Читать книгу English and Scottish Ballads (Vol. 1-8) - Various Authors - Страница 25

The following rhymed legend, which, like several other pieces in this Book, can be called a ballad only by an objectionable, though common, extension of the term, was printed by Percy (with some alterations) from two "ancient" black-letter copies in the Pepys collection.

Real popular ballads on St. George's victory over the Dragon exist in several languages, though not in English.2 Such a ballad is known to have been sung by the Swedes at the battle of Brunkeberg in 1471, and one is still sung by the people both of Denmark and Sweden. Grundtvig gives three copies of the Danish ballad, two of the 16th and 17th centuries, and one of the present. Four versions of the Swedish have been published, of various ages (e.g. Svenska Folkvisor, ii. 252). A German ballad is given by Meinert, Altdeutsche Volkslieder, p. 254; after him by Erlach, iv. 258; and Haupt and Schmaler have printed two widely different versions of the ballad in Wendish, Volkslieder der Wenden, vol. i. No. 285, ii. No. 195. These are all the proper traditional ballads upon this subject which are known to be preserved, unless we include a piece called Jürg Drachentödter in Zuccalmaglio's Deutsche Volkslieder, No. 37, which is of suspicious authenticity. The piece called Ritter St. Georg, in Des Knaben Wunderhorn, i. 151, is not a proper ballad, but a rhymed legend, like the one here printed, though intended to be sung.

The hero of these ballads, St. George of Cappadocia, is said to have suffered martyrdom during the persecution in Syria, in the year 303. In the 6th century he was a recognized saint both in the western and the eastern churches, and his reputation was limited to this character until the 13th. Reinbot von Dorn, (1231–53,) in his poem Der Heilige Georg, (Von der Hagen and Büsching's Deutsche Gedichte des Mittelalters,) and Vincent de Beauvais (died 1262) in his Speculum Historiale (XII. 131–32), content themselves with recounting his martyrdom, and appear to know nothing about his fight with the Dragon. The first known writer who attributes this exploit to St. George is Jacobus a Voragine (died 1298), in the Golden Legend. Of course it does not follow that the story originated there. It is probable that the legend of the Dragon arose at the time of the Crusades, and indeed was partly occasioned by them, though we ought not hastily to admit, what has been suggested, that it was founded upon some tradition which the Crusaders heard in Syria.

The Byzantians had long before ascribed various miracles to St. George, but it was the Normans, who, so to say, first pressed him into active military service. It was he that commanded the heavenly host that came to the help of the Crusaders against the Turks, under the walls of Antioch, in the year 1098, on which occasion he was seen on his white horse, bearing the white banner with the red cross. He manifested himself again at the storming of Jerusalem in the following year, and a hundred years later was seen to fight in the front rank against the Moors in Spain, and for Frederic Barbarossa, in his crusade in 1190. But though he had entered into the service of the German emperor, this did not prevent his aiding the orthodox William of Holland in taking Aix-la-Chapelle from the excommunicated Emperor Frederic in 1248.—The most various races have contended for his protection. His feast was in 1222 ordered to be kept as a holiday throughout all England: from the beginning of the 14th century, or since the Mongol dominion was shaken off, he has been one of the guardian saints of Russia: in 1468, the Emperor Frederic III. founded the Austrian Order of St. George for the protection of the Empire against the Turks, and a few years later, in 1471, at the momentous battle of Brunkeberg, his name was the war-cry of both parties, Swedes and Danes.

That the subjugation of the Dragon (a symbolical mode of representing the extinction of Evil common to all times and peoples) should be attributed to St. George, would seem to be sufficiently explained by his having become the Christian Hero of the Middle Ages. A special reason may, however, be alleged for his connection with such a legend. Long before the Crusades, he was depicted by the artists of the Oriental Church as the Great Martyr, with the Dragon (Anti-Christ or the Devil) at his feet, and a crowned virgin (the Church) at his side. In like manner had Constantine the Great had himself drawn, and many other saints are represented in the same way, as Theodore, Victor, and Margaret. This symbolic representation would naturally lead to the Crusaders making St. George the hero in an achievement which was well known in connection with other names: and it would then not be too much to assume that the Normans (who, as already said, were the first to recognize his presence in battle)—the same Normans who were properly the creators of the romantic poetry of the Middle Ages—were also the first to connect St. George with the conquest of the Dragon.

