The Factor's Garland (Edinburgh, pr. Morren, 1800a)

by Anonymous

For other versions of this work, see The Factor's Garland.

THE

Factor's Garland.

IN FOUR PARTS.

PART I. Being a true Account how a young Man (after having rioted away part of his estate) became Factor to several merchants in London. How he found the Corpse of a dead Christian lying on the ground in Turkey, and gave fifty pounds for its burial.

PART II. How he freed a young Woman from being strangled, and brought her to London.

PART III. And how by a vest of her flowering, the Prince came to hear of his Daughter.

PART IV. How he was betrayed and cast over board, and what way and manner he was preserved, and and brought to the Prince's Palace, and married to the damsel, &c,

Edinburgh: Printed by J. Morren.

THE FACTOR'S GARLAND.
PART I.

BEHOLD here's a ditty, the truth and no jest,
concerning a young gentleman liv'd in the east,
Who by his great gaming came to poverty,
And afterwards went many a voyages to sea
Being well educate, and one of great wit
Three merchants in London they all thought it ⟨fit⟩
To make him their Captain and Factor also,
And for them to Turkey a voyage he did go
And walking along the streets there he found,
A poor dead man's carcase lying on the ground,
He asked the reason why he there did ly?
Then one of the natives did make this reply
That man was a Christian, sir, while he drew ⟨breath⟩,
The duty's unpaid, he lies above the earth
Why, what is the duty? the Factor he cry'd?
It is fifty pounds, sir, the Turk he reply'd
That is a great sum, quoth the Factor, indeed
To see him lie there makes my heart for to ⟨bleed⟩;
So then by the Factor the money was paid,
And under the earth the dead carcase was laid.
When having gone further, by chance he did ⟨spy⟩,
A beautiful creature just going to die,
A young waiting maid, who strangled must be,
For nothing but striking a Turkish lady.
To think of her dying with grief he was fill'd,
Then rivers of tears, like waters distil'd,
Like streams of a fountain, from her eyes ran ⟨down⟩
Her red rosy cheeks, and from thence to the ⟨ground⟩
Hearing what her crime was he to end the ⟨strife⟩
Said, What must I give for this poor creature's ⟨life?⟩
The answer was turned, an hundred pound,
The which for her pardon he freely paid down.
He said, fairest creature, thy weeping refrain,
⟨And⟩ be of good comfort, thou shalt not be slain;
⟨Behold⟩, I have purchas'd thy pardon, will ye
⟨Be⟩ willing to go to fair England with me.
She said, Sir, I think you, who freed me from death,
⟨I'm⟩bound to obey you so long's I have breath;
⟨And⟩ if you are willing, to fair England I'll go,
⟨And⟩ due respect to you till death I will shew.

PART II.

HE brought her to London where as it is said,
He set up housekeeping, and made her his maid
⟨For⟩ to wait upon him, and finding her just,
With the keys of his riches he did her intrust.
At last this young Factor was hired once more,
⟨To⟩ cross the proud waves and billows that roar
⟨And⟩ into that country his course was to steer,
⟨Which⟩ by this maids father was govern'd we hear.
Being a ⟨hot⟩ country, this maid did prepare,
⟨To⟩ get light robes in that country to wear,
⟨He⟩ bought a silk waist-coat, the which it is told,
⟨His⟩ servant maid flowered with silver and gold
She said to him, Master, I do understand,
⟨You⟩ are going Factor unto such a land,
⟨And⟩ if you that Prince's court enter in,
⟨Be⟩ sure let this fine flowered garment be seen.
He said, to that Prince's court I must go,
⟨The⟩ meaning of your words I long for to know.
⟨Sir⟩ I will not tell you, some reason you'll find,
With that he replied, I'll fulfill thy mind.
Then away he sailed, and came to the shore,
⟨This Factor⟩ he came to the Emperor's door,
⟨For⟩ it was the usual custom of that place.
⟨To⟩ present some noble gifts unto his Grace
His gift was accepted of and as he stood by,
On this flowered garment the Prince cast an eye.
Which made him colour, and thus he did say,
Who flowered that garment now tell me I pray?
If it please your Grace my last voyage to Turkey,
Where I saw a lady that strangled must be.
And to save her life, gave an hundred pound,
And carried her with me to fair London town.
There she's my house-keeper while I'm in this land
And when of my coming she did understand,
She flowered this robe and gave strict charge to me
To let it be seen by your great Majesty.
The prince cry'd, behold friend, this robe which I ⟨wear⟩
⟨Is of the same flower and spot I do swear,⟩
Thy maid wrought them both, she's my daughter dear
I have not heard from her till now these three year.
To pay a visit to some neighbouring prince
I sent her in a ship, and have ne'er seen her since,
And I was afraid the sea had proved her grave,
But I heard to Turkey she was taken a slave.
For the loss of my child, who I thought had been kill'd
A well full of tears in my court has been spill'd,
My princess, her mother, could for her not rest,
Her loss drew millions of sighs from her breast.
The ship shall be richly loaded with speed,
And I'll send a ship for her convoy indeed:
Because of thy love, thou sav'd my child's life,
Bring her alive to me, I'll make her thy wife.
And if thou should st not live to bring her to me,
Whoe'er brings her home his bride she shall be,
And twenty thousand a year ye shall have,
That ventur'd my dear child's life for to save
The ship being loaded, their anchor was weighing,
And he with his convoy came over the main,
To fair London city, and home he did go,

And gave the young Princess these tidings to know.

PART III.

