{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_28771/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_28771","id":"gutenberg_28771","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/28771","summary":null,"tags":["Ballads","Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Category: Poetry","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                             CHILD MAIDELVOLD\n                            AND OTHER BALLADS\n\n\n                                    BY\n                              GEORGE BORROW\n\n                                 LONDON:\n                     PRINTED FOR PRIVATE CIRCULATION\n                                   1913\n\n               _Copyright in the United States of America_\n           _by Houghton_, _Mifflin & Co. for Clement Shorter_.\n\n\n\n\nCHILD MAIDELVOLD.\n\n\nThe fair Sidselil, of all maidens the flower,\nWith her mother the Queen sat at work in her bower.\n\nSo hard at the woof the fair Sidselil plies,\nThat out from her bosom, so white, the milk flies.\n\n\"Now hear thou, O Sidselil, child of my heart,\nWhat causes the milk from thy bosom to start?\"\n\n\"O that is not milk, my dear mother, I vow,\nIt is but the mead I was drinking just now.\"\n\n\"Unlike are the two, most unlike to the sight,\nThe one it is brown, and the other is white.\"\n\n\"I see it is best that the truth be declared,\nThe handsome Child Maidelvold me has ensnared.\"\n\n\"And if it be truth what thou now hast declared,\nAnd handsome Child Maidelvold thee has ensnared,\n\n\"Aloft on the gallows I'll hang him, I trow,\nAnd burn thee to ashes the gallows below.\"\n\nProud Sidselil she her blue mantle puts on,\nAnd unto Child Maidelvold's bower she is gone.\n\nWith her fingers so tapering she twirled at the pin:\n\"Child Maidelvold rise, and with speed let me in.\"\n\n\"I've summoned no one the tribunal before,\nAnd at night to no one will I open my door.\"\n\n\"Child Maidelvold rise, I beseech, in Christ's name,\nI've spoke to my mother who knows of my shame.\n\n\"Aloft on the gallows she'll hang thee, I trow,\nAnd burn me to ashes the gallows below.\"\n\n\"O I will not hang, my sweet maiden, for thee\nAnd thou shalt not burn, my sweet maiden, for me.\n\n\"Collect thou thy gold in the coffer with speed,\nAnd I'll to the stable and saddle my steed.\"\n\nHe flung round the maiden his mantle so wide,\nAnd he lifted her up on his courser of pride.\n\nThey came to the wood of the briar and rose,\nThere Sidselil craved for a while to repose.\n\n\"Now art thou fatigued by thy journey, sweet love,\nOr say, does the saddle too close for thee prove?\"\n\n\"I am not o'ercome by the journey, sweet love,\nBut the saddle too close for my burden doth prove.\"\n\nHe spread on the cold earth his mantle so wide:\n\"Here rest thee a space and I'll watch by thy side.\"\n\n\"O Jesus, that one of my maidens were near,\nThe pains of a mother are on me I fear.\"\n\n\"Thy maidens are now at a distance from thee,\nAnd thou hast no one to assist thee but me.\"\n\n\"'Twere better to perish again and again,\nThan thou should'st stand by me and gaze on my pain.\"\n\n\"Then take off thy kerchief and cover my head,\nAnd perhaps I may stand in the wise woman's stead.\"\n\n\"One draught of pure water could'st thou bring me now,\nTo cheer up my heart that is sinking so low?\"\n\nSo faithful to her was the Child, and so true,\nHe fetched her the drink in her gold spangled shoe.\n\nChild Maidelvold sped through the forest so black,\nHe went to the fountain the wearisome track.\n\nAnd when he arrived at the fount in the vale,\nTwo nightingales sat there and sang him their tale:\n\n\"Dead Sidselil lieth beneath the green bough,\nWith two little babes on her bosom of snow.\"\n\nHe paid little heed to the nightingales' lay,\nAnd traced through the forest his wearisome way.\n\nBut, ah! what a spectacle burst on his view,\nThe little birds' story he found to be true.