English and Scottish Ballads Volume I Part 14

And when she was attired so, According to her mother's mind, Unto the stake then did she go, 105 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, "And my sweet mother, meek and mild; 110 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."

The king and queen and all their train 115 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, Behold St. George came riding by. 120

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: "Tell me, sweet maiden," then quoth he, 125 "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, And break my lance upon his chest:" 130 And speaking thus whereas he stood, The dragon issued from the wood.

The lady, that did first espy The dreadful dragon coming so, Unto St. George aloud did cry, 135 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, The fiery dragon soon espy'd, 140 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.

For with his launce, that was so strong, 145 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 This mighty dragon straight he slew. 150

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; Which when King Ptolemy did see, 155 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, Which to their hearts much joy did yield, 160 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; But when their love was brought to light, 165 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; For pleasure sake he us'd to walk; 170 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.

Those kings together did devise 175 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, And treacherously his blood to spill. 180

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; Who, as through Persia land he rode, 185 With zeal destroy'd each idol G.o.d.

For which offence he straight was thrown Into a dungeon dark and deep; Where, when he thought his wrongs upon, He bitterly did wail and weep: 190 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, Though he had fasted many a day, 195 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, But met a gyant by the way, 200 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.

Back o'er the seas, with many bands 205 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, He wrought unto his heart's content. 210

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: Meanwhile the king, o'ercome in field, 215 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, Ere with her he would lead his life; 220 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, An eunuch also with them came, 225 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, The lady did desire to rest: 230 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.

But lo! all in his absence came 235 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, Whereby they shew'd she was a maid. 240

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, And came into the lions sight, 245 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 Within the Lady Sabra's sight: 250 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, His heart was glad, that erst was woe, 255 And all his love did soon renew: He set her on a palfrey steed, And towards England came with speed.

Where being in short s.p.a.ce arriv'd Unto his native dwelling place, 260 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.

THE SEVEN CHAMPIONS OF CHRISTENDOM.

_The Famous Historie of the Seven Champions of Christendom_, is the work of Richard Johnson, a ballad maker of some note at the end of the 16th and beginning of the 17th century. All that is known of him may be seen in Chappel's Introduction to the _Crown Garland of Golden Roses_, of which Johnson was the compiler or the author. (Percy Society, vol. vi.) "The Story of St. George and the Fair Sabra," says Percy, "is taken almost verbatim from the old poetical legend of Sir Bevis of Hampton."

The _Seven Champions_ is twice entered on the Stationers' Registers in the year 1596. It is here reprinted from _A Collection of Old Ballads_, 1723, vol. i. 28. The same copy is in Evans's collection, i. 372.

Now of the Seven Champions here My purpose is to write, To show how they with sword and spear Put many foes to flight; Distressed ladies to release, 5 And captives bound in chains, That Christian glory to increase Which evermore remains.

First, I give you to understand That great Saint George by name, 10 Was the true champion of our land; And of his birth and fame, And of his n.o.ble mother's dream, Before that he was born, The which to her did clearly seem 15 Her days would be forlorn.

This was her dream; that she did bear A dragon in her womb; Which griev'd this n.o.ble lady fair, 'Cause death must be her doom. 20 This sorrow she could not conceal, So dismal was her fear, So that she did the same reveal Unto her husband dear;

Who went for to inquire straight 25 Of an enchanteress; When, knocking at her iron gate, Her answer it was this: "The lady shall bring forth a son, By whom, in tract of time, 30 Great n.o.ble actions shall be done; He will to honour climb.

"For he shall be in banners wore; This truth I will maintain; Your lady, she shall die before 35 You see her face again."

His leave he took, and home he went; His wife departed lay; But that which did his grief augment, The child was stole away. 40

Then did he travel in despair, Where soon with grief he died; While the young child, his son and heir, Did constantly abide With the wise lady of the grove, 45 In her enchanted cell; Amongst the woods he oft did rove, His beauty pleased her well.

Blinded with love, she did impart, Upon a certain day, 50 To him her cunning magic art, And where six Champions lay Within a brazen castle strong, By an enchanted sleep, And where they had continued long; 55 She did the castle keep.

She taught and show'd him every thing Through being free and fond; Which did her fatal ruin bring; For with a silver wand 60 He clos'd her up into a rock, By giving one small stroke; So took possession of her stock, And the enchantment broke.

Those Christian Champions being freed 65 From their enchanted state, Each mounted on his prancing steed, And took to travel straight; Where we will leave them to pursue Kind fortune's favours still, 70 To treat of our own champion, who Did courts with wonders fill.

For as he came to understand, At an old hermit's cell, How, in the vast Egyptian land, 75 A dragon fierce and fell Threatened the ruin of them all, By his devouring jaws, His sword releas'd them from that thrall, And soon remov'd the cause. 80

This dreadful dragon must destroy A virgin every day, Or else with stinks he'll them annoy, And many thousands slay.

At length the king's own daughter dear, 85 For whom the court did mourn, Was brought to be devoured here, For she must take her turn.

The king by proclamation said, If any hardy knight 90 Could free this fair young royal maid, And slay the dragon quite, Then should he have her for his bride, And, after death, likewise His crown and kingdom too beside: 95 Saint George he won the prize.

When many hardy strokes he'd dealt, And could not pierce his hide, He run his sword up to the hilt In at the dragon's side; 100 By which he did his life destroy, Which cheer'd the drooping king; This caused an universal joy, Sweet peals of bells did ring.

The daughter of a king, for pride 105 Transformed into a tree Of mulberries, Saint Denis[L107] spied, And being hungery, Of that fair fruit he ate a part, And was transformed likewise 110 Into the fashion of a hart, For seven years precise.

At which he long bewail'd the loss Of manly shape: then goes To him his true and trusty horse, 115 And brings a blushing rose, By which the magic spell was broke, And both were fairly freed From the enchanted heavy yoke: They then in love agreed. 120

Now we come to Saint James of Spain, Who slew a mighty boar, In hopes that he might honour gain, But he must die therefore: Who was allow'd his death to choose, 125 Which was by virgins' darts, But they the same did all refuse, So tender were their hearts.