HE said, Noble lady, I have good news to tell,
The noble prince, your father, and mother's both well,
And your royal parents this thing have design'd,
In the bond of wedlock we both should be join'd;
Perhaps, noble lady you would not agree,
To marry a poor man, especially me;
Sir, were you a beggar, I would be your wife,
Because, when just dying, you saved my life
I ne'er shall forget that token of love,
Of all men now breathing I prize thee above,
Since it is so ordered, I'm well pleas'd I vow,
And glad my dear father these things doth allow,
Pray sell off your goods that you have in store,
And give all your money to those that are poor;
And let us be jogging with ⟨glee⟩ o'er the main,
For I long to see my dear parents again.
This thing was soon done, and they sailed away
In the ship that her father sent for her convoy,
But mark what was acted on the ocan wide,
To deprive the Factor of his royal bride.
The Captain who convey d them over the deep.
One night as the Factor was laid in his sleep,
Being under sail, over board did him throw,
Saying, now I shall have this young creature I know.
There happ'ned to be a small island at hand,
To which the Factor swam as I understand,
And there I shall leave him a while for to mourn,
And unto the ship again will return.
Next morning, as soon as day-light did peep,
He wak'd the young princess out of her sleep,
And said, noble lady, the Factor's not here,
He's fall'n overboard and drowned I fear.
To hear the sad news, then her eyes they did flow,
He said, Noble lady, since now it is so,
There's none here can help it, do not troubled be,
For thou in ⟨short⟩ space your dear parents shall see
And when that they came to the desired port,
This Princess came weeping to her father's court,
Who gladly received her with joy and great mirth,
Saying Where is the man that freed you from death.
The captain reply'd, as he lay asleep,
He fell overboard and was drowned in the deep:
Your Grace said the man your child home did bring,
Would have her, I hope you'll perform this thing
Yes, that was my promise, the Monarch replied;
What say'st thou, daughter, wilt thou be his bride,
She said, Yes dear father but first if you please
For him that sav'd my life I'll mourn forty days.
Then into close mourning this Lady she went,
For the loss of her good friend in tears to lament,
And there I will leave her in tears for a while,
And turn to the Factor who was left on the isle.

PART IV

IN this desert island the Factor he lay,
In floods of tears weeping two nights and a day
At length on the ocean appear'd in his view,
A little old man paddling in a canoe.
The Factor call'd to him, which caus'd him to stay,
And drawing near to him, the old man he did say,
Friend, how cam'st thou hither? with eyes that did flow
He told him the secret and where he would go.
That old man said to him, if here thou dost lie,
With grief and hunger in short thou wilt die:
What wilt thou give me, if so that court I'll thee guide?
I have nothing to give you, the Factor reply'd.
If thou wilt promise, and be true to me.
To give the first babe that is born unto thee,
When thirty months old, to that court I'll thee bring,
I will not relcase you without that very thing.
The Factor consider'd that thing would cause grief,
And without it for him there was no relief,
He cry'd, life is sweet, and my life for to save
Carry me to that place and your will you shall have,
So soon he was carried to the court, and when,
He came to the gates, he saw his lady then
Looking out of her window who seeing him there.
From sorrow to joy transported they were.
He unto the court then with joy was receiv'd,
Where his lady met him, who for him had griev'd,
And said, My dear jewel, my joy, and my dear,
O! where have you tarry'd? I pray let me hear.
Where so long he tarry'd he then did relate,
And by what means he came to her father s gate,
He said, I was thrown overboard in my sleep,
I think 'twas the captain threw me into the ⟨deep⟩
With that the captain was sent for with speed,
And hearing the Factor was come there indeed,
To show himself guilty like a cruel knave,
Leapt into the ocean which proved his grave.
Next day with great triumph and joy we find,
This Factor and lady in marriage were join'd;
And within the compass and space of three year,
They had a fine son and daughter we hear.
The son was the first born, a perfect beauty,
And was well belov'd of the whole family,
When thirty months old came the man for his child,
Who released the Factor from the desert isle.
When the Factor saw him his eyes they did flow,
Then gave his lady and parents to know,
He was forced to make that promise only,
In the desert isle, lest he with hunger I should die.
With a grim look the old man did appear,
Which made the court tremble and fill'd them with fear,
Crying, What shall we do? sure he's not a man,
He will have our darling, do all that we can.
he said, it was promised, and I'll have my due,
There's one babe for me and another for you;
I will have your first born, come give him to me,
At which all the ⟨family⟩ wept bitterly.
The babe's mother cry'd, I’m griev'd to the heart,
To think that I with such a dear infant must part,
To one that should carry him, Lord know's where,
And perhaps in pieces my darling will tear.
With that she embrac'd him, and down the tears fell,
And then, having kiss'd him she bade him farewell,
Saying, it is for the sake of my husband that I
Do part with my first born, though for him I die
So then this grim ghost to her husband did say,
Sir, do you remember in Turky one day?
You saw a dead man's corpse lying on the ground,
And to have it buried you gave fifty pound.
Sir I am the spirit of that dead body,
I saved your life for that great love to me
You may keep your babe, and God bless you all;
Then away it vanished out of the ⟨ball⟩.
Being gone the old Prince and the Princess likewise
The ⟨babe's⟩ tender parents with tearas in their eyes,
With joy they embraced their darling young son,
Saying, Child hadst thou left us, we had been undone.
Now I ⟨leave⟩ the court full of joy and great mirth,
To love one another while God gives them breath
And now by this Factor, we may see, indeed,
No mortal can prevent what fate has decreed.

FINIS.