VI.

THE NOT-BROWNE MAYD.

The sentimental beauties of this ancient ballad have always recommended it to readers of taste, notwithstanding the rust of antiquity which obscures the style and expression. Indeed if it had no other merit than the having afforded the groundwork to Prior's _Henry and Emma_, this ought to preserve it from oblivion. That we are able to give it in so correct a manner, is owing to the great care and exactness of the accurate editor of the _Prolusions_, 8vo. 1760; who has formed the text from two copies found in two different editions of Arnolde's _Chronicle_, a book supposed to be first printed about 1521. From the copy in the _Prolusions_ the following is printed, with a few additional improvements gathered from another edition of Arnolde's book[240] preserved in the public library at Cambridge. All the various readings of this copy will be found here, either received into the text, or noted in the margin. The references to the _Prolusions_ will shew where they occur. In our ancient folio MS.[241] described in the preface, is a very corrupt and defective copy of this ballad, which yet afforded a great improvement in one passage. See v. 310.

It has been a much easier task to settle the text of this poem, than to ascertain its date. The ballad of the _Nutbrowne Mayd_ was first revived in _The Muses Mercury_ for June, 1707, 4to. being prefaced with a little _Essay on the old English Poets and Poetry_; in which this poem is concluded to be "near 300 years old," upon reasons which, though they appear inconclusive to us now, were sufficient to determine Prior, who there first met with it. However, this opinion had the approbation of the learned Wanley, an excellent judge of ancient books. For that whatever related to the reprinting of this old piece was referred to Wanley, appears from two letters of Prior's preserved in the British Museum (Harl. MSS. No. 3777). The editor of the _Prolusions_ thinks it cannot be older than the year 1500, because, in Sir Thomas More's tale of _The Serjeant_, &c., which was written about that time, there appears a sameness of rhythmus and orthography, and a very near affinity of words and phrases with those of this ballad. But this reasoning is not conclusive, for if Sir Thomas More made this ballad his model, as is very likely, that will account for the sameness of measure, and in some respect for that of words and phrases, even tho' this had been written long before; and as for the orthography, it is well known that the old printers reduced that of most books to the standard of their own times. Indeed it is hardly probable that an antiquary like Arnolde would have inserted it among his historical collections, if it had been then a modern piece; at least he would have been apt to have named its author. But to shew how little can be inferred from a resemblance of rhythmus or style, the Editor of these volumes has in his ancient folio MS. a poem on the victory of Flodden-field, written in the same numbers, with the same alliterations, and in orthography, phraseology, and style nearly resembling the _Visions of Pierce Plowman_, which are yet known to have been composed above 160 years before that battle. As this poem is a great curiosity, we shall give a few of the introductory lines:

"Grant gracious God, grant me this time, That I may say, or I cease, thy selven to please; And Mary his mother, that maketh all this world; And all the seemlie saints, that sitten in heaven; I will carpe of kings, that conquered full wide, That dwelled in this land, that was alyes noble; Henry the seaventh, that soveraigne lord," &c.[242]

With regard to the date of the following ballad, we have taken a middle course, neither placed it so high as Wanley and Prior, nor quite so low as the editor of the _Prolusions_; we should have followed the latter in dividing every other line into two, but that the whole would then have taken up more room than could be allowed it in this volume.

* * * * *

[The edition of Richard Arnold's _Chronicle_ (1521) mentioned above, is the second; and the first, which is undated, was printed at Antwerp in 1502. This edition is described in Brydges' _Censurä_ _Literaria_ (vol. vi. p. 114), where the _Nut-Brown Maid_ is printed. A copy from the Balliol MS. 354, of about the same date, is printed in Percy's folio manuscript, ed. Hales and Furnivall, vol iii. p. 174. Warton will not allow that the poem was written before the beginning of the sixteenth century, but as Percy says, it is highly improbable that an antiquary would insert a modern piece in his miscellany of curiosities.

Percy has inserted the following note in his folio MS.: "From the concluding words of this last stanza--

['but men wold that men shold be kind to them eche one, yett I had rather, god to obay and serve but him alone']

it should seem that the author was a woman."

Mr. Skeat remarks that the part of the fourth stanza before the woman speaks, and the first two verses, are still more conclusive on this point. On the other side it is noticeable that the author speaks as a man at line 353:

"... that we may To them be comfortable;"

but this may only be a blind.

Few readers will agree with Percy's estimate of Prior's poem, and _Henry and Emma_ is now only remembered because of its connection with the _Nut-Brown Maid_.

