THE YORKSHIRE KNIGHT; OR, THE FORTUNATE FARMER'S DAUGHTER.[189]

Part I. In famous York city a farmer did dwell, Who was belov'd by his neighbours full well; He had a good wife that was virtuous and fair, And by her he had a child every year. In seven years' time six children they had, Which made both the father and mother's heart glad. But a little time, as we do hear say, This farmer in wealth and stock did decay; Although that once he had riches great store, In little time after he quickly grew poor; He strove all he could, but alas! could not thrive, Nor hardly could keep his poor children alive. But children came faster than silver or gold, For his wife she conceived again, we are told, And when her time came, in hard travail she fell; But, if you will mind, a strange wonder I'll tell. A rich noble knight did chance to ride by, And hearing this woman to shriek and cry; He being well learned in planets and signs, Did look on a book which puzzled his mind: For the more he did look, still the more he did read, And found that the fate this young child had decreed, Who was born in that house that same hour and tide, He found it was she that must be his sweet bride. But judge how the knight was disturbed in mind, When he in that book his own fortune did find; He quickly rode home, but was sorely oppress'd; From that very moment he could have no rest; All night he did tumble and toss in his bed, And very strange projects did run in his head; Then he was resolved very quickly indeed, To alter that fortune he found was decreed. With a murdering heart next morning he rose, And to the house of the farmer he goes; Then asking the man, with a heart full of spite, If the child was alive that was born last night? "Worthy sir," says the farmer, "although I'm poor, I had one born last night, and six long before; Four sons and three daughters I now have alive, Which are all in good health and likely to thrive." The knight he reply'd, "If that seven you have, Let me have the youngest, I'll keep her most brave; For you very well with one daughter can spare, Which, if you will grant, I will make her my heir: "For I am a knight of noble degree, And if you will part with your child unto me, Full three hundred pounds unto you I will give, When I from your hands your daughter receive." The father and mother, with tears in their eyes, Did hear this fine offer, and were in surprize; And seeing the knight so gallant and gay, Presented the infant unto him that day. But they spoke to him with words most mild, "We beseech you, kind sir, to be kind to our child." "You need not fear it," the knight did say, "For I will maintain her most gallant and gay." Then with this sweet baby away he did ride, Until that he came to a broad river side; With cruelty bent he resolved, indeed, To drown the young infant that moment with speed. Says he, "If you live, you must needs be my wife; But I am resolved to bereave you of life: For 'till you are dead I no other can have, Therefore you shall lie in a watery grave." In speaking these words, that moment, they say, He flung the sweet babe in the river straightway; And being well pleased when this he had done, Did leap on his horse and quickly rode home. But mind how good fortune did for her provide, For the child was drove safe on her back by the tide. There was a man fishing as fortune would have, Who saw the child floating upon the salt wave. He soon took her up but was in amaze, He kiss'd her, and bless'd her, and on her did gaze; And seeing he had ne'er a child in his life, He presently carried her home to his wife. His wife she was pleased the child for to see, And said, "My dear husband, be ruled by me, Since we have no child, if you let me alone, We'll keep this sweet baby and call it our own." The good man consented, as I have been told, And spared for neither silver nor gold, Until she was aged eleven full years; And then her sweet beauty began to appear. Part II. The fisherman he was one time at an inn, And several gentlemen drinking with him; The wife sent this girl to call the good man home; But when she did into the drinking room come, The gentlemen all were amazed to see, The fisherman's daughter so full of beauty; They asked him, presently, if it was his own? Who told the whole story before he went home. "As I was a fishing within my own bound, One Monday morning this sweet babe I found; 'Tis eleven years past since her life I did save, Or else she had lain in a watery grave." The cruel knight was in this company; And hearing the fisherman tell the story, Was vexed at the heart for in seeing her alive; And how to destroy her again he did strive. Then spoke to the goodman, and to him said, "If that you will part with this pretty young maid, I'll give you whatever your heart can device, For she in good time to great riches will rise." The fisherman answered with modest grace, "I cannot, unless my dear wife was in place; Get first her consent, you shall have her for me, And then to go with you, good sir, she is free." He got the wife's leave, and the girl with him went; But little they thought of his cruel intent: He kept her a month very bravely they say, And then he contrived to make her away. For he had a brother in Lancashire, A noble rich man worth two thousand a year; He sent this young girl unto him with speed, In hopes he would act a most barbarous deed. He sent a man with her, likewise they say; But as they did lodge at an inn by the way, A thief in the house, with an evil intent, To rob the port-mantua