But however we may account for St. George's being introduced into such a legend, so much is sure; that from the 14th century on, the story and the hero have been inseparable: all the legendaries and all the pictures of him exhibit him as the conqueror of the Dragon: his martyrdom is nearly lost sight of, and in ballads is entirely forgotten.—As to the place which was the scene of the fight, there are many opinions. Some have fixed it in Cappadocia, others in Lybia, others in Syria, and some European nations have assigned the adventure to a locality within their own bounds. Thus the Wallachians lay the scene at Orwoza, one of the Wendish ballads at Berlin, the Germans at Leipsic, the Dutch at Oudenarde, and—the people of the island of Funen at Svendborg!

Of Hector's deeds did Homer sing,

And of the sack of stately Troy,

What griefs fair Helena did bring,

Which was Sir Paris' only joy:

5 And by my pen I will recite

St. George's deeds, an English knight.

Against the Sarazens so rude

Fought he full long and many a day,

Where many gyaunts he subdu'd,

10 In honour of the Christian way;

And after many adventures past,

To Egypt land he came at last.

Now, as the story plain doth tell,

Within that countrey there did rest

15 A dreadful dragon, fierce and fell,

Whereby they were full sore opprest:

Who by his poisonous breath each day

Did many of the city slay.

The grief whereof did grow so great

20 Throughout the limits of the land,

That they their wise men did intreat

To shew their cunning out of hand;

What way they might this fiend destroy,

That did the countrey thus annoy.

25 The wise men all before the king,

This answer fram'd incontinent:

The dragon none to death might bring

By any means they could invent;

His skin more hard than brass was found,

That sword nor spear could pierce nor wound.

30 When this the people understood,

They cryed out most piteouslye,

The dragon's breath infects their blood,

That every day in heaps they dye;

35 Among them such a plague is bred,

The living scarce could bury the dead.

No means there were, as they could hear,

For to appease the dragon's rage,

But to present some virgin clear,

40 Whose blood his fury might asswage;

Each day he would a maiden eat,

For to allay his hunger great.

This thing by art the wise men found,

Which truly must observed be;

45 Wherefore, throughout the city round,

A virgin pure of good degree

Was, by the king's commission, still

Taken up to serve the dragon's will.

Thus did the dragon every day

50 Untimely crop some virgin flowr,

Till all the maids were worn away,

And none were left him to devour;

Saving the king's fair daughter bright,

Her father's only heart's delight.

55 Then came the officers to the king,

That heavy message to declare,

Which did his heart with sorrow sting;

"She is," quoth he, "my kingdom's heir:

O let us all be poisoned here,

60 Ere she should die, that is my dear."

Then rose the people presently,

And to the king in rage they went;

They said his daughter dear should dye,

The dragon's fury to prevent:

65 "Our daughters all are dead," quoth they,

"And have been made the dragon's prey;

"And by their blood we rescued were,

And thou hast sav'd thy life thereby;

And now in sooth it is but faire,

70 For us thy daughter so should die."

"O save my daughter," said the king,

"And let ME feel the dragon's sting."

Then fell fair Sabra on her knee,

And to her father dear did say,

75 "O father, strive not thus for me,

But let me be the dragon's prey;

It may be, for my sake alone

This plague upon the land was thrown.

"'Tis better I should dye," she said,

80 "Than all your subjects perish quite;

Perhaps the dragon here was laid,

For my offence to work his spite,

And after he hath suckt my gore,

Your land shall feel the grief no more."

85 "What hast thou done, my daughter dear,

For to deserve this heavy scourge?

It is my fault, as may appear,

Which makes the gods our state to purge;

Then ought I die, to stint the strife,

90 And to preserve thy happy life."

Like mad-men, all the people cried,

"Thy death to us can do no good;

Our safely only doth abide

In making her the dragon's food."

95 "Lo! here I am, I come," quoth she,

"Therefore do what you will with me."

"Nay stay, dear daughter," quoth the queen,

"And as thou art a virgin bright,

That hast for vertue famous been,

100 So let me cloath thee all in white;

And crown thy head with flowers sweet,

An ornament for virgins meet."

And when she was attired so,

According to her mother's mind,

105 Unto the stake then did she go,

To which her tender limbs they bind;

And being bound to stake a thrall,

She bade farewell unto them all.

"Farewell, my father dear," quoth she,

110 "And my sweet mother, meek and mild;

Take you no thought nor weep for me,

For you may have another child;

Since for my country's good I dye,

Death I receive most willinglye."

115 The king and queen and all their train

With weeping eyes went then their way,

And let their daughter there remain,

To be the hungry dragon's prey:

But as she did there weeping lye,

120 Behold St. George came riding by.

And seeing there a lady bright

So rudely tyed unto a stake,

As well became a valiant knight,

He straight to her his way did take:

125 "Tell me, sweet maiden," then quoth he,

"What caitif thus abuseth thee?