Warton justly points out how the simplicity of the original is decorated, dilated, and consequently spoilt by Prior, who crowds his verses with zephyrs, Chloe, Mars, the Cyprian deity, &c. Such lay figures as these are quite out of keeping with the realities of this most exquisite poem.

One instance of Prior's inability to appreciate the beauties of his original will be sufficient. The tender allusion at v. 232-3:

"O my swete mother, before all other For you I have most drede,"

followed by the reflection:

"But nowe adue! I must ensue Where fortune doth me lede,"

is entirely omitted by the later poet, who changes

"To shorte my here, a bowe to bere, To shote in tyme of nede,"

into

"Wanting the scissors, with these hands I'll tear (If that obstructs my flight) this load of hair."

The _Nut-Brown Maid_ has always been highly popular (a proof of the good taste of the people), and in consequence it figures in Captain Cox's collection described by Laneham. Another proof of its popularity is the existence of various parodies, one of which is of very early date.

It was a common practice in the sixteenth century to turn ordinary ballads into religious songs. _The New Nutbrowne Maid_, printed by John Skot about 1520, reprinted by George Isted in 1820 for the Roxburghe Club, and again reprinted by Dr. Rimbault for the Percy Society (vol. iv.), 1842, is an instance of this practice. It is a close parody of the original, and purports to be "upon the passion of Cryste." The _he_ and _she_ are changed to _Maria the mayde_ and _Jesus_.

Another version is given in the Percy folio MS. (ed. Hales and Furnivall, vol. ii. p. 334), which is entitled _A Jigge_.

The incidents are vulgarized, "but," Mr. Hales observes, "the beauty of the original is too great to be altogether destroyed, however rude the hands that handle it. Something of the charm of the _Nut Brown Maid_ lingers around this _Jig_."]

* * * * *

Be it ryght, or wrong, these men among[243] On women do complayne:[244][245] Affyrmynge this, how that it is A labour spent in vayne, To love them wele; for never a dele[246] 5 They love a man agayne: For late a man do what he can, Theyr favour to attayne, Yet, yf a newe do them persue, Theyr first true lover than 10 Laboureth for nought; for from her[247] thought[248] He is a banyshed man.

I say nat nay, but that all day It is bothe writ and sayd That womans faith is, as who sayth, 15 All utterly decayd; But, neverthelesse, ryght good wytnèsse In this case might be layd, That they love true, and continùe: Recorde the Not-browne Mayde: 20 Which, when her love came, her to prove, To her to make his mone, Wolde nat depart; for in her hart She loved but hym alone.

Than betwaine us late us dyscus 25 What was all the manere Betwayne them two: we wyll also Tell all the payne, and fere,[249] That she was in. Nowe I begyn, So that ye me answère; 30 Wherfore, all ye, that present be I pray you, gyve an ere. "I am the knyght; I come by nyght, As secret as I can; Sayinge, Alas! thus standeth the case, 35 I am a banyshed man."

And I your wyll for to fulfyll In this wyll nat refuse; Trustying to shewe, in wordès fewe, That men have an yll use 40 (To theyr own shame) women to blame, And causelesse them accuse: Therfore to you I answere nowe, All women to excuse,--

SHE.[250]

Myne owne hart dere, with you what chere? 45 I pray you, tell anone; For, in my mynde, of all mankynde I love but you alone.

HE.

It standeth so; a dede is do[251] Wherof grete harme shall growe: 50 My destiny is for to dy A shamefull deth, I trowe; Or elles to fle: the one must be. None other way I knowe, But to withdrawe as an outlawe, 55 And take me to my bowe. Wherfore, adue, my owne hart true! None other rede I can:[252] For I must to the grene wode go, Alone, a banyshed man. 60

SHE.

O lord, what is thys worldys blysse, That changeth as the mone! My somers day in lusty may[253] Is derked[254] before the none. I here you say, farewell: Nay, nay 65 We dèpart[255] nat so sone. Why say ye so? wheder[256] wyll ye go? Alas! what have ye done? All my welfàre to sorrowe and care Sholde chaunge, yf ye were gone; 70 For, in my mynde, of all mankynde I love but you alone.

HE.

I can beleve, it shall you greve, And somewhat you dystrayne;[257] But, aftyrwarde, your paynes harde 75 Within a day or twayne Shall sone aslake;[258] and ye shall take Comfort to you agayne. Why sholde ye ought? for, to make thought, Your labour were in vayne. 80 And thus I do; and pray you to, As hartely,[259] as I can; For I must to the grene wode go, Alone, a banyshed man.

