The Yorkshire Knight, or the Fortunate Farmer’s Daughter, in Three Parts
Part I.—Showing how a noble Knight was riding by a farmer’s house, when his wife was in travail. The Knight knowing the signs and planets, and looking on a book, read that the farmer’s daughter that was born that hour was to be his lady and bride. And how the cruel Knight got the child from her parents, and flung it into a river; but by good fortune, the child was taken up by a poor fisherman alive, and brought home till she was eleven years old.
PART II.—How the fisherman was at an inn with some gentlemen, the cruel Knight being in the same company, and seeing the young girl come in, he asked the fisherman if she was his own daughter, who told the story of his taking her up, &c. How the cruel Knight got this poor girl away, and contrived her death a second time, and how he was prevented.
PART III.—How the Knight contrived her death a third time; but her life was saved, by showing the Knight a ring that he flung in the sea; when the Knight saw it, found it in vain to strive against his fortune, so he married her, and made her his lady; with other things worthy of note.
Part I
In York fair city a farmer did dwell,
Who was belov’d by his neighbours full well;
He had a good wife who 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 after as we do hear say,
This farmer in money and stock did decay,
Although at one time he had riches in store,
But a 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 as I’m 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 to cry,
He being well learned in planets and signs,
Did look on a book which much puzzled his mind.
For the more he did look, still the more he did read,
And found that fate this young child had decreed,
Who was born in that house that same hour and tide
Had 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 oppressed,
From that very moment he could not have 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 murdering heart the next morning he rose,
And to the house of the farmer he goes:
Then asked the man with a heart full of spite,
If the child was alive that was born last night.
Worthy sir, said the farmer, although I am 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 then replied 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 hand your daughter receive.
The father and mother with tears in their eyes,
Did hear this fine proffer, and were in surprise,
And seeing the Knight was 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, be good to our child;
You need not fear it, the Knight he 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 live:
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 ride 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 he was in amaze,
He kissed her, and blessed her, and on her did gaze,
And seeing he ne’er had 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 nothing—neither silver nor gold;
Until she was aged eleven full years,
And then her sweet beauty began to appear.
Part II
The fisherman was one time at an inn,
And several gentlemen drinking with him,
The wife sent this girl to call her man home.
But when she did into the drinking room come,
The gentlemen all were amazed to see
The fisherman’s daugter so full of beauty,
They presently ask’d him if she was his own,
So he told the whole story before he went home:
As I was a fishing within my own bound,
One Monday morn this sweet baby I found;
’Tis a eleven years past since her life I did save,
Or she would have found then a watery grave.
The cruel Knight was in this company,
And hearing the fisherman telling his story,
Was vexed at his heart for to see her alive,
And how to destroy her again did contrive;
Then spoke to the good man, and to him he said,
If that you will part with this pretty young maid,
I’ll give you whatever your heart can devise,
For she, in good time, to great riches will rise.
The fisherman answered with modest grace,
I cannot unless my dear wife is in place;
Get first her consent—you shall have her for me,
And then to go with you, dear sir, she is free.
He got his 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 fair 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 did say,
But as they did lodge at an inn by the way,
A thief in the house with an evil intent,
To rob the portmanteau immediately went.
But the thief was amazed, when he could not find,
Clothes, gold or silver, or ought to his mind;
But only a letter, the which he did read,
And then put an end to this desperate deed.
The cruel Knight wrote to his brother that day,
To take this young innocent girl’s life away
With sword or with poison, that very same night,
And not let her live till the next morning light.
When the thief read the letter, he had the grace,
As to tear it, and write in the very same place:—
Dear brother, receive this 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 next morning their journey they went,
Before the sun set, to the Knight they did come,
When 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 a whole twelve-month’s space,
Till this cruel Knight came to the place.
As he and his brother together did talk,
He spied 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 angrily, Brother, O why,
Pray did you not do as in the letter I wrote?
His brother replied, It is done every whit.
No, no, said the Knight, it is not I see,
Therefore she shall back 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 upon her with anger and spite,
He spoke to the virgin and made her alight.
The maid from the 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,
O! what have I done that now I must die?
O! 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 I have breath.
He hearing the 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 to the water I’ll now throw away;
Pray look on it well, the poesy is plain,
And when you see it you 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 relieved her, and the very next day,
They got her a service, as I hear people 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.
When 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 in amaze,
And then she with wonder upon it did gaze.
At viewing it well she found it to be
The very same ring the Knight threw in the sea,
She smiled when she saw it, and blest her kind fate,
But she 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 a noble degree,
And took her, her own fair companion to be.
The hard-hearted Knight unto 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, you strumpet, said he,
Pray did not I charge you to never meet me;
This hour is your last, to the world bid good night,
For being so bold as 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 in the sea.
When the Knight saw the ring he did fly to her arms
He kissed her and swore she’d a million of charms,
Said he, charming creature, I pray pardon me,
Who so often contrived the ruin of thee.
’Tis in vain for to alter what fate does decree,
For I find thou wast born my dear bride to be;
Then married they were, as I hear people say,
And now she’s a lady both gallant and gay.
Then quickly he to 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 gave, and rejoiced their daughter to see.
Then he 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.
W. & T. FORDYCE, PRINTERS, 48, DEAN STREET, NEWCASTLE.