The following ballad has a bit of a faerie tale feel about it, in that a young man faces a challenge and wins a rich bride. The odd thing is that Bell, who collected this in Ancient Poems, Ballads, and Songs of the Peasantry of England, insists it’s based on a true story and gives a specific couple and date. They married in 1705, so it’s rather late for Ars Magica, but odd backgrounds are always useful. Thanks to the Librivox reader, Linda Marie Neilson, and their production team.
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PART I.
SHOWING CUPID’S CONQUEST OVER A COY LADY OF FIVE THOUSAND A YEAR.
Bachelors of every station,
Mark this strange and true relation,
Which in brief to you I bring,—
Never was a stranger thing!
You shall find it worth the hearing;
Loyal love is most endearing,
When it takes the deepest root,
Yielding charms and gold to boot.
Some will wed for love of treasure;
But the sweetest joy and pleasure
Is in faithful love, you’ll find,
Gracèd with a noble mind.
Such a noble disposition
Had this lady, with submission,
Of whom I this sonnet write,
Store of wealth, and beauty bright.
She had left, by a good grannum,
Full five thousand pounds per annum,
Which she held without control;
Thus she did in riches roll.
Though she had vast store of riches,
Which some persons much bewitches,
Yet she bore a virtuous mind,
Not the least to pride inclined.
Many noble persons courted
This young lady, ’tis reported;
But their labour proved in vain,
They could not her favour gain.
Though she made a strong resistance,
Yet by Cupid’s true assistance,
She was conquered after all;
How it was declare I shall.
Being at a noble wedding,
Near the famous town of Redding, [92]
A young gentleman she saw,
Who belongèd to the law.
As she viewed his sweet behaviour,
Every courteous carriage gave her
New addition to her grief;
Forced she was to seek relief.
Privately she then enquired
About him, so much admired;
Both his name, and where he dwelt,—
Such was the hot flame she felt.
Then, at night, this youthful lady
Called her coach, which being ready,
Homewards straight she did return;
But her heart with flames did burn.
PART II.
SHOWING THE LADY’S LETTER OF A CHALLENGE TO FIGHT HIM UPON HIS REFUSING TO WED HER IN A MASK, WITHOUT KNOWING WHO SHE WAS.
Night and morning, for a season,
In her closet would she reason
With herself, and often said,
‘Why has love my heart betrayed?
‘I, that have so many slighted,
Am at length so well requited;
For my griefs are not a few!
Now I find what love can do.
‘He that has my heart in keeping,
Though I for his sake be weeping,
Little knows what grief I feel;
But I’ll try it out with steel.
‘For I will a challenge send him,
And appoint where I’ll attend him,
In a grove, without delay,
By the dawning of the day.
‘He shall not the least discover
That I am a virgin lover,
By the challenge which I send;
But for justice I contend.
‘He has causèd sad distraction,
And I come for satisfaction,
Which if he denies to give,
One of us shall cease to live.’
Having thus her mind revealed,
She her letter closed and sealed;
Which, when it came to his hand,
The young man was at a stand.
In her letter she conjured him
For to meet, and well assured him,
Recompence he must afford,
Or dispute it with the sword.
Having read this strange relation,
He was in a consternation;
But, advising with his friend,
He persuades him to attend.
‘Be of courage, and make ready,
Faint heart never won fair lady;
In regard it must be so,
I along with you must go.’
PART III.
SHOWING HOW THEY MET BY APPOINTMENT IN A GROVE, WHERE SHE OBLIGED HIM TO FIGHT OR WED HER.
Early on a summer’s morning,
When bright Phoebus was adorning
Every bower with his beams,
The fair lady came, it seems.
At the bottom of a mountain,
Near a pleasant crystal fountain,
There she left her gilded coach,
While the grove she did approach.
Covered with her mask, and walking,
There she met her lover talking
With a friend that he had brought;
So she asked him whom he sought.
‘I am challenged by a gallant,
Who resolves to try my talent;
Who he is I cannot say,
But I hope to show him play.’
‘It is I that did invite you,
You shall wed me, or I’ll fight you,
Underneath those spreading trees;
Therefore, choose you which you please.
‘You shall find I do not vapour,
I have brought my trusty rapier;
Therefore, take your choice,’ said she,
‘Either fight or marry me.’
Said he, ‘Madam, pray what mean you?
In my life I’ve never seen you;
Pray unmask, your visage show,
Then I’ll tell you aye or no.’
‘I will not my face uncover
Till the marriage ties are over;
Therefore, choose you which you will,
Wed me, sir, or try your skill.
‘Step within that pleasant bower,
With your friend one single hour;
Strive your thoughts to reconcile,
And I’ll wander here the while.’
While this beauteous lady waited,
The young bachelors debated
What was best for to be done:
Quoth his friend, ‘The hazard run.
‘If my judgment can be trusted,
Wed her first, you can’t be worsted;
If she’s rich, you’ll rise to fame,
If she’s poor, why! you’re the same.’
He consented to be married;
All three in a coach were carried
To a church without delay,
Where he weds the lady gay.
Though sweet pretty Cupids hovered
Round her eyes, her face was covered
With a mask,—he took her thus,
Just for better or for worse.
With a courteous kind behaviour,
She presents his friend a favour,
And withal dismissed him straight,
That he might no longer wait.
PART IV.
SHOWING HOW THEY RODE TOGETHER IN HER GILDED COACH TO HER NOBLE SEAT, OR CASTLE, ETC.
As the gilded coach stood ready,
The young lawyer and his lady
Rode together, till they came
To her house of state and fame;
Which appearèd like a castle,
Where you might behold a parcel
Of young cedars, tall and straight,
Just before her palace gate.
Hand in hand they walked together,
To a hall, or parlour, rather,
Which was beautiful and fair,—
All alone she left him there.
Two long hours there he waited
Her return;—at length he fretted,
And began to grieve at last,
For he had not broke his fast.
Still he sat like one amazed,
Round a spacious room he gazed,
Which was richly beautified;
But, alas! he lost his bride.
There was peeping, laughing, sneering,
All within the lawyer’s hearing;
But his bride he could not see;
‘Would I were at home!’ thought he.
While his heart was melancholy,
Said the steward, brisk and jolly,
‘Tell me, friend, how came you here?
You’ve some bad design, I fear.’
He replied, ‘Dear loving master,
You shall meet with no disaster
Through my means, in any case,—
Madam brought me to this place.’
Then the steward did retire,
Saying, that he would enquire
Whether it was true or no:
Ne’er was lover hampered so.
Now the lady who had filled him
With those fears, full well beheld him
From a window, as she dressed,
Pleasèd at the merry jest.
When she had herself attired
In rich robes, to be admired,
She appearèd in his sight,
Like a moving angel bright.
‘Sir! my servants have related,
How some hours you have waited
In my parlour,—tell me who
In my house you ever knew?’
‘Madam! if I have offended,
It is more than I intended;
A young lady brought me here:’—
‘That is true,’ said she, ‘my dear.
‘I can be no longer cruel
To my joy, and only jewel;
Thou art mine, and I am thine,
Hand and heart I do resign!
‘Once I was a wounded lover,
Now these fears are fairly over;
By receiving what I gave,
Thou art lord of what I have.’
Beauty, honour, love, and treasure,
A rich golden stream of pleasure,
With his lady he enjoys;
Thanks to Cupid’s kind decoys.
Now he’s clothed in rich attire,
Not inferior to a squire;
Beauty, honour, riches’ store,
What can man desire more?
Games From Folktales 