Читать книгу English and Scottish Ballads (Vol. 1-8) - Various Authors - Страница 80

In the manuscript from which these verses are taken, they form the preface to a long strain of incomprehensible prophecies of the same description as those which are appended to Thomas of Ersyldoune. Whether the two portions belong together, or not, (and it will be seen that they are ill enough joined,) the first alone requires to be cited here for the purpose of comparison with the Wee Wee Man. The whole piece has been twice printed, first by Finlay, in his Scottish Ballads, (ii. 163,) and afterwards, by a person who was not aware that he had been anticipated, in the Retrospective Review, Second Series, vol. ii. p. 326. Both texts are in places nearly unintelligible, and are evidently full of errors, part of which we must ascribe to the incompetency of the editors. Finlay's is here adopted as on the whole the best, but it has received a few corrections from the other, and one or two conjectural emendations.

Als y yod on ay Mounday

Bytwene Wyltinden and Wall,

The ane after brade way,

Ay litel man y mette with alle,

5 The leste yat ever y, sathe to say,

Oither in bowr, oither in halle;

His robe was noither grene na gray,

Bot alle yt was of riche palle.

On me he cald, and bad me bide;

10 Well stille y stode ay litel space;

Fra Lanchestre the parke syde

Yeen he come, wel fair his pase.

He hailsed me with mikel pride;

Ic haved wel mykel ferly wat he was;

15 I saide—"Wel mote the betyde,

That litel man with large face."

I beheld that litel man

Bi the strete als we gon gae;

His berd was syde ay large span,

20 And glided als the fether of pae;

His heved was wyte als ony swan,

His hegehen was gret and grai als so;

Brues lange, wel I the can

Merk it to fize inches and mae.

25 Armes scort, for sothe I saye,

Ay span seemed thaem to bee:

Handes brade vytouten nay,

And fingeres lange, he scheued me.

Ay stane he tok op thar it lay,

30 And castit forth that I moth see;

Ay merk-soot of large way

Bifore me strides he castit three.

Wel stille I stod als did the stane,

To loke him on thouth me nouth lang;

35 His robe was alle gold begane,

Wel craftelike maked, I understande; Botones asurd, everlk ane, Fra his elbouthe ontil his hande; Erdelik man was he nane; 40 That in myn hert ich onderstande.

Til him I sayde ful sone on ane,

For forthirmar I wald him fraine,

"Gladli wald I wit thi name, And I wist wat me mouthe gaine; 45 Thou ert so litel of fleshe and bane, And so mikel of mith and mayne, War vones thou, litel man, at hame? Wit of thee I wald ful faine."

"Thoth I be litel and lith,

50 Am y noth wytouten wane;

Ferli frained thou wat hi hith,

That thou salt noth wit my name; My wonige stede ful wel es dyght, Nou sone thou salt se at hame." 55 Til him I sayde, "For Godes mith, Let me forth myn erand gane."

"The thar noth of thin erand lette,

Thouth thou come ay stonde wit me,

Forther salt thou noth bi sette,

60 Bi miles twa noyther bi three."

Na linger durst I for him lette,

But forth y funded wyt that free;

Stintid vs brok no beck;

Ferlich me thouth hu so mouth bee.

65 He vent forth, als y you say,

In at ay yate, y vnderstande;

In til ay yate wvndouten nay;

It to se thouth me nouth lang. The bankers on the binkes lay, 70 And fair lordes sett y fonde; In ilka ay hirn y herd ay lay, And leuedys soth meloude sange.

[Here there seems to be a break, and a new start made, with a tale told not on a Monday, but on a Wednesday.

Lithe, bothe zonge and alde:

Of ay worde y will you saye,

Ay litel tale that me was tald

Erli on ay Wedenesdaye.

A mody barn, that was ful bald,

My friend that y frained aye,

Al my gesing he me tald,

And galid me als we went bi waye.

"Miri man, that es so wyth,

Of ay thing gif me answere:

For him that mensked man wyt mith,

Wat sal worth of this were?" &c.

Finlay, 36, crustlike.

39, Clidelik.

43, Glalli wild.

52, That, qy. Yat?; with.

53, dygh.

68, south.