SHE.

Now, syth that ye have shewed to me 85 The secret of your mynde, I shall be playne to you agayne, Lyke as ye shall me fynde. Syth it is so, that ye wyll go, I wolle not leve[260] behynde; 90 Shall never be sayd, the Not-browne Mayd[261] Was to her love unkynde: Make you redy, for so am I, Allthough it were anone;[262] For, in my mynde, of all mankynde 95 I love but you alone.

HE.

Yet I you rede[263] to take good hede What men wyll thynke, and say: Of yonge, and olde it shall be tolde, That ye be gone away, 100 Your wanton wyll for to fulfill, In grene wode you to play; And that ye myght from your delyght No lenger make delay. Rather than ye sholde thus for me 105 Be called an yll womàn, Yet wolde I to the grene wode go, Alone, a banyshed man.

SHE.

Though it be songe of old and yonge, That I sholde be to blame, 110 Theyrs be the charge, that speke so large In hurtynge of my name: For I wyll prove, that faythfulle love It is devoyd of shame; In your dystresse, and hevynesse, 115 To part with you, the same: And sure all tho,[264] that do not so,[265] True lovers are they none; For, in my mynde, of all mankynde I love but you alone. 120

HE.

I counceyle you, remember howe, It is no maydens lawe, Nothynge to dout, but to renne[266] out To wode with an outlàwe: For ye must there in your hand bere 125 A bowe, redy to drawe; And, as a thefe, thus must you lyve, Ever in drede and awe; Wherby to you grete harme myght growe: Yet had I lever than,[267] 130 That I had to the grene wode go, Alone, a banyshed man.

SHE.

I thinke nat nay, but as ye say,[268] It is no maydens lore: But love may make me for your sake, 135 As I have sayd before To come on fote, to hunt, and shote To gete us mete in store;[269] For so that I your company May have, I aske no more: 140 From which to part, it maketh my hart As colde as ony stone; For, in my mynde, of all mankynde I love but you alone.

HE.

For an outlawe this is the lawe, 145 That men hym take and bynde; Without pytè, hanged to be, And waver with the wynde. If I had nede, (as God forbede!) What rescous[270] coude ye fynde?[271] 150 Forsoth, I trowe, ye and your bowe For fere wolde drawe behynde: And no mervayle; for lytell avayle Were in your counceyle than: Wherfore I wyll to the grene wode go, 155 Alone, a banyshed man.

SHE.

Ryght wele knowe ye, that women be But feble for to fyght; No womanhede it is indede To be bolde as a knyght: 160 Yet, in such fere yf that ye were With enemyes day or nyght,[272] I wolde withstande, with bowe in hande, To greve them as I myght,[273] And you to save; as women have 165 From deth 'men' many one: For, in my mynde, of all mankynde I love but you alone.

HE.

Yet take good hede; for ever I drede That ye coude nat sustayne 170 The thornie wayes, the depe valèies, The snowe, the frost, the rayne,[274] The colde, the hete: for dry, or wete, We must lodge on the playne;[275] And, us above, none other rofe 175 But a brake bush, or twayne: Which sone sholde greve you, I beleve; And ye wolde gladly than That I had to the grene wode go, Alone, a banyshed man. 180

SHE.

Syth I have here bene partynère With you of joy and blysse, I must also parte of your wo Endure, as reson is: Yet am I sure of one plesùre; 185 And, shortely, it is this: That, where ye be, me semeth, pardè, I coude nat fare amysse. Without more speche, I you beseche That we were sone agone;[276] 190 For, in my mynde, of all mankynde I love but you alone.

HE.

If ye go thyder, ye must consyder, Whan ye have lust to dyne, There shall no mete be for you gete, 195 Nor drinke, bere, ale, ne wyne.[277] No shetés clene, to lye betwene, Made of threde and twyne; None other house, but leves and bowes, To cover your hed and myne, 200 O myne harte swete, this evyll dyéte[278] Sholde make you pale and wan; Wherfore I wyll to the grene wode go, Alone, a banyshed man.

SHE.

Amonge the wylde dere, such an archère, 205 As men say that ye be, Ne may nat fayle of good vitayle,[279] Where is so grete plentè: And water clere of the ryvére Shall be full swete to me; 210 With which in hele[280] I shall ryght wele Endure, as ye shall see; And, or we go, a bedde or two I can provyde anone; For, in my mynde, of all mankynde 215 I love but you alone.