immediately went: But the thief was amazed when he could not find No clothes, gold or silver, or ought to his mind: But only a letter, the which he did read, And put an end to this desperate deed. The cruel knight wrote to his brother that day, To make the young innocent damsel away With sword or with poison, that very same night, And not let her live to the next morning light. When the thief read the letter, he had so much grace, To tear it, and write in the very same place,— Dear brother, receive the young maiden from me, And bring her up well as a lady should be. Let her be esteemed, dear brother, I pray; Let servants attend her by night and by day; For she is a lady of noble great worth, A more noble lady ne'er lived in the north. Let her have good learning, dear brother, I pray, And you for the same I'll sufficiently pay; So, loving brother, my letter I end, Subscribing myself your dear brother and friend. The maid and the servant were both innocent, And onward their journey next morning they went; Before the sun set to the knight's they did come, Where the servant did leave her, and turned home. The girl was attended most bravely indeed, With men and with maidens to serve her at need: Where she did continue whole twelvemonths' space, Till this cruel knight came to the place. As he and his brother together did talk, He spy'd the fair maid in the garden to walk; She looked most beautiful, pleasant and gay, Like to fair Aurora, the goddess of May. He was in a passion, when her he did 'spy, And said, very angry, "Brother, oh! why, Pray did you not do, as in the letter I wrote?" His brother reply'd, "It is done every bit." "No, no, said the knight, it is not I see, Therefore she shall again go with me." But his brother did show him the letter that day; Then he was amazed, but nothing did say. Part III. Soon after the knight took this maiden away, And with her did ride, till they came to the sea; Then looking on her with anger and spite, He spoke to the virgin, and bid her alight. The maid from her horse immediately went, And trembled to think what it was that he meant; "Ne'er tremble," said he, "for this hour is your last, Then pull off your clothes, I command you in haste." The virgin, with tears in her eyes, did reply, "Oh! what have I done that now I must die? Oh! let me but know how I did you offend, I'll study each hour for to make you amends. "Oh! spare but my life, and I'll wander the earth, And never come near you while that I have breath." He hearing this pitiful moan she did make, Then from his own finger a ring he did take, And unto this maiden in anger did say, "This ring in the water I'll now throw away; Pray look on it well, the posey is plain, And when you see it may know it again. "I charge you for life, ne'er come more in my sight, For if you do, I shall owe you a spite; Unless that you bring the same ring unto me." With that, he let the ring drop into the sea: Which when he had done, from the maid he did go, And left her to wander in sorrow and woe. She rambled all night, and at last did espy A homely poor cottage, and to it did hie. Being hungry and cold, with a heart full of grief, She went to the cottage and asked for relief: The people reliev'd her, and the very next day, They got her a service, as I do hear say, At a nobleman's house, not far from that place, Where she behaved herself with modest grace; She was a cook maid, and forgot all things past, But here is a wonder now comes at the last. As she a fish dinner was dressing one day, And opening the head of a cod, as they say, She found a rich ring, and was struck with amaze; And then she with wonder upon it did gaze. At viewing it well, she did find it to be The very same ring the knight threw into the sea. She smil'd when she saw it, and blest the kind fate, But did to no creature the secret relate. The maid in her place did all others excel, That the lady took notice, and liked her so well; Said she was born of some noble degree And took her her own companion to be. The hard hearted knight to this place he came, A little time after, with persons of fame; But was struck to the heart when he there did behold This charming young virgin in trappings of gold. Then he asked the lady to grant him a boon, And said, 'twas to talk with that virgin alone; The lady consented, and the young maid, Who quickly agreed, but was sorely afraid. When he did meet her, "Thou strumpet," said he, "Pray did not I charge you ne'er to meet me; This hour's your last, to the world bid good night, For being so bold to appear in my sight." Said she, "In the sea, sir, you flung your own ring, And bid me not see you, unless I could bring That ring unto you, and I have it," said she, "Behold, 'tis the same that was thrown into the sea!" When the knight saw the ring, he did fly to her arms; He kissed her, and swore she had a million of charms. Said he, "Charming creature, I pray pardon me, Who has often contrived the ruin of thee. "'Tis in vain to alter what fate has decreed, For I find thou wast born my dear bride to be." Then married they were, as I do hear say, And now she's a lady both gallant and gay. Then quickly unto her parents did haste, Where the knight told the story of all that was past; But asked both their pardons upon his bare knee, Which they give, and rejoice their daughter to see. Then they for the fisherman and his wife sent, And for their past trouble did give them content; But there was great joy by all those that did see The farmer's young daughter a lady to be.