\n\nA grave broad and deep has Child Maidelvold made,\nTherein the unfortunate three he has laid.\n\nAs o'er them he clamped the mould down with his boot,\nHe thought that the babies screamed under his foot.\n\nAgainst a grey stone has the Child set his sword,\nThe point of the blade his heart mortally gor'd.\n\nHe was true to his Sidselil whilst he had breath,\nHe lies 'neath the earth now beside her in death.\n\n*** Another, but widely different, version of this Ballad was printed in\n_Romantic Ballads_, 1826, pp. 28-31, under the title _Sir Middel_.  In\nthis version the name of the heroine is Swanelil, in place of Sidselil;\nand that of the hero is Sir Middel, in place of Child Maidelvold.\n\n\n\n\nSIR PETER.\n\n\nSir Peter and Kirstin they sat by the board,\nBetwixt them in jest there passed many a word.\n\n\"Now listen to me, good Sir Peter the knight,\nSay, when wilt thou me to thy bridal invite?\"\n\n\"'Twill be held in a far distant country, I trow,\nSo far that to come quite unable art thou.\"\n\n\"And though thou shouldst hold it, Sir Peter, in Rome,\nIf thou shouldst invite me I'd certainly come.\"\n\n\"And if at my bridals thou wish to appear,\nBehind thou must leave all thy red golden gear.\"\n\n\"In my red golden gear I will ever go dight,\nFor it was not gained by dishonor, Sir Knight.\"\n\nSir Peter he bids them his bridals get ready,\nCries Kirstin: \"Now shoe ye my palfrey so steady.\"\n\nFair Kirstin she saddles her courser so gray,\nTo the house of Sir Peter she taketh her way.\n\nShe rides her horse into Sir Peter's court yard,\nAnd there stood the knight, clad in sable and mard.\n\n\"Now hear thou, Sir Peter, so handsome and fine,\nSay, may I this day skink before thee the wine?\"\n\n\"To skink wine before me if thee I permit,\nThou on the stone bench with the servants shalt sit.\"\n\nAdown her cheeks trickled the tear-drops so free--\nHow hard by each mortal insulted to be!\n\nTo the high and wide hall good Sir Peter proceeds,\nFair Kirstin behind him in rich scarlet weeds.\n\nA coronet glittered her temples upon,\nAnd full of gold rings were her fingers, each one.\n\nWhen into the hall little Kirstin she came,\nUprose to receive her each maiden and dame.\n\nShe took in her fair hand the white silver can,\nTo skink mead before the young knight she began.\n\nThe youthful bride said to her servant: \"Canst tell\nThe name of that skinker, that sweet demoiselle?\"\n\nThen answered the servant, as low as she might:\n\"'Tis only Sir Peter his love-lady light.\"\n\n\"And if he possessed such a leman, why rode\nSir Peter the knight to my father's abode?\n\n\"And had good Sir Peter a leman so brave,\nO why did he me of my father e'er crave.\n\n\"More gold she displays on her ten fingers small,\nThan my father could show in his good castle all.\"\n\nNow o'er was the supper, the laugh and the song,\nTo retire to her bed the young bride she doth long.\n\nWith the bride to the bridal apartment they go,\nFair Kirstin in front bears the yellow flambeau.\n\nThe bride in the soft bridal couch they have plac'd,\nTo come to her arms good Sir Peter made haste.\n\n\n\n\nINGEFRED AND GUDRUNE.\n\n\nIngefred and Gudrune they sate in their bower,\nEach bloomed a beauteous fragrant flower--\n   _So sweet it is in summer tide_!\n\nA working the gold fair Ingefred kept,\nStill sate Gudrune, and bitterly wept.\n\n\"Dear sister Gudrune so fain I'd know\nWhy down thy cheek the salt tears flow?\"\n\n\"Cause enough have I to be thus forlorn,\nWith a load of sorrow my heart is worn.\n\n\"Hear, Ingefred, hear what I say to thee,\nWilt thou to-night stand bride for me?\n\n\"If bride for me thou wilt stand to-night,\nI'll give thee my bridal clothes thee to requite.\n\n\"And more, much more to thee I'll give,\nAll my bride jewels thou shalt receive.\"\n\n\"O I will not stand for bride in thy room,\nSave I also obtain thy merry bridegroom.