Child's, The English And Scottish Ballads

Volume 1 of 8 from 1860 edition

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Remembering the inslfructions of the Warluck Mer­lin, "Burd Ellen," said Child Rowland, "Iwill neither taste nor touch till I have set thee free!" Immedi­ately the folding-doors burst open with tremendous violence, and in came the king of Elfland,
" With lfi,fi,fo, and/um /
I smell the blood of a Christian man ! Be he dead, be he living, wi' my brand I'll clash his harns frae his ham-pan !'" *
" Strike, then, Bogle of Hell, if thou darest!" ex­claimed the undaunted Child Rowland, starting up, and drawing the good claymore, [Excalibar,] that never struck in vain.
A furious combat ensued, and the king of Elfland was felled to the ground; but Child Rowland spared him on condition that he should restore to him his two brothers, who lay in a trance in a corner of the hall, and his sister, the fair burd Ellen. The king of Elfland then produced a small crystal phial, containing a bright red liquor, with which he anointed the lips, nostrils, eye-lids, ears, and finger-ends of the two young men, who immediately awoke as from a profound sleep, during which their souls had quitted their bodies, and they had seen, &c, &c, &c. So they all four returned in triumph to [merry Carlisle.]
Such was the rude outline of the romance of Child Rowland, as it was told to me when I was about seven or eight years old, by a country tailor then at work in my father's house. He was an ignorant and dull good sort of honest man, who seemed never to have ques­tioned the truth of what he related. Where the et