“O yes! O yes! O yes! ding dong!”
The bellman’s voice is loud and strong;
So is his bell: “O yes! ding dong!”
He wears a red coat with golden lace;
See how the people of the place
Come running to hear what the bellman says!
“O yes! Sir Nicholas Hildebrand
Has just returned from the Holy Land,
And freely offers his heart and hand—
O yes! O yes! O yes! ding dong!”—
All the women hurry along,
Maids and widows, a chattering throng.
“O sir, you are hard to understand!
To whom does he offer his heart and hand?
Explain your meaning, we do command!”
“O yes! ding dong! you shall understand!
O yes! Sir Nicholas Hildebrand
Invites the ladies of this land
To feast with him in his castle strong
This very day at three. Ding dong!
O yes! O yes! O yes! ding dong!”
Then all the women went off to dress,
Mary, Margaret, Bridget, Bess,
Patty, and more than I can guess.
They powdered their hair with golden dust,
And bought new ribbons—they said they must—
But none of them painted, we will trust.
Long before the time arrives,
All the women that could be wives
Are dressed within an inch of their lives.
Meanwhile, Sir Nicholas Hildebrand
Had brought with him from the Holy Land
A couple of bears—oh, that was grand!
He tamed the bears, and they loved him true,
Whatever he told them they would do—
Hark! ’tis the town clock striking two!
II
Among the maidens of low degree
The poorest of all was Cicely—
A shabbier girl could hardly be.
“O I should like to see the feast,
But my frock is old, my shoes are pieced,
My hair is rough!”—(it never was greased).
The clock struck three! She durst not go!
But she heard the band, and to see the show
Crept after the people that went in a row.
When Cicely came to the castle gate
The porter exclaimed, “Miss Shaggypate,
The hall is full, and you come too late!”
Just then the music made a din,
Flute, and cymbal, and culverin,
And Cicely, with a squeeze, got in!
Oh what a sight! full fifty score
Of dames that Cicely knew, and more,
Filling the hall from daïs to door!
The dresses were like a garden-bed,
Green and gold, and blue and red,—
Poor Cicely thought of her tossy head!
She heard the singing—she heard the clatter—
Clang of flagon, and clink of platter—
But, oh, the feast was no such matter!
For she saw Sir Nicholas himself,
Raised on a daïs just like a shelf,
And fell in love with him—shabby elf!
Her heart beat quick; aside she stept,
Under the tapestry she crept,
Touzling her tossy hair, and wept!
Her cheeks were wet, her eyes were red—
“Who makes that noise?” the ladies said;
“Turn out that girl with the shaggy head!”
III
Just then there was heard a double roar,
That shook the place, both wall and floor:
Everybody looked to the door.
It was a roar, it was a growl;
The ladies set up a little howl,
And flapped and clucked like frightened fowl.
Sir Hildebrand for silence begs—
In walk the bears on their hinder legs,
Wise as owls, and merry as grigs!
The dark girls tore their hair of sable;
The fair girls hid underneath the table;
Some fainted; to move they were not able.
But most of them could scream and screech—
Sir Nicholas Hildebrand made a speech—
“Order! ladies, I do beseech!”
The bears looked hard at Cicely
Because her hair hung wild and free—
“Related to us, miss, you must be!”
Then Cicely, filling two plates of gold
As full of cherries as they could hold,
Walked up to the bears, and spoke out bold:—
“Welcome to you! and to you, Mr. Bear!
Will you take a chair? will you take a chair?”
“This is an honour, we do declare!”
Sir Hildebrand strode up to see,
Saying, “Who may this maiden be?
Ladies, this is the wife for me!”
Almost before they could understand,
He took up Cicely by the hand,
And danced with her a saraband.
Her hair was as rough as a parlour broom,
It swung, it swirled all round the room—
Those ladies were vexed, we may presume.
Sir Nicholas kissed her on the face,
And set her beside him on the daïs,
And made her the lady of the place.
The nuptials soon they did prepare,
With a silver comb for Cicely’s hair:
There were bands of music everywhere.
And in that beautiful bridal show
Both the bears were seen to go
Upon their hind legs to and fro!
Now every year on the wedding-day
The boys and girls come out to play,
And scramble for cherries as they may,
With a cheer for this and the other bear,
And a cheer for Sir Nicholas, free and fair,
And a cheer for Cis of the tossy hair—
With one cheer more (if you will wait)
For every girl with a curly pate
Who keeps her hair in a proper state.
Sing bear’s grease! curling-irons to sell!
Sing combs and brushes! sing tortoise-shell!
O yes! ding dong! the crier, the bell!
—Isn’t this a pretty tale to tell?