"The Knight his foe may tame!\"\n\n\"Now hand me not the puny lance\n   Which ye are wont to bear;\nBut do ye bring, for me to wield,\n   My native country's spear.\"\n\nAnd now the second course they ride\n   Their cheeks with fury red;\nThe Devil's neck asunder went,\n   Flew o'er the mead his head.\n\nHis head flew into pieces nine,\n   His back asunder burst;\nSwayne hied him to the Damsel's house,\n   There first he quenched his thirst.\n\nNine stately warriors out there came,\n   Took Swayne from off his steed:\n\"Broad lands on thee we will bestow\n   If thou wilt wed the maid.\"\n\n\"O I'm betrothed to one as fair\n   In Ostland realms already;\nFor seven tons of ruddy gold\n   I would not prove unsteady.\n\n\"But build before your Hovdingsey\n   A house upon the mead,\nAnd there to Danish pilgrims give\n   Good wine and best of bread.\"\n\nSo Danish pilgrims there they give\n   Good wine and best of bread;\nThey pray for brave Swayne Felding's soul,\n   He now has long been dead.\n\n\n\n\nINNOCENCE DEFAMED\n\n\nMisfortune comes to every door,\n   And who can hope to 'scape its might?\nAnd that can little Kirstine say,\n   And none alas with greater right.\n\nIt was the good Sir Peter, he\n   At fall of eve came home from Ting;\nAnd it was little Kirstine fair,\n   That fell the knight to welcoming.\n\n\"Now welcome, welcome home from Ting,\n   Most welcome thou my father dear;\nWhilst thou at Ting this day didst stand\n   Didst any news or tiding hear?\"\n\n\"Enough of tidings I have heard,\n   To break my heart however sound;\nThy plighted youth has thee forsworn\n   Because thy name was bandied round.\n\n\"Thy plighted youth has thee forsworn,\n   And none can blame the youth I ween;\nFor eight long years it seems thou hast\n   A murdress and a harlot been.\"\n\n\"Now do thou hear, my father dear,\n   Such wicked rumours thou shouldst scorn;\nFor thus is many a virtuous maid\n   Of fame and honor daily shorn.\"\n\n\"And do thou hear, my daughter dear,\n   Thou shalt confess it to thy sorrow;\nThis evening thou shalt gather wood,\n   And burn upon that wood tomorrow.\"\n\nAnd so they took the fair Kirstine,\n   And her arrayed in scarlet weed;\nAnd mournfully they lifted her\n   Upon the grey and lofty steed.\n\nIt was little Kirstine fair,\n   She reached at last the verdant wold;\n\"Now bless'd be God on high that dwells,\n   My bride-bed yonder I behold.\n\n\"So red, red are my bridal sheets,\n   My bridal bolsters are so blue,\nThe knights who thus their daughters wed\n   I hope and trust are very few.\"\n\nAnd so they took the little Kirstine,\n   And bade her sit a stump upon:\nThen forward stepped her plighted youth,\n   And her yellow hair he has undone.\n\n\"Now do thou hear, my plighted maid,\n   I rede thee be of blythesome cheer,\nFor thou, I ween, dost here perceive\n   Thy bride-bed and thy funeral bier.\"\n\nWhen she had sat a little space\n   No longer there she cared to wait;\nNow stand thou up, Sir Archbishop,\n   And Kirstine's bride-bed consecrate.\n\nThe little Kirstine then they took\n   And midst the roaring blazes threw;\nThe fire recoiled on every side,\n   So fair and bright she stood to view.\n\n\"I thank the God who me has helped,\n   The God who made the earth and sky;\nNow to a cloister I will go,\n   And serve my master till I die.\"\n\nAnd thither little Kirstine went,\n   And with her all her maidens fair;\nHer father and her plighted youth,\n   They quickly died of grief and care.\n\nAnd now within the cloister wall\n   The beauteous little Kirstine goes;\nSo joyous o'er her yellow hair\n   The veil so long and black she throws.\n\n                                * * * * *\n\n                                 LONDON:\n               Printed for THOMAS J. WISE, Hampstead, N.W.\n                   _Edition limited to Thirty Copies_.","title":"The King's Wake, and Other Ballads","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":2210}