SIR ALDINGAR. IN Sir Walter Scott's "Border Minstrelsy," is a ballad somewhat similar, in design, to the present, bearing the title of Sir Rodingham. Dr. Percy has given to this some conjectural emendations, and also supplemental stanzas. OUR King he kept a false steward, A falser steward than he was one, He would have lain by our comely Queen, Our queen she was a good woman, And evermore said him nay. Sir Aldingar was wroth in his mind,- There came a Lazar to the king's gate,- He took the lazar upon his back, Him on the queen's bed has lain. * Lie still, lazar, where as thou liest,— I'll make thee a whole man and a sound, Then went him forth Sir Aldingar, If I might have grace, as I have space, Say on, say on, Sir Aldingar,— Our queen hath chosen a new, new love, If she had chosen a right good knight, But she hath chose her a lazar-man,— If this be true, thou Aldingar, The tidings thou tellest to me, Then will I make thee a rich, rich knight,— But if it be false, Sir Aldingar,- He brought our king to the queen's chamber, “A lodlye + love," King Harry says, For our queen, dame Elinore. Probably alluding to the supposed virtue of the royal touch. + Loathsome. If thou wert a man, as thou art none, But a pair of new gallows shall be built, Forth then hied our king, I wis, And an angry man was he; And soon he found Queen Elinore, That bride so bright of blee. Now God you save, our queen, madam, If you had chosen a right good knight, A lazar both blind and lame. Therefore a fire there shall be built, Now out, alack! said our comely queen, I had thought swevens* had never been true;— I dreamt in my sweven, on Thursday eve, In my bed whereas I lay, I dreamt a grype † and a grimly beast Had carried my crown away. * Dreams. + Grype-griffin, a fabulous beast, with wings. My gorget, and my kirtle of gold, And all my fair head-gear; And he would worry me with his tush, And to his nest y' bear. Saving, there came a little grey hawk, A Merlin him they call,— Which unto the ground did strike the grype, That dead he down did fall. Giff I were a man, as now I am none, A battle would I prove, To fight with that traitor, Aldingar,- But seeing I'm able no battle to make, To fight with that traitor, Sir Aldingar, Now forty days I will give thee, To seek thee a knight therein; Then she sent east, and she sent west, * By north and south bedeen; Now twenty days were spent and gone, Then came one of the queen's damsels, Cheer up, cheer up, my gracious dame, * Both. And here I will make mine avow, Then forth she rode on a fair palfrey, But never a champion could she find, And now the day drew on apace, All woe-begone was that fair damsel, And the salt tears fell from her eye, A tiny Boy she met, God wot! He seemed no more in man's likeness, Why grieve you, damsel fair, he said, Yet turn again-thou fair damsel, Evil-boot, help. Both from the Saxon. Hope, like the glimmering taper's light, And still, as darker grows the night, Emits a brighter ray. GOLDSMITH. |