HE.

Lo yet, before, ye must do more, Yf ye wyll go with me: As cut your here up by your ere,[281][282] Your kyrtel by the kne;[283] 220 With bowe in hande, for to withstande Your enemyes, yf nede be: And this same nyght before day-lyght,[284] To wode-warde wyll I fle. Yf that ye wyll all this fulfill, 225 Do it shortely as ye can; Els wyll I to the grene wode go, Alone, a banyshed man.

SHE.

I shall as nowe do more for you Than longeth to womanhede; 230 To shorte my here,[285] a bowe to bere, To shote in tyme of nede. O my swete mother, before all other For you I have most drede: But nowe, adue! I must ensue,[286] 235 Where fortune doth me lede. All this make ye: Now let us fle; The day cometh fast upon; For, in my mynde, of all mankynde I love but you alone. 240

HE.

Nay, nay, nat so; ye shall nat go, And I shall tell ye why,-- Your appetyght is to be lyght Of love, I wele espy: For, lyke as ye have sayed to me, 245 In lyke wyse hardely Ye wolde answére whosoever it were, In way of company. It is sayd of olde, Sone hote, sone colde; And so is a womàn. 250 Wherfore I to the wode wyll go,[287] Alone, a banyshed man.

SHE.

Yf ye take hede, it is no nede[288] Such wordes to say by me; For oft ye prayed, and longe assayed, 255 Or[289] I you loved, pardè:[290] And though that I of auncestry A barons daughter be, Yet have you proved howe I you loved A squyer of lowe degrè; 260 And ever shall, whatso befall; To dy therfore[291] anone;[292] For, in my mynde, of all mankynde I love but you alone.

HE.

A barons chylde to be begylde! 265 It were a cursed dede; To be felàwe with an outlawe! Almighty God forbede! Yet beter were, the pore squyère Alone to forest yede,[293] 270 Than ye sholde say another day, That, by my cursed dede, Ye were betray'd: Wherfore, good mayd, The best rede[294] that I can, Is, that I to the grene wode go, 275 Alone, a banyshed man.

SHE.

Whatever befall, I never shall Of this thyng you upbrayd:[295] But yf ye go, and leve me so, Than have ye me betrayd. 280 Remember you wele, howe that ye dele; For, yf ye, as ye sayd,[296] Be so unkynde, to leve behynde,[297] Your love, the Not-browne Mayd, Trust me truly, that I shall dy 285 Sone after ye be gone; For, in my mynde, of all mankynde I love but you alone.

HE.

Yf that ye went, ye sholde repent; For in the forest nowe 290 I have purvayed[298] me of a mayd, Whom I love more than you; Another fayrère, than ever ye were, I dare it wele avowe; And of you bothe eche sholde be wrothe 295 With other, as I trowe: It were myne ese, to lyve in pese; So wyll I, yf I can; Wherfore I to the wode wyll go, Alone, a banyshed man. 300

SHE.

Though in the wode I undyrstode Ye had a paramour, All this may nought remove my thought, But that I wyll be your: And she shall fynde me soft, and kynde, 305 And courteys every hour; Glad to fulfyll all that she wyll Commaunde me to my power: For had ye, lo, an hundred mo, 'Of them I wolde be one;'[299] 310 For, in my mynde, of all mankynde I love but you alone.

HE.

Myne owne dere love, I se the prove That ye be kynde, and true; Of mayde, and wyfe, in all my lyfe,[300] 315 The best that ever I knewe. Be mery and glad, be no more sad, The case is chaunged newe; For it were ruthe, that, for your truthe, Ye sholde have cause to rewe. 320 Be nat dismayed; whatsoever I sayd To you, whan I began; I wyll nat to the grene wode go, I am no banyshed man.

SHE.

These tydings be more gladd to me,[301] 325 Than to be made a quene, Yf I were sure they sholde endure: But it is often sene, Whan men wyll breke promyse, they speke The wordés on the splene.[302] 330 Ye shape some wyle me to begyle, And stele from me, I wene: Than, were the case worse than it was, And I more wo-begone: For, in my mynde, of all mankynde 335 I love but you alone.

HE.

Ye shall nat nede further to drede; I wyll nat dysparàge You, (God defend)! syth ye descend Of so grete a lynàge.[303] 340 Nowe undyrstande; to Westmarlande, Which is myne herytage, I wyll you brynge; and with a rynge, By way of maryage I wyll you take, and lady make, 345 As shortely as I can: Thus have you won an erlys son,[304] And not a banyshed man.[305]

AUTHOR.

