William Stanley Braithwaite, ed. The Book of Restoration Verse. 1910.
Child WatersAnonymous
C
And stroaket his milke-white steede;
To him came a faire young ladye
As ere did weare womans weede.
Sayes, ‘Christ you save and see!
My girdle of gold which was too longe
Is now too short for mee.
I feele sturre att my side:
My gowne of greene, it is to strayght;
Before it was to wide.’
‘Be mine, as you tell mee,
Take you Cheshire and Lancashire both,
Take them your owne to bee.
‘Be mine, as you doe sweare,
Take you Cheshire and Lancashire both,
And make that child your heyre.’
Child Waters, of thy mouth,
Then I would have Cheshire and Lancashire both,
That lyes by north and south.
Child Waters, of your eye,
Then I would have Cheshire and Lancashire both,
To take them mine oune to bee!’
Soe ffar into the north countrye;
The fairest lady that I can ffind,
Ellen, must goe with mee.’
‘And ever I pray you, Child Watters,
Your ffootpage let me bee!’
As you doe tell itt mee,
Then you must cut your gownne of greene
An inch above your knee.
Another inch above your eye;
You must tell no man what is my name;
My ffootpage then you shall bee.’
Shee ran bare ffoote by his side;
Yett was he never soe curteous a knight,
To say, ‘Ellen, will you ryde?’
She ran barffoote thorow the broome;
Yett he was never soe curteous a knight
As to say, ‘Put on your shoone.’
Why do you ryde soe ffast?
The child, which is no mans but yours,
My bodye itt will burst.’
That fflowes from banke to brim?’
‘I trust to God, Child Waters,’ shee sayd,
‘You will never see mee swime.’
Shee sayled to the chinne:
‘Except the lord of heaven be my speed,
Now must I learne to swime.’
Oure Ladye bare upp her chinne,
And Child Waters was a woe man, good Lord,
To see faire Ellen swime.
Shee then came to his knee:
He said, ‘Come hither, ffaire Ellen,
Loe yonder what I see!
Of redd gold shine the yates;
There’s four and twenty ffayre ladyes,
The ffairest is my wordlye make.
Of redd gold shineth the tower;
There is four and twenty ffaire ladyes,
The fairest is my paramoure.’
That of redd gold shineth the yates;
God give good then of your selfe,
And of your wordlye make!
That of redd gold shineth the tower;
God give good then of your selfe,
And of youre paramoure!’
Were playing att the ball;
And Ellen, was the ffairest ladye,
Must bring his steed to the stall.
Was playing att the chesse;
And Ellen, shee was ffairest ladye,
Must bring his horsse to grasse.
And these were the words said shee:
‘You have the prettyest ffootpage, brother,
That ever I saw with mine eye;
His girdle goes wondrous hye;
And ever I pray you, Child Waters,
Let him go into the chamber with me.’
That has run through mosse and mire,
To take his supper upon his knee
And sitt downe by the kitchin fyer,
Then to go into the chamber with any ladye
That weares so rich attyre.’
That I may creepe in att your bedds feete,
For there is noe place about this house
Where I may say a sleepe.’
Till itt was neere the day:
He sayd, ‘Rise up, my little ffoote page,
And give my steed corne and hay;
And soe doe thou the good blacke oates,
That he may carry me the better away.’
And gave his steed corne and hay,
And soe shee did the good blacke oates,
That he might carry him the better away.
And greivouslye did groane;
And that beheard his mother deere,
And heard her make her moane.
I thinke thou art a cursed man;
For yonder is a ghost in thy stable,
That greivously doth groane,
Or else some woman laboures of child,
Shee is soe woe begone!’
And did put on his shirt of silke;
Then he put on his other clothes
On his body as white as milke.
Full still that hee did stand,
That hee might heare now faire Ellen,
How shee made her monand.
Lullabye, deere child, deere!
I wold thy father were a king,
Thy mother layd on a beere!’
And be of good cheere, I thee pray,
And the bridall and the churching both,
They shall bee upon one day.’