'Seest thou not yonder hall, Ellen?

Of redd gold shine the yates; There's four and twenty ffayre ladyes, The ffairest is my wordlye make.

19.

'Seest thou not yonder hall, Ellen?

Of redd gold shineth the tower; There is four and twenty ffaire ladyes, The fairest is my paramoure.'

20.

'I doe see the hall now, Child Waters, That of redd gold shineth the yates; God giue good then of your selfe, & of your wordlye make!

21.

'I doe see the hall now, Child Waters, That of redd gold shineth the tower; God giue good then of your selfe, And of your paramoure!'

22.

There were four and twenty ladyes, Were playing att the ball; & Ellen, was the ffairest ladye, Must bring his steed to the stall.

23.

There were four and twenty faire ladyes Was playing att the chesse; & Ellen, shee was the ffairest ladye, Must bring his horsse to grasse.

24.

& then bespake Child Waters sister, & these were the words said shee: 'You haue the prettyest ffootpage, brother, That ever I saw with mine eye;

25.

'But that his belly it is soe bigg, His girdle goes wonderous hye; & euer I pray you, Child Waters, Let him go into the chamber with me.'

26.

'It is more meete for a litle ffootpage, That has run through mosse and mire, To take his supper vpon his knee & sitt downe by the kitchin fyer, Then to go into the chamber with any ladye That weares so [rich] attyre.'

27.

But when the had supped euery one, To bedd they tooke the way; He sayd, 'Come hither, my litle footpage, Hearken what I doe say!

28.

'& goe thee downe into yonder towne, & low into the street; The ffarest ladye that thou can find, Hyer her in mine armes to sleepe, & take her vp in thine armes two, For filinge of her ffeete.'

29.

Ellen is gone into the towne, & low into the streete: The fairest ladye that shee cold find She hyred in his armes to sleepe, & tooke her in her armes two, For filing of her ffeete.

30.

'I pray you now, good Child Waters, That I may creepe in att your bedds feete, For there is noe place about this house Where I may say a sleepe.'

31.

This [night] & itt droue on affterward Till itt was neere the day: He sayd, 'Rise vp, my litle ffoote page, & giue my steed corne & hay; & soe doe thou the good blacke oates, That he may carry me the better away.'

32.

And vp then rose ffaire Ellen, & gave his steed corne & hay, & soe shee did and the good blacke oates, That he might carry him the better away.

33.

Shee layned her backe to the manger side, & greiuouslye did groane; & that beheard his mother deere, And heard her make her moane.

34.

Shee said, 'Rise vp, thou Child Waters!

I thinke thou art a cursed man; For yonder is a ghost in thy stable, That greiuously doth groane, Or else some woman laboures of child, Shee is soe woe begone!'

35.

But vp then rose Child Waters, & did on his shirt of silke; Then he put on his other clothes On his body as white as milke.

36.

& when he came to the stable dore, Full still that hee did stand, That hee might heare now faire Ellen, How shee made her monand.

37.

Shee said, 'Lullabye, my owne deere child!

Lullabye, deere child, deere!

I wold thy father were a king, Thy mother layd on a beere!'

38.

'Peace now,' he said, 'good faire Ellen!

& be of good cheere, I thee pray, & the bridall & the churching both, They shall bee vpon one day.'

[Annotations: 2.2: 'see,' protect. So constantly in this phrase.

18.2: 'yates,' gates.

18.3: In each case the Folio gives '24' for 'four and twenty.'

18.4: 'wordlye make,' worldly mate.

26.6: 'rich' added by Percy.

28.6: 'For filinge,' to save defiling.

30.4: 'say,' essay, attempt.

31.1: 'night.' Child's emendation. Percy read: 'This done, the nighte drove on apace.'

32.3: 'and'; Folio _on_.

36.4: 'monand,' moaning.]

EARL BRAND, THE DOUGLAS TRAGEDY, and THE CHILD OF ELL

There are here put in juxtaposition three versions in ballad-form of the same story, though fragmentary in the two latter cases, not only because each is good, but to show the possibilities of variation in a popular story. There is yet another ballad, _Erlinton_, printed by Sir Walter Scott in the _Minstrelsy_, embodying an almost identical tale. _Earl Brand_ preserves most of the features of a very ancient story with more exactitude than any other traditional ballad. But in this case, as in too many others, we must turn to a Scandinavian ballad for the complete form of the story. A Danish ballad, _Ribold and Guldborg_, gives the fine tale thus:--

Ribold, a king's son, in love with Guldborg, offers to carry her away 'to a land where death and sorrow come not, where all the birds are cuckoos, where all the grass is leeks, where all the streams run with wine.' Guldborg is willing, but doubts whether she can escape the strict watch kept over her by her family and by her betrothed lover. Ribold disguises her in his armour and a cloak, and they ride away. On the moor they meet an earl, who asks, 'Whither away?' Ribold answers that he is taking his youngest sister from a cloister. This does not deceive the earl, nor does a bribe close his mouth; and Guldborg's father, learning that she is away with Ribold, rides with his sons in pursuit. Ribold bids Guldborg hold his horse, and prepares to fight; he tells her that, whatever may chance, she must not call on him by name. Ribold slays her father and some of her kin and six of her brothers; only her youngest brother is left: Guldborg cries, 'Ribold, spare him,' that he may carry tidings to her mother. Immediately Ribold receives a mortal wound. He ceases fighting, sheathes his sword, and says to her, 'Wilt thou go home to thy mother again, or wilt thou follow so sad a swain?' And she says she will follow him. In silence they ride on. 'Why art not thou merry as before?' asks Guldborg. And Ribold answers, 'Thy brother's sword has been in my heart.' They reach his house: he calls for one to take his horse, another to fetch a priest; for his brother shall have Guldborg.

But she refuses. That night dies Ribold, and Guldborg slays herself and dies in his arms.

A second and even more dramatic ballad, _Hildebrand and Hilde_, tells a similar story.

A comparison of the above tale with _Earl Brand_ will show a close agreement in most of the incidents. The chief loss in the English ballad is the request of Ribold, that Guldborg must not speak his name while he fights. The very name 'Brand' is doubtless a direct derivative of 'Hildebrand.' Winchester (13.2), as it implies a nunnery, corresponds to the cloister in the Danish ballad. Earl Brand directs his mother to marry the King's daughter to his youngest brother; but her refusal, if she did as Guldborg did, has been lost.

_The Douglas Tragedy_, a beautiful but fragmentary version, is, says Scott, 'one of the few to which popular tradition has ascribed complete locality.' The ascribed locality, if more complete, is no more probable than any other: to ascribe any definite locality to a ballad is in all cases a waste of time and labour.

_The Child of Ell_, in the Percy Folio, _may_ have contained anything; but immediately we approach a point where comparison would be of interest, we meet an _hiatus valde deflendus_. Percy, in the _Reliques_, expanded the fragment here given to about five times the length.