Laurel · W. S. Gilbert · The Bab Ballads

The Troubadour

W. S. Gilbert (1836–1911) · 1869

iambic trimeter · ABAB · 87 lines · from The Bab Ballads

A TROUBADOUR he playedWithout a castle wall,Within, a hapless maidResponded to his call.

“Oh, willow, woe is me!Alack and well-a-day!If I were only freeI’d hie me far away!”

Unknown her face and name,But this he knew right well,The maiden’s wailing cameFrom out a dungeon cell.

A hapless woman layWithin that dungeon grim—That fact, I’ve heard him say,Was quite enough for him.

“I will not sit or lie,Or eat or drink, I vow,Till thou art free as I,Or I as pent as thou.”

Her tears then ceased to flow,Her wails no longer rang,And tuneful in her woeThe prisoned maiden sang:

“Oh, stranger, as you play,I recognize your touch;And all that I can sayIs, thank you very much.”

He seized his clarion straight,And blew thereat, untilA warden oped the gate.“Oh, what might be your will?”

“I’ve come, Sir Knave, to seeThe master of these halls:A maid unwillinglyLies prisoned in their walls.”’

With barely stifled sighThat porter drooped his head,With teardrops in his eye,“A many, sir,” he said.

He stayed to hear no more,But pushed that porter by,And shortly stood before

SIR HUGH he darkly frowned,“What would you, sir, with me?”The troubadour he downedUpon his bended knee.

“I’ve come, DE PECKHAM RYE,To do a Christian task;You ask me what would I?It is not much I ask.

“Release these maidens, sir,Whom you dominion o’er—Particularly herUpon the second floor.

“And if you don’t, my lord”—He here stood bolt upright,And tapped a tailor’s sword—“Come out, you cad, and fight!”

SIR HUGH he called—and ranThe warden from the gate:“Go, show this gentlemanThe maid in Forty-eight.”

By many a cell they past,And stopped at length beforeA portal, bolted fast:The man unlocked the door.

He called inside the gateWith coarse and brutal shout,“Come, step it, Forty-eight!”And Forty-eight stepped out.

“They gets it pretty hot,The maidens what we cotch—Two years this lady’s gotFor collaring a wotch.”

“Oh, ah!—indeed—I see,”The troubadour exclaimed—“If I may make so free,How is this castle named?”

The warden’s eyelids fill,And sighing, he replied,“Of gloomy PentonvilleThis is the female side!”

The minstrel did not waitThe Warden stout to thank,But recollected straightHe’d business at the Bank.

Words in this poem

hapless a.: Without hap or luck; luckless; unfortunate; unlucky; unhappy; as, hapless youth; hapless maid.
alack interj.: An exclamation expressive of sorrow. [Prob. from ah! lack! OE. lak loss, failure, misfortune. See Lack.]
dungeon n.: A close, dark prison, commondonjon or keep of a castle, these being used as prisons. [OE. donjoun highest tower of a castle, tower, prison, F. donjon tower or platform in the midst of a castle, turret, or closet on the top of a house, a keep of a]
pent p. p.: Penned or shut up; confined; -- often with up. [From Pen, v. t.]
tuneful a.: Harmonious; melodious; musical; as, tuneful notes.
thank n.: A expression of gratitude; an acknowledgment expressive of a sense of favor or kindness received; obligation, claim, or desert, or gratitude; -- now generally used in the plural. [AS. Þanc, Þonc, thanks, favor, thought; akin to OS. thank favor, pleasure, thanks, D. & G. dank thanks, Icel. Þ\'94kk, Dan. tak, Sw. tack, Goth. Þagks thanks; -]
clarion n.: A kind of trumpet, whose note is clear and shrill. [OE. clarioun, OF. clarion, F. clairon, LL. clario, claro; so called from its clear tone, fr. L. clarus clear. See Clear.]
thereat adv.: At that place; there.
knave n.: A boy; especially, a boy servant. Wyclif. [OE., boy, servant, knave, AS. cnafa boy, youth; cf. AS. cnapa boy, youth, D. kna, G. knabe boy, knappe esquire, Icel. knapi, Sw. knape esquire, knäfvel knave.]
stayed a.: Staid; fixed; settled; sober; -- now written staid. See Staid.
shortly adv.: In a short or brief time or manner; soon; quickly. [AS. sceortlice.]

Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.

About this text

The Troubadour is in the public domain. This text is taken from The Bab Ballads, Project Gutenberg ebook #931; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.

Cite as: W. S. Gilbert, The Troubadour, in The Bab Ballads (1869), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #931, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/gilbert-bab-ballads/the-troubadour.html, id L02369.

Form and metre

The Troubadour is 87 lines in 22 stanzas. The rhyme scheme is ABAB, complete in 19 of its 22 stanzas. The metre is iambic trimeter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 95%). 96% of its stressed syllables fall where the metre puts the beat. The lines average 6.2 syllables. 7 lines end on an unstressed syllable, a feminine ending. 25% of the lines run on without a stop at the line end.

See other poems in iambic trimeter.

Measured by Laurel's pipeline, not copied from a handbook: how stress and metre are counted, how rhyme is lettered, how a drifted rhyme is found. Where the dictionary cannot confirm a rhyme the letter is withheld, not guessed.

Rhyme words, stanza by stanza

The word that ends each line, lettered by the rhyme it makes; a dash is a line whose rhyme the dictionary could not confirm.

