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She turned hersel' right round about,

And her heart burst into three :
“My ae best son is deid an gane, a
And my tother ane I'll ne'er see.'

OLD BALLAD.

THE CHILD OF ELLE.

On yonder hill a castle stands,

With walles and towres bedight; And yonder lives the Child of Elle,

A young and comely knighte.

The child of Elle to his garden went,

And stood at his garden pale,
When, lo! he beheld fair Emmeline's page

Come trippinge downe the dale.

The Child of Elle he hyed him thence,

Y-wisb he stoode not stille ;
And soon he mette faire Emmeline's page

Come climbing up the hille.

“Nowe sain thee and save thee, thou little foot-page,

Nowe welcome art thou to me;
Oh, tell me how does thy ladye gaye,

And what may thy tydinges be ?”

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“My lady she is all woe-begone,

And the teares they falle from her eyne; And aye she laments the deadlye feude

Between her house and thine.
« And here shee sends thee a silken scarfe,

Bedewde with many a teare,
And biddes thee sometimes thinke on her,

Who loved thee so deare.
“And here she sends thee a ring of golde,

The last boone thou mayst have, And biddes thee weare it for her sake,

When she is layd in grave. “For, ah! her gentle heart is broke,

And in grave soone must shee be, Sith her father hath chose her a new new love,

And forbidde her to think of thee. “Her father hath brought her a carlish a knighte,

Sir John, of the north countraye ;
And within three dayes shee must him wedde,

Or he vowes he will her slaye.
“Nowe hye thee backe, thou little foot-page,

And greet thy ladye from mee;
And telĩ her that I, her owne true love,

Will dye, or sette her free.
“Now hye thee backe, thou little foot-page,

And let thy fair ladye know,
This night will I bee at her bowreb windowe,

Betide me weale or woe.'
The boye he tripped, the boye he ranne,

He neither stint ne stayd,

* Churlish.

Chamber.

Until he came to fair Emmeline's bowre,

When kneeling down he sayd,
“O ladye, I've been with thy own true love,

And he greets thee well by mee;
This night will he be at thy bowre-windowe,

And dye or sette thee free."
Nowe day was gone, and night was come,

And all were fast asleep;
All save the ladye Emmeline,

Who sate in her bowre to weepe:
And soon she heard her true love's voice

Lowe whispering at the walle;
KNIGHT.—“Awake, awake, my deare ladye,

'Tis I, thy true love call.
Awake, awake, my ladye deare,

Come mount this faire palfraye;
This ladder of ropes will lette thee downe,

Ile carrye thee hence awaye.”
EMMELINE.-"Nowe nay, nowe nay, thou gentle knighte,

Nowe nay, this may not bee;
For aye should I tint* my maiden fame,

If alone I should wend with thee.”
KNIGHT.—“O ladye, thou with a knighte so true

Mayst safelye wend alone;
To my ladye mother I will thee bringe,

Where marriage shall make us one."
EMMELINE.—“My father he is a baron bolde,

Of lyneage proude and hye;
And what would he saye if his daughter

Awaye with a knighte should flye?

Lose.

“Ah! well I wot, he never would rest,

Nor his meate should do him no goode, Until he had slain thee, Child of Elle,

And seen thy deare heart's bloode."
KNIGHT.—“O ladye, wert thou in thy saddle sette,

And a little space him fro,
I would not care for thy cruel father,

Nor the worst that he could doe.
“O ladye, wert thou in thy saddle sette,

And once without this walle,
I would not care for thy cruel father,

Nor the worst that might befalle.”
Fair Emmeline sighed, fair Emmeline wept,

And aye her heart was woe:
At length he seized her lily-white hand,

And downe the ladder he drewe :
And thrice he clasped her to his breaste,

And kist her tenderlie :
The tears that fell from her fair eyes

Ranne like the fountayne free.
He mounted himself, on his stedė so talle,

And her on her fair palfraye,
And slung his bugle about his necke,

And roundlye they rode awaye.
All this beheard her owne damselle,

In her bed whereas shee ley;
Quoth shee, "My Lord shall knowe of this,

So I shall have golde and fee.
Awake, awake, thou baron bold !

Awake, my noble dame! Your daughter is fledde with the Child of Elle,

To do the deed of shame."

The baron he woke, the baron he rose,

And called his merrye men all : “And come thou forth, Sir John, the knighte,

Thy ladye is carried to thrall.”
Fair Emmeline scant had ridden a mile,

A mile forth of the towne,
When she was aware of her father's men

Come galloping over the downe:
And foremost came the carlish knighte,

Sir John of the north countraye: “Nowe stop, nowe stop, thou false traitoure,

Nor carry that ladye awaye. “For she is come of hye lineage,

And was of a ladye borne; And it ill beseems thee—a false churl's sonne, To carry

her hence to scorne.” “Nowe loud thou lyest, Sir John the knighte,

Nowe thou dost lye of me;
A knighte me bred, and a ladye me bore,

Soe never did none by thee.
“But light nowe downe, my ladye faire,

Light downe, and hold my steed; While I and this discourteous knighte

Do try this arduous deede. “But light nowe downe, my deare ladye,

Light downe, and hold my horse; While I and this discourteous knighte

Do try our valour's force." Fair Emmeline sighed, fair Emmeline wept,

And aye her heart was woe, While 'twixt her love and the carlish knighte

baneful blowe.

Past many

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