Hughie Grame
Anonymous
| Original | HUGHIE GRAEME Child #191 B (June Tabor) |
| HUGHIE GRAME As it befell upon one time, About mid-summer of the year, Every man was taxt of his crime, For stealing the good Lord Bishop's mare. The good Lord Screw he sadled a horse, And rid after this same scrime; Before he did get over the moss, There was he aware of Sir Hugh of the Grime. 'Turn, O turn, thou false traytor, Turn, and yield thyself unto me; Thou hast stolen the Lord Bishops mare, And now thou thinkest away to flee.' 'No, soft, Lord Screw, that may not be! Here is a broad sword by my side, And if that thou canst conquer me, The victory will soon be try'd.' 'I ner was afraid of a traytor bold, Although thy name be Hugh in the Grime; I'le make thee repent thy speeches foul, If day and life but give me time.' 'Then do thy worst, good Lord Screw, And deal your blows as fast as you can; It will be try'd between me and you Which of us two shall be the best man.' Thus as they dealt their blows so free, And both so bloody at that time, Over the moss ten yeomen they see, Come for to take Sir Hugh in the Grime. Sir Hugh set his back against a tree, And then the men encompast him round; His mickle sword from his hand did flee, And then they brought Sir Hugh to the ground. Sir Hugh of the Grime now taken is And brought back to Garlard town; [Then cry'd] the good wives all in Garlard town, 'Sir Hugh in the Grime, thou 'st ner gang down. ' The good Lord Bishop is come to the town, And on the bench is set so high; And every man was taxt to his crime, At length he called Sir Hugh in the Grime. 'Here am I, thou false bishop, Thy humours all to fulfill; I do not think my fact so great But thou mayst put it into thy own will.' The quest of jury-men was calld, The best that was in Garlard town; Eleven of them spoke all in a breast, 'Sir Hugh in the Grime, thou 'st ner gang down. ' Then another questry-men was calld, The best that was in Rumary; Twelve of them spoke all in a breast, 'Sir Hugh in the Grime, thou'st now guilty.' Then came down my good Lord Boles, Falling down upon his knee: 'Five hundred peices of gold would I give, To grant Sir Hugh in the Grime to me.' 'Peace, peace, my good Lord Boles, And of your speeches set them by! If there be eleven Grimes all of a name, Then by my own honour they all should dye.' Then came down my good Lady Ward, Falling low upon her knee: 'Five hundred measures of gold I'le give, To grant Sir Hugh of the Grime to me.' 'Peace, peace, my good Lady Ward, None of your proffers shall him buy! For if there be twelve Grimes all of a name, By my own honour they all should dye.' Sir Hugh of the Grime's condemnd to dye, And of his friends he had no lack; Fourteen foot he leapt in his ward, His hands bound fast upon his back. Then he lookt over his left shoulder, To see whom he could see or spy; Then was he aware of his father dear, Came tearing his hair most pittifully. 'Peace, peace, my father dear, And of your speeches set them by! Though they have bereavd me of my life, They cannot bereave me of heaven so high.' He lookt over his right shoulder, To see whom he could see or spye; There was he aware of his mother dear, Came tearing her hair most pittifully. 'Pray have me remembred to Peggy, my wife; As she and I walkt over the moor, She was the cause of [the loss of] my life, And with the old bishop she plaid the whore. 'Here, Johnny Armstrong, take thou my sword, That is made of the mettle so fine, And when thou comst to the border-side, Remember the death of Sir Hugh of the Grime. | HUGHIE GRAME I nostri Lord sono andati sulle montagne A cacciare il daino Hanno arrestato Hughie Graeme, Per aver rubato la giumenta del vescovo. Lo hanno legato mani e piedi E riportato alla città di Carlisle (1); I ragazzi (e le ragazze) lungo il cammino, Urlavano, ‘Hughie Graeme, sarai impiccato’! “Liberate la mia mano destra-dice lui- e mettetemi lo spadone in mano; Non c’è nessuno a Carlisle questo giorno Che oserà raccontare favole a (2) Hughie Graeme.” Si alzò a parlare il buon Lord Whitefoord, E s’inginocchiò davanti al vescovo: “Darei cinquecento giovani buoi Se voi mi darete Sir Hugh Graeme.” V “Frenate la lingua, mio buon Lord Smettetela con questa supplica! Anche se ci fossero dieci Graeme in questa corte, Hugh Graeme morirà oggi.” Si alzò a parlare la bella Whitefoord E s’inginocchiò davanti al vescovo: “Darei cinquecento misure d’argento Se farete liberare Hugh Graeme.” “Frenate la lingua, mia bella Lady E smettetela con la lagna! Anche se ci fossero dodici Graeme in questa corte, E’ per il mio onore, che deve morire” Lo hanno portato alla collina della forca E messo sotto la forca Mai il colore lasciò le sue guance E nemmeno strizzò gli occhi Allora lui si guardò dietro alla spalla sinistra Per vedere cosa riusciva scorgere; Si accorse allora del suo amato padre Che piangeva, piangeva amaramente “Taci, mio amato padre, E smettila di piangere! Ciò mi addolora assai più (3) Di tutto quello che potrebbero farmi E tu darai a mio fratello John la mia spada che è fatta d’acciaio e pregalo di venire alle 12 in punto Per vedermi pagare la giumenta del Vescovo E tu darai a mio fratello James la mia spada che è fatta d’acciaio brunito e pregalo di venire alle 4 in punto Per vedere suo fratello Hugh penzolare” “Ricordami a Maggy mia moglie; La prossima volta che passerai per la brughiera, Dille che lei rubò la giumenta del Vescovo (4), dille che era lei la puttana del Vescovo. E dirai ai miei cari Che non ho mai disonorato il loro lignaggio E quando incontreranno il mantello del Vescovo Che lo accorcino dal cappuccio (5)” |
(2) credo che l’espressione equivalga al nostro “fare la festa” nel senso di uccidere
(3) vedere il padre in lacrime è per Ugo più doloroso della prospettiva di finire impiccato
(4) pesante insulto nei confronti del vescovo che in altre versioni non era così esplicito
(5)che gli taglino la testa!