1 ABAB played^A · wall^B · maid^A · call^B
2 ABAB me^A · day^B · free^A · away^B
3 ABAB name^A · well^B · came^A · cell^B
4 ABAB lay^A · grim^B · say^A · him^B
5 ABAB lie^A · vow^B · i^A · thou^B
6 ABAB flow^A · rang^B · woe^A · sang^B
7 ABAB play^A · touch^B · say^A · much^B
8 ABAB straight^A · until^B · gate^A · will^B
9 -A-A see · halls^A · unwillingly · walls^A
10 ABAB sigh^A · head^B · eye^A · said^B
11 A-A more^A · by · before^A
12 ABAB frowned^A · me^B · downed^A · knee^B
13 ABAB rye^A · task^B · i^A · ask^B
14 A-A- sir^A · o'er · her^A · floor
15 ABAB lord^A · upright^B · sword^A · fight^B
16 ABAB ran^A · gate^B · gentleman^A · eight^B
17 ABAB past^A · before^B · fast^A · door^B
18 ABAB gate^A · shout^B · eight^A · out^B
19 ABAB hot^A · cotch^B · got^A · wotch^B
20 ABAB see^A · exclaimed^B · free^A · named^B
21 ABAB fill^A · replied^B · pentonville^A · side^B
22 ABAB wait^A · thank^B · straight^A · bank^B

Scansion, line by line

Each line with its syllable count and the stresses the words themselves fix: / stressed, ˘ unstressed, · a syllable the word leaves free and the metre decides. Read against iambic trimeter. How this is done.

Line	Syl.	Stress
A TROUBADOUR he played	6	·/˘···
Without a castle wall,	6	···/˘·
Within, a hapless maid	6	···/˘·
Responded to his call.	6	˘/˘···
“Oh, willow, woe is me!	6	·/····
Alack and well-a-day!	6	˘/····
If I were only free	6	···/˘·
I’d hie me far away!”	6	····˘/
Unknown her face and name,	6	˘/····
But this he knew right well,	6	······
The maiden’s wailing came	6	·/˘/˘·
From out a dungeon cell.	6	···/˘·
A hapless woman lay	6	·/˘/˘·
Within that dungeon grim—	6	···/˘·
That fact, I’ve heard him say,	6	······
Was quite enough for him.	6	··˘/··
“I will not sit or lie,	6	······
Or eat or drink, I vow,	6	······
Till thou art free as I,	6	······
Or I as pent as thou.”	6	······
Her tears then ceased to flow,	6	······
Her wails no longer rang,	6	···/˘·
And tuneful in her woe	6	·/˘···
The prisoned maiden sang:	6	·/˘/˘·
“Oh, stranger, as you play,	6	·/˘···
I recognize your touch;	6	·/˘···
And all that I can say	6	······
Is, thank you very much.”	6	···/˘·
He seized his clarion straight,	6	···/˘·
And blew thereat, until	6	··˘/··
A warden oped the gate.	6	·/˘···
“Oh, what might be your will?”	6	······
“I’ve come, Sir Knave, to see	6	······
The master of these halls:	6	·/˘···
A maid unwillingly	6	··˘/˘˘
Lies prisoned in their walls.”’	6	·/˘···
With barely stifled sigh	6	·/˘/˘·
That porter drooped his head,	6	·/˘···
With teardrops in his eye,	6	······
“A many, sir,” he said.	6	·/˘···
He stayed to hear no more,	6	······
But pushed that porter by,	6	···/˘·
And shortly stood before	6	·/˘···
SIR HUGH he darkly frowned,	6	···/˘·
“What would you, sir, with me?”	6	······
The troubadour he downed	6	·/˘···
Upon his bended knee.	6	···/˘·
“I’ve come, DE PECKHAM RYE,	6	···/˘·
To do a Christian task;	6	···/˘·
You ask me what would I?	6	······
It is not much I ask.	6	······
“Release these maidens, sir,	6	˘/·/˘·
Whom you dominion o’er—	6	··˘/˘·
Particularly her	6	˘/˘˘˘·
Upon the second floor.	6	···/˘·
“And if you don’t, my lord”—	6	······
He here stood bolt upright,	6	····˘/
And tapped a tailor’s sword—	6	···/˘·
“Come out, you cad, and fight!”	6	······
SIR HUGH he called—and ran	6	······
The warden from the gate:	6	·/˘···
“Go, show this gentleman	6	···/˘˘
The maid in Forty-eight.”	6	···/˘·
By many a cell they past,	6	·/····
And stopped at length before	6	······
A portal, bolted fast:	6	·/˘/˘·
The man unlocked the door.	6	··˘/··
He called inside the gate	6	··˘/··
With coarse and brutal shout,	6	···/˘·
“Come, step it, Forty-eight!”	6	···/˘·
And Forty-eight stepped out.	6	·/˘···
“They gets it pretty hot,	6	···/˘·
The maidens what we cotch—	6	·/˘···
Two years this lady’s got	6	···/˘·
For collaring a wotch.”	6	·/˘˘··
“Oh, ah!—indeed—I see,”	6	··˘/··
The troubadour exclaimed—	6	·/˘·˘/
“If I may make so free,	6	······
How is this castle named?”	6	···/˘·
The warden’s eyelids fill,	6	·/˘/··
And sighing, he replied,	6	·/˘·˘/
“Of gloomy Pentonville	7	·/˘····
This is the female side!”	6	···/··
The minstrel did not wait	6	·/˘···
The Warden stout to thank,	6	·/˘···
But recollected straight	6	··˘/˘·
He’d business at the Bank.	6	·/˘···

The reader shows the same poem with its rhymes coloured and a stress row above each line, the notes beside their stanzas, and any word's definition on a tap; the analysis page takes the whole book apart. How every part of this site was made.

More by W. S. Gilbert

The Bab Ballads