Here may ye se, that women be In love, meke, kynde, and stable; 350 Late[306] never man reprove them than, Or call them variable;[307] But, rather, pray God, that we may To them be comfortable; Which sometyme proveth such, as he loveth,[308] 355 Yf they be charytable. For syth men wolde that women sholde[309] Be meke to them each one; Moche more ought they to God obey, And serve but hym alone. 360

FOOTNOTES:

[240] This (which my friend Mr. Farmer supposes to be the first edition) is in folio; the folios are numbered at the bottom of the leaf, the song begins at folio 75. The poem has since been collated with a very fine copy that was in the collection of the late James West, Esq.; the readings extracted thence are denoted thus, "Mr. W."

[241] [Hales and Furnivall's edition, vol. iii. p. 174.]

[242] [Folio Manuscript, ed. Hales and Furnivall, vol. i. p. 212.]

[243] [at intervals, sometimes.]

[244] My friend Mr. Farmer proposes to read the first lines thus as a Latinism:

"Be it right or wrong, 'tis men among, On women to complayne."

[245] [Ver. 2. Woman, _Prolusions_ and Mr. West's copy.]

[246] [not a bit.]

[247] [their.]

[248] [V. 11. her, _i.e._ their.]

[249] [pain and fear. In the Balliol MS. 354, the reading is _in-fere_ (or in company with her lover).]

[250] [Percy printed the "She" at the beginning of this stanza.]

[251] [done.]

[252] [advice I know.]

[253] Ver. 63. The somers, _Prol._

[254] [darkened.]

[255] [separate.]

[256] [whither.]

[257] [afflict.]

[258] [abate.]

[259] [earnestly.]

[260] [remain.]

[261] Ver. 91. Shall it never, _Prol._ and Mr. W.

[262] V. 94. Althought, Mr. W.

[263] [advise.]

[264] [those.]

[265] Ver. 117. To shewe all, _Prol._ and Mr. W.

[266] [run.]

[267] [rather then.]

[268] V. 133. I say nat, _Prol._ and Mr. W.

[269] Ver. 138. and store, Camb. copy.

[270] [rescue.]

[271] V. 150. succours, _Prol._ and Mr. W.

[272] V. 162. and night, Camb. copy.

[273] V. 164. to helpe ye with my myght, _Prol._ and Mr. W.

[274] Ver. 172. frost and rayne, Mr. W.

[275] V. 174. Ye must, _Prol._

[276] V. 190. shortley gone, _Prol._ and Mr. W.

[277] Ver. 196. Neyther bere, _Prol._ and Mr. W.

[278] V. 201. Lo myn, Mr. W.

[279] V. 207. May ye nat fayle, _Prol. Ib._ May nat fayle, Mr. W.

[280] [health.]

[281] [hair up by your ear.]

[282] V. 219. above your ere, _Prol._

[283] V. 220. above the kne, _Prol._ and Mr. W.

[284] Ver. 223. the same, _Prol._ and Mr. W.

[285] [shorten my hair.]

[286] [follow.]

[287] Ver. 251. For I must to the grene wode go, _Prol._ and Mr. W.

[288] V. 253. yet is, Camb. copy. Perhaps for yt is.

[289] [ere.]

[290] [_par Dieu_.]

[291] _i.e._ for this cause; tho' I were to die for having loved you.

[292] V. 262. dy with him, Editor's MS.

[293] [went.]

[294] [advice.]

[295] Ver. 278. outbrayd, _Prol._ and Mr. W.

[296] V. 282. ye be as, _Prol._ and Mr. W.

[297] V. 283. Ye were unkynde to leve me behynde, _Prol._ and Mr. W.

[298] [provided.]

[299] Ver. 310. So the Editor's MS. All the printed copies read, Yet wold I be that one.

[300] V. 315. of all, _Prol._ and Mr. W.

[301] V. 325. gladder, _Prol._ and Mr. W.

[302] [in haste.]

[303] Ver. 340. grete lynyage, _Prol._ and Mr. W.

[304] V. 347. Then have, _Prol._

[305] V. 348. And no banyshed, _Prol._ and Mr. W.

[306] [let.]

[307] V. 352. This line wanting in _Prol._ and Mr. W.

[308] V. 355. proved--loved, _Prol._ and Mr. W. _Ib._ as loveth, Camb.

[309] V. 357. Forsoth, _Prol._ and Mr. W.