\"\n\n\"Betide me whatever the Lord ordain\nFrom me my bridegroom thou never shalt gain.\"\n\nIn silks so costly the bride they arrayed,\nAnd unto the kirk the bride they conveyed.\n\nIn golden cloth weed the holy priest stands,\nHe joins of Gudrune and Samsing the hands.\n\nO'er the downs and green grass meadows they sped,\nWhere the herdsman watched his herd as it fed.\n\n\"Of thy beauteous self, dear Damsel, take heed,\nNe'er enter the house of Sir Samsing, I rede.\n\n\"Sir Samsing possesses two nightingales\nWho tell of the Ladies such wondrous tales.\n\n\"With their voices of harmony they can declare\nWhether maiden or none has fallen to his share.\"\n\nThe chariot they stopped in the green wood shade,\nAn exchange 'twixt them of their clothes they made.\n\nThey change of their dress whatever they please,\nTheir faces they cannot exchange with like ease.\n\nTo Sir Samsing's house the bride they conveyed,\nOf the ruddy gold no spare was made.\n\nOn the bridal throne the bride they plac'd,\nThey skinked the mead for the bride to taste.\n\nThen said from his place the court buffoon,\n\"Methinks thou art Ingefred not Gudrune.\"\n\nFrom off her hand a gold ring she took,\nWhich she gave the buffoon with entreating look.\n\nSaid he: \"I'm an oaf and have drunk too hard,\nTo words of mine pay no regard.\"\n\n'Twas deep at night, and down fell the mist,\nTo her bed the young bride they assist.\n\nSir Samsing spoke to his nightingales twain:\n\"Before my young bride sing now a strain.\n\n\"A song now sing which shall avouch\nWhether I've a maiden or none in my couch.\"\n\n\"A maid's in the bed, that's certain and sure,\nGudrune is standing yet on the floor.\"\n\n\"Proud Ingefred straight from my couch retire!\nGudrune come hither, or dread my ire!\n\n\"Now tell me, Gudrune, with open heart,\nWhat made thee from thy bed depart?\"\n\n\"My father, alas! dwelt near the strand,\nWhen war and bloodshed filled the land.\n\n\"Full eight there were broke into my bower,\nOne only ravished my virgin flower.\"\n\nUpon her fair cheek he gave a kiss:\n\"My dearest, my dearest, all sorrow dismiss;\n\n\"My swains they were that broke into thy bower,\n'Twas I that gathered thy virgin flower.\"\n\nFair Ingefred gained, because bride she had been,\nOne of the King's knights of handsome mien.\n\n\n\n\nSIR RIBOLT.\n\n\nRibolt the son of a Count was he--\nGulborg he courted in secrecy.\n\nSince she was a child the maid he woo'd,\nAnd till she had come to womanhood.\n\n\"Gulborg do thou become my bride,\nIn a better land then thou shalt reside.\n\n\"Unto the land I thee will bear,\nWhere grief ne'er comes the mind to tear.\n\n\"To an island 'neath a blissful sky,\nWhere thou shalt live and never die.\"\n\n\"To the land thou never me wilt bear,\nBut grief shall come the mind to tear.\n\n\"Nor me to the isle wilt thou convey\nWhere I've no death to the Lord to pay.\"\n\n\"O there no grass but the leek up-springs,\nAnd there no bird but the cuckoo sings.\n\n\"No other water flows than wine,\nThou may'st believe these words of mine.\"\n\n\"But how from the Castle can I fly?\nSo many watch incessantly.\n\n\"I'm watched by father, watched by mother,\nBy sister I am watched, and brother.\n\n\"I'm watched by the man to whom I'm plighted,\nAnd I fear him more than the rest united.\"\n\n\"Although by all thy clan controll'd,\nThy promise to me thou yet shall hold.\n\n\"In my acton blue I thee will case,\nAnd my golden helm on thy head I'll place.\n\n\"I'll gird thee with my sword of worth,\nThen none will think that a maid rides forth.\n\n\"Decked with my gilded spurs so free,\nThou off may'st ride though thy father see.\"\n\nO'er her he threw his mantle wide,\nAnd set her upon his steed of pride.\n\nWhen on the moor themselves they found,\nMet them a Count, in arms renown'd.\n\n\"Here, Ribolt, hear, dear comrade mine,\nSay, who's that fair young page of thine?\"\n\n\"Comrade, it is my youngest brother,\nI've ta'en him from his doting mother.