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There came a lazar to the kings gate,
A lazar both blinde and lame :
He tooke the lazar upon his backe,
Him on the queenes bed has layne.
"Lye still, lazàr wheras thou lyest,

Looke thou goe not hence away;
Ile make thee a whole man and a sound
In two howers of the day."

Then went him forth sir Aldingar,

And hyed him to our king:

"If I might have grace, as I have space,
Sad tydings I could bring."

Say on, say on, sir Aldingar,
Saye on the soothe to mee.
"Our queene hath chosen a new new love,
And shee will have none of thee.

"If shee had chosen a right good knight,
The lesse had beene her shame;

But she hath chose her a lazar man,
A lazar both blinde and lame."

If this be true, thou Aldingar,

The tyding thou tellest to me,
Then will I make thee a rich rich knight,

Rich both of golde and fee.

But if it be false, sir Aldingar,

As God nowe grant it bee!

Thy body, I sweare by the holye rood,
Shall hang on the gallows tree.

He brought our king to the queenes
chamber,

And opend to him the dore. A lodlye love, king Harry says,

For our queene dame Elinore!

If thou were a man, as thou art none,
Here on my sword thoust dye;

Forth then hyed our king, I wysse,

And an angry man was hee;
And soone he found queene Elinore,
That bride so bright of blee.

173

Now God you save, our queene, madame,
And Christ you save and see;
Heere you have chosen a newe newe love,
And you will have none of mee.

If you had chosen a right good knight,
The lesse had been your shame :
But you have chose you a lazar man,
A lazar both blinde and lame.

Therfore a fyer there shall be built,

And brent all shalt thou bee,-
"Now out alacke ! said our comly queene,
Sir Aldingar's false to mee.

Now out alacke! sayd our comlye queene,
My heart with griefe will brast.

I had thought swevens had never been
true;

I had proved them true at last.

I dreamt in my sweven on thursday eve,
In my bed whereas I laye,

I dreamt a grype and a grimlic beast
Had carryed my crowne awaye;
My gorgett and my kirtle of golde,
And all my faire head-geere :
And he wold worrye me with his tush
And to his nest y-beare:

Saving there came a little 'gray' hawke,
A merlin him they call,

Which untill the grounde did strike the
grype,

That dead he downe did fall.

But a payre of new gallowes shall be Giffe I were a man, as now I am none,

buil',

And there shalt thou hang on hye.

* He probably insinuates that the king should heal him by his power of touching for the king's evil.

A battell wold I prove,

To fight with that traitor Aldingar;
Att him I cast my glove.

But seeing Ime able noe battell to make,
My liege, grant me a knight

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X. THE GABERLUNZIE MAN.

A SCOTTISH SONG.

TRADITION informs us that the author of this song was King James V. of Scotland. This prince (whose character for wit and libertinism bears a great resemblance to that of his gay successor Charles II.) was noted for strolling about his dominions in disguise, and for his frequent gallantries with country girls. Two adventures of this kind he hath celebrated with his own pen, viz. in the ballad of The Gaberlunzie Man; and in another, entitled The Jolly Beggar.

Sir Walter Scott says of James V. that "he was a monarch whose good and benevolent intentions often rendered his romantic freaks venial if not respectable, since from his anxious attention to the interests of the lower and most oppressed class of his subjects, he was popularly termed the King of the Commons. For the purpose of seeing that justice was regularly administered, and frequently from the less justifiable motive of gallantry, he used to traverse the vicinage of his several palaces in various disguises. The two excellent comic songs, entitled The Gaberlunzie Man, and We'll gae nae mair a-roving, are said to have been founded upon the success of his amorous adventures when travelling in the disguise of a beggar. The latter is perhaps the best comic ballad in any language."

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Some ran to coffer, and some to kist,
But nought was stown that could be mist.
She dancid her lune, cryd, Praise be blest,
I have lodgd a leal poor man.

Since naithings awa, as we can learn,
The kirns to kirn, and milk to earn,
Gae butt the house, lass, and waken my
bairn,

And bid her come quickly ben.

The servant gaed where the dochter lay,
The sheets was cauld, she was away,
And fast to her goodwife can say,
Shes aff with the gaberlunzie-man.

O fy gar ride, and fy gar rin,

And hast ze, find these traitors agen;
For shees be burnt, and hees be slein,

The wearyfou gaberlunzie-man.
Some rade upo horse, some ran a fit,
The wife was wood, and out o' her wit;
She could na gang, nor yet could she sit,
But ay did curse and did ban.

Mean time far hind out owre the lee,
For snug in a glen, where nane could see,

The twa, with kindlie sport and glee,
Cut frae a new cheese a whang.
The priving was gude, it pleas'd them
baith,

To lo'e her for ay, he gae her his aith.
Quo she, to leave thee, I will be laith,
My winsɔme gaberlunzie-man.

O kend my minny I were wi' zou,
Illfardly wad she crook her mou,
Sic a poor man sheld nevir trow,
Aftir the gaberlunzie-mon.
My dear, quo he, zee're zet owre zonge;
And hae na learnt the beggars tonge,
To follow me frae toun to toun,

And carrie the gaberlunzie on.

Wi' kauk and keel, I'll win zour bread, And spindles and whorles for them wha need,

Whilk is a gentil trade indeed

The gaberlunzie to carrie—o.
Ill bow my leg and crook my knee,
And draw a black clout owre my ee,
A criple or blind they will cau me:
While we sall sing and be merrie-o.

XI.-ON THOMAS, LORD CROMWELL.

THE ballad seems to have been composed between the time of Cromwell's commitment to the Tower, June 11, 1540, and that of his being beheaded July 28 following. Notwithstanding our libeller, Cromwell had many excellent qualities: his great fault was too much obsequiousness to the arbitrary will of his master. The original copy, printed at London in 1540, is entitled, "A newe ballade made of Thomas Crumwel, called Trolle on away." To it is prefixed this distich by way of burthen:

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