"And, lo! by Christ his cross I vow,

Which here is figured on my breast,

I will revenge it on his brow,

130 And break my lance upon his chest:"

And speaking thus whereas he stood,

The dragon issued from the wood.

The lady, that did first espy

The dreadful dragon coming so,

135 Unto St. George aloud did cry,

And willed him away to go;

"Here comes that cursed fiend," quoth she,

"That soon will make an end of me."

St. George then looking round about,

140 The fiery dragon soon espy'd,

And like a knight of courage stout,

Against him did most fiercely ride;

And with such blows he did him greet,

He fell beneath his horse's feet.

145 For with his launce, that was so strong,

As he came gaping in his face,

In at his mouth he thrust along;

For he could pierce no other place:

And thus within the lady's view

150 This mighty dragon straight he slew.

The savour of his poisoned breath

Could do this holy knight no harm;

Thus he the lady sav'd from death,

And home he led her by the arm;

155 Which when King Ptolemy did see,

There was great mirth and melody.

When as that valiant champion there

Had slain the dragon in the field,

To court he brought the lady fair,

160 Which to their hearts much joy did yield,

He in the court of Egypt staid

Till he most falsely was betray'd.

That lady dearly lov'd the knight,

He counted her his only joy;

165 But when their love was brought to light,

It turn'd unto their great annoy.

Th' Morocco king was in the court,

Who to the orchard did resort;

Dayly, to take the pleasant air;

170 For pleasure sake he us'd to walk;

Under a wall he oft did hear

St. George with Lady Sabra talk;

Their love he shew'd unto the king,

Which to St. George great woe did bring.

175 Those kings together did devise

To make the Christian knight away:

With letters him in curteous wise

They straightway sent to Persia,

But wrote to the sophy him to kill,

180 And treacherously his blood to spill.

Thus they for good did him reward

With evil, and most subtilly,

By such vile meanes, they had regard

To work his death most cruelly;

185 Who, as through Persia land he rode,

With zeal destroy'd each idol god.

For which offence he straight was thrown

Into a dungeon dark and deep;

Where, when he thought his wrongs upon,

190 He bitterly did wail and weep:

Yet like a knight of courage stout,

At length his way he digged out.

Three grooms of the King of Persia

By night this valiant champion slew,

195 Though he had fasted many a day,

And then away from thence he flew

On the best steed the sophy had;

Which when he knew he was full mad.

Towards Christendom he made his flight,

200 But met a gyant by the way,

With whom in combat he did fight

Most valiantly a summer's day:

Who yet, for all his bats of steel,

Was forc'd the sting of death to feel.

205 Back o'er the seas, with many bands

Of warlike souldiers soon he past,

Vowing upon those heathen lands

To work revenge; which at the last,

Ere thrice three years were gone and spent,

210 He wrought unto his heart's content.

Save onely Egypt land he spar'd,

For Sabra bright her only sake,

And, ere for her he had regard,

He meant a tryal kind to make:

215 Meanwhile the king, o'ercome in field,

Unto Saint George did quickly yield.

Then straight Morocco's king he slew,

And took fair Sabra to his wife,

But meant to try if she were true,

220 Ere with her he would lead his life;

And, tho' he had her in his train,

She did a virgin pure remain.

Toward England then that lovely dame

The brave St. George conducted strait,

225 An eunuch also with them came,

Who did upon the lady wait.

These three from Egypt went alone:

Now mark St. George's valour shown.

When as they in a forest were,

230 The lady did desire to rest:

Meanwhile St. George to kill a deer

For their repast did think it best:

Leaving her with the eunuch there,

Whilst he did go to kill the deer.

235 But lo! all in his absence came

Two hungry lyons, fierce and fell,

And tore the eunuch on the same

In pieces small, the truth to tell;

Down by the lady then they laid,

240 Whereby they shew'd she was a maid.

But when he came from hunting back,

And did behold this heavy chance,

Then for his lovely virgin's sake

His courage strait he did advance,

245 And came into the lions sight,

Who ran at him with all their might.

Their rage did him no whit dismay,

Who, like a stout and valiant knight,

Did both the hungry lyons slay

250 Within the Lady Sabra's sight:

Who all this while, sad and demure,

There stood most like a virgin pure.

Now when St. George did surely know

This lady was a virgin true,

255 His heart was glad, that erst was woe,

And all his love did soon renew:

He set her on a palfrey steed,

And towards England came with speed.

Where being in short space arriv'd

260 Unto his native dwelling place,

Therein with his dear love he liv'd,

And fortune did his nuptials grace:

They many years of joy did see,

And led their lives at Coventry.