\"\n\n\"It little avails such tales to tell;\nGulborg, Gulborg, I know thee well.\n\n\"Thy scarlet dress thou may'st disguise,\nBut thy cheeks of rose I recognise.\n\n\"Thy hair I know of fairest sort,\nFor long I've served at thy father's court.\n\n\"By thy garb and shoon I know thee not,\nBut I know the knight who thy troth has got.\"\n\nA bracelet drew she forth of gold,\nAnd gave it to that Count so bold:\n\n\"Where'er thou rest thee at close of day,\nBe sure no word of me thou say.\"\n\nThe Count he rode to Kulloe house,\nWhere the kemps were drinking a deep carouse.\n\nHe enter'd at Sir Truid's gate--\nAt his table wide Sir Truid sate.\n\n\"Here, Truid, thou sitt'st the red wine taking,\nWhilst Ribolt off with thy bride is making.\"\n\nThen through his hall Sir Truid roar'd:\n\"Up, up, ye knights, take helm and sward!\"\n\nBarely a mile had they advanced\nWhen fair Gulborg behind her glanced.\n\n\"O yonder my father's steed I see,\nAnd the knight who is betrothed to me.\"\n\n\"Gulborg, be therefore in no pain,\nBut hold our steeds by the bridle rein.\n\n\"And though to earth thou see me fall,\nGulborg thou must not upon me call.\n\n\"And though thou see me freely bleed,\nLet not my name from thy mouth proceed.\"\n\nHis helm on his head Sir Ribolt cast,\nGulborg with her fair hands laced it fast.\n\nThen, crying his cry, he slays outright\nHer father dear and her plighted knight,\n\nAnd, at the second \"Halloo,\" he slew\nHer brothers with locks of yellow hue.\n\n\"Desist, O Ribolt, my heart's ador'd,\n'Tis time, 'tis time to sheath thy sword.\n\n\"My youngest brother I pray thee spare,\nThat he to my mother may tiding bear;\n\n\"Bear her the tidings of the slaughter,\nO would she never had borne a daughter!\"\n\nScarce had the name of Ribolt sounded,\nWhen Ribolt tottered, deadly wounded.\n\nHe sheathed his faulchion, blood be-dyed:\n\"Come, dear Gulborg, we hence will ride.\"\n\nThey thread the mazes of the wood,\nNo word escaped him, bad or good.\n\n\"Hear, Ribolt, hear, my destined mate,\nWhy art not glad as thou wast of late?\"\n\n\"Gulborg, I feel my life-blood leak,\nGulborg, I feel me faint and weak.\n\n\"But chiefly, chiefly I look not pleas'd\nBecause Death's hand my heart has seiz'd.\"\n\n\"Myself of my girdle I'll dis-array,\nAnd thy streaming blood will stanch and stay.\"\n\n\"God bless thee ever, my own true love,\nOf service slight will thy girdle prove.\"\n\nAnd when to the Castle gate they won,\nHis mother stood there and leaned thereon.\n\n\"Welcome, my son, thou art welcome twice,\nAnd thy fair young bride she is welcome thrice.\n\n\"I ne'er have seen a bride so pale\nCome travelling over hill and dale.\"\n\n\"If pale she be is a wonder slight,\nWhen she has witness'd so hard a fight.\n\n\"God grant I may retain my breath\nWhilst parting presents I bequeath.\n\n\"To my father I give my courser tall,\nO mother I pray thee a priest to call.\n\n\"And unto my brother, who's standing near,\nI give Gulborg whom I love so dear.\"\n\n\"O willingly her to wife I'd take,\nIf, brother, 'twere not for the black sin's sake.\"\n\n\"May the Lord God me in my trouble aid,\nSo sure as she is for me a maid.\n\n\"'Twas only once that I had the bliss\nFrom her rosy mouth to snatch a kiss.\"\n\n\"O better, better to sink in death,\nThan unto two brothers plight my faith.\"\n\nRibolt was dead ere the cock did cry,\nGulborg was dead ere the sun was high.\n\nThey bore from the Castle corses three,\nA handsome corse was each to see.\n\nThe one was Ribolt, the other his bride,\nHis mother the third, of grief she died.\n\n                                * * * * *\n\n                                 LONDON:\n               Printed for THOMAS J. WISE, Hampstead, N.W.\n                   _Edition limited to Thirty Copies_.","title":"Child Maidelvold, and Other